Across the Zodiac: The Story of a Wrecked RecordGreg, Percy
Science
Across the Zodiac: The Story of a Wrecked Record
Greg, Percy
Science fiction
Presently, as we followed the course of the stream, we lost sight
altogether of the rapidly dwindling patches of colour representing the
enclosures of Ecasfe. On our left, at a distance varying from three to
five miles, but constantly increasing as the stream bent to the
northward, was the mountain range I had scanned in my descent. On our
right the plain dipped below the horizon while still but a few feet
above the level of the river; but in the distant sky we discerned some
objects like white clouds, which from their immobility and fixedness
of outline I soon discovered to be snow-crowned hills, lower, however,
than those to the northward, and perhaps some forty miles distant. The
valley is one of the richest and most fertile portions of this
continent, and was consequently thoroughly cultivated and more densely
peopled than most parts even of the Equatorial zone. An immediate
river frontage being as convenient as agreeable, the enclosures on
either bank were continuous, and narrow in proportion to their depth;
the largest occupying no more than from one hundred and fifty to two
hundred yards of the bank, the smaller from half to one quarter of
that length. Most had a tunnel pierced under the road bordering the
river, through which the water was admitted to their grounds and
carried in a minute stream around and even through the house; for
ornament rather than for use, since every house in a district so
populous has a regular artificial water supply, and irrigation, as I
have explained, is not required. The river itself was embellished with
masses of water-flowers; and water-birds, the smallest scarcely larger
than a wagtail, the largest somewhat exceeding the size of a swan, of
a different form and dark grey plumage, but hardly less graceful,
seemed to be aware of the stringent protection they enjoyed from the
law. They came up to our boat and fed out of Eveena's hand with
perfect fearlessness. I could not induce any of them to be equally
familiar with myself, my size probably surprising them as much as
their masters, and leading them to the same doubt whether I were
really and wholly human. The lower slopes of the hills were covered
with orchards of every kind, each species occupying the level best
suited to it, from the reed-supported orange-like _alva_ of the
lowlands to the tall _astyra_, above which stretched the timber
forests extending as high as trees could grow, while between these and
the permanent snow-line lay the yellowish herbage of extensive
pastures. A similar mountain range on earth would have presented a
greater variety of colouring and scenery, the total absence of
glaciers, even in the highest valleys, creating a notable difference.
The truth is that the snows of Mars are nowhere deep, and melt in the
summer to such an extent that that constant increase whose downward
tendency feeds Terrestrial glaciers cannot take place. Probably the
thin atmosphere above the snow-line can hold but little watery vapour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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