Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth CenturyDonnelly, Ignatius
Science
Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century
Donnelly, Ignatius
Dystopias -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Social problems -- Fiction; Twentieth century -- Fiction
It was the defenders of society advancing with the swinging step of
assured triumph.
Oh, it was a splendid sight! In all the bravery of banners, and
uniforms, and shining decorations, and amidst the majestic and
inspiriting outpouring of music, they swept along, the thousands
moving as one. How they did contrast with that gloomy, dark, ragged,
sullen multitude who had preceded them. And with them came, rattling
along, multitudes of those dreadful machine guns--those cataracts of
fire and death--drawn by prancing, well-fed, shining horses. And the
lips of the gunners were set for carnage; for they had received
orders _to take no prisoners!_ The world was to be taught a lesson
to-day--a bloody and an awful lesson. Ah! little did they think how
it would be taught!
In the gray light of the breaking day they came--an endless
multitude. And all the windows were white with waving handkerchiefs,
and the air stormy with huzzas and cries of "God bless you." And at
the head of every column, on exuberant steeds, that seemed as if they
would leap out of their very skins with the mere delight of living,
rode handsome officers, smiling and bowing to the ladies at the
windows;--for was it not simply holiday work to slay the
_canaille_--the insolent _canaille_--the unreasonable dogs--who
demanded some share in the world's delights--who were not willing to
toil and die that others might live and be happy? And the very music
had a revengeful, triumphant ring and sting to it, as if every
instrument cried out: "Ah, we will give it to them!"
But it was splendid! It was the very efflorescence of the art of
war--the culmination of the evolution of destruction--the perfect
flower of ten thousand years of battle and blood.
But I heard one officer cry out to another, as they passed below me:
"What's the matter with the Demons? Why are they not here?"
"I can't say," replied the one spoken to; "but they will be here in
good time."
The grand and mighty stream of men poured on. They halted close to
the high barricade. It was a formidable structure at least fifteen
feet high and many feet in thickness. The gray of dawn had turned
into red, and a pale, clear light spread over all nature. I heard
some sparrows, just awakened, twittering and conversing in a tall
tree near me. They, too, wondered, doubtless, what it all meant, and
talked it over in their own language.
The troops deployed right and left, and soon the insurgent mass was
closely surrounded in every direction and every outlet closed. The
"rat-trap" was set. Where were the rat-killers? I could see many a
neck craned, and many a face lifted up, looking toward the west, for
their terrible allies of the air. But they came not.
There was a dead pause. It was the stillness before the thunder.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE RAT-TRAP
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