Through Space to Mars, Roy Rockwood [e book reader pdf txt] 📗
- Author: Roy Rockwood
- Performer: -
Book online «Through Space to Mars, Roy Rockwood [e book reader pdf txt] 📗». Author Roy Rockwood
comprehend.
“I can speak several languages,” remarked Amos Henderson. “Let
me tackle him.”
Accordingly, the professor spoke in several languages, including
the Esquimau, which he had picked up on his journey north, and in
the language used by the inhabitants in the center of the earth.
But to all these the leader only shook his head.
“Suppose we try Latin?” suggested Mark, who was a proficient
pupil in that language. “Latin is a very old language. Maybe he
understands that.”
“Go ahead,” said Jack.
Mark accordingly began to recite part of the first book of
Caesar, beginning: “All Gaul is divided into three parts,” which
every, schoolboy knows. But this was no better.
“Let me try a bit of Greek on him,” said Mr. Roumann. “I used to
be a pretty good Greek scholar.”’
But Greek appeared to be an unknown tongue to Mars. The leader,
however, seeing that the strangers had arrived at the end of
their resources, called to some persons in the crowd, and these,
coming forward, addressed the world-dwellers in different
dialects. But they were no more understandable than had been the
first speech of the man with the glittering triangle.
“Guess we’ll have to resort to first principles, and draw
pictures for them,” said Mark.
Just then Jack uttered an exclamation, and pointed to the head of
the leader.
“What’s he doing? Making faces at you?” asked Mark.
“No; but look at that triangle!” exclaimed Jack. “It’s a
right-angled one.”
“Well, what of it?”
“This: If they understand triangles, they must know something
about mathematics and geometry. Suppose we draw for them that
problem in geometry which states that the sums of the squares
constructed on the base and altitude of a right-angled triangle
is equal to the square constructed on the hypotenuse? If he
knows that, maybe we can get to some understanding with him.”
“Go ahead and try,” assented Mr. Henderson.
Jack accordingly took up a stick, and drew in the sand the
geometrical problem of which he had spoken. It is one of the
simplest. No sooner had he done so than the Martians set up a
cry.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jack. “I hope I haven’t made them
mad.”
“No; they appear to be delighted,” said Mr. Roumann. And sure
enough, the Martians showed evidences of pleasure. They pointed
to the triangle on the head of their leader, and then to the one
Jack had drawn.
Then, from somewhere in the rear of the crowd, there came another
man. He was slightly larger than his companions, but that was
not saying much, for, aside from their great heads, the Martians
were all little people, not much more than up to Andy’s shoulder,
and Andy was not much over five feet in height.
But it was not the size of the newcomer that attracted the
attention of the travelers so much as it was the device he had in
the golden circle on his head. For this device was exactly the
same as the one Jack had drawn in the sand to illustrate the
problem. It was a triangle, with squares drawn out from the
three sides. He looked at the drawing in the sand, and made a
low bow to the newcomers.
“Well, that appears to have taken their fancy,” said Mark. “I
can’t understand it.”
“I can,” spoke the professor quickly. “The Martians are a very
learned people. That’s why their heads are so large and their
bodies so small. They make a special study of the sciences, and
geometry and mathematics probably are their favorites. That is
why they understand Jack’s problem. Science is the same
throughout the universe, though conditions may differ on
different planets. I think we have arrived at a means of
communicating with the Martians, at least until we have learned
their language.”
The Martian with the triangle and squares on his circlet of gold
appeared to be a grade higher in authority than the one with the
simple triangle. He now addressed the travelers, but they could
not understand him.
Seeing this, he stooped and drew in the sand another geometrical
problem, leaving it half completed.
“You finish it, Mark,” said Jack, and the boy did so, much to the
delight of the crowd.
“They all are well up in geometry,” declared Mr. Roumann.
“But I’d like to understand what force it was that made us move?”
spoke Jack.
“I’ll see if I can find out,” said Mr. Henderson, and he made
motions to indicate that they would like to know what power it
was that moved them away from the projectile.
A smile came to the face of the leading Martian. He pointed to
his big head, and then to the travelers. Then he fixed his great
eyes on them.
Instantly they felt themselves being moved backward to the
projectile. They went a few feet, then were moved forward toward
the crowd again. Then they found themselves stationary.
“It’s thought force!” cried Jack. “That’s what it is. They
simply will for a thing to be done, and it is done—at least with
persons from another planet. They have the power to make us move
by merely wishing it.”
“Then they ought to be able to read our thoughts,” spoke Mark.
“Maybe their power extends only to motion,” suggested Mr.
Henderson.
The chief leader spoke again, and it was evident that he was
asking if the explanation and demonstration he had given was
satisfactory. The professor nodded his head to indicate that it
was.
The leader addressed the throng of people, and they turned and
started away. The leader remained, and turning to the adventurers
he pointed off toward a distant city, and indicated that they were
to go there.
“And leave our projectile behind!” exclaimed Jack. “We don’t
want to do that.”
This did not meet with the approval of the others. They were in
a strange land, and the Annihilator might be the means of saving
their lives. If they left it there was no telling whether or not
they would ever see it again.
As well as he could Mr. Henderson made motions that they did not
like to leave their craft behind. But the Martian, with a frank
smile, seemed to say that it would be safe.
“Guess we can’t help ourselves,” remarked Mr. Roumann. “If we
don’t go they’ll make us. Better go willingly. Besides, I want
to see their city.”
“But what about our prisoner—the crazy machinist?” asked Jack.
“Oh, I guess he will be all right. He had a good meal just
before we landed, and he was asleep. We’ll go with these queer
people, and come back tonight to the projectile,” said Mr.
Roumann. “Come on.”
They started to follow the leader, who beckoned them forward. He
went off at a rapid pace, and the travelers found themselves
being urged on just as speedily by that mysterious thought force.
“This is a great way of traveling,” observed Jack.
“It suah does beat walkin’,” commented Washington White, who,
after his first fright, appeared to take it all as a matter of
course. “But I hopes dat dey’s got suffin’ t’ placate mah inner
conscientiousness wid, ‘case I’se gittin’ mighty hungry.”
“Oh, I guess these people have to eat, even if they are mostly
brains,” suggested Jack. “Anyhow, we’ve got plenty in the
projectile.”
“If dat air crazy man don’t git loose an’ cat it all up,” added
Washington. “I shorely hopes dat he doesn’t hurt mah Shanghai
rooster.”
“Never mind about him. Look what a wonderful country we’re in,”
said Mark.
And indeed they were in a strange land.
THE RED LIGHT
At first glance Mars had not seemed to be much different from the
earth they had left, but when the travelers had gotten over their
first astonishment at seeing the strange people, they saw that
there were many points of dissimilarity.
In the first place, there appeared to be a great deal of water
about them. There were canals or broad rivers on every side,
with only narrow strips of land dividing them. The Annihilator
had landed on a broad, sandy plain, one of the largest on the
planet, as it afterward developed, and so gentle had been the
descent, that the projectile was not injured in the least. But
leaving that vicinity, and following their guide, the travelers
found themselves in the midst of a network of waterways.
“These must be some of the canals the astronomers see,” observed
Jack.
“Yes,” assented Mark. “There isn’t much land to spare. I should
think the Martians would be a sort of water race. But they don’t
appear to have any boats.”
“Yes, they do,” put in Mr. Roumann. “Here comes one now.”
Sure enough, there suddenly appeared on a broad river or canal,
along which they were being moved by that mysterious force, a
large open boat, in which were several Martians.
“Well, I wonder how that moves?” said Jack. “They’re not rowing,
they have no sail, and I can’t see any engine.”
“Maybe thought power moves the boat, too,” suggested Mark.
“It certainly seems so,” rejoined Mr. Henderson.
The travelers found themselves stopping, and their leader,
turning, said something to the persons in the boat. There was a
brief conversation in the strange language, and the adventurers
found themselves moving into the craft, which stopped close to
the bank of the canal. When they were seated the boat started
off again, and though Jack and Mark, as well as the two men,
looked closely to ascertain what was the motive power, they could
not discover it.
“Unless it’s in that small box,” said Jack, pointing to one made
of some shining metal, in the stern of the boat.
“Perhaps it is,” assented Mr. Roumann. Then he made some
motions to the guide, asking whether or not the substance in the
box contained the motive power.
The man with the squared triangle on his head seemed to hesitate
a moment, and then, with a motion to the Martian in charge of the
boat, he said something, and the latter opened the box. Mr.
Roumann looked eagerly into it, as did the others, and the
German uttered a cry of surprise.
And well he might, for all the box contained was a lump of what
seemed to be red clay. There were no wheels, no machinery of any
kind, and there appeared to be no propeller on the boat with
which the box was connected. Nevertheless, the craft continued
to move along swiftly, and the Martian had indicated that the
object in the box made it go.
“The red substance!” exclaimed Mr. Roumann in a low voice. “I
wonder if this can be what I seek?”
Once more he looked at the crimson mass in the metal box. He
reached forward his finger as if to touch it, but the chief
Martian, with a warning cry, suddenly dosed down the lid.
“Humph! I guess they’re afraid we’ll steal it,” exclaimed Jack.
“Maybe it’s dangerous to touch,” added Mark.
The Martians conversed among themselves in low voices, and from
the glances they cast at the travelers every now and then, from
their great, protruding eyes, it was evident that the little men
were discussing the strangers.
“Has yo’ folks any adequate perceptionability ob de exteriorness
in de inverse ratio ob de objectiveness ob de transportation
projection ob our destination?” asked Washington White, breaking
a rather lengthy silence.
“Do you mean where are we going?” inquired jack.
“Dat’s what
Comments (0)