Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
"Let's tie him to a post and go fishing in his boat ourselves," some
one suggested. Meanwhile two of them began rocking the cobble
violently from side to side. This was awful, and every moment I
expected the net and the sail which our friend had thrown down
unceremoniously upon us would roll off.
"Oh, stop that," said the Martian, who was no doubt quite as well aware
of the danger as we were. "The tide's full, the shoals are in the
bay--stop your nonsense, and help me launch like good fellows."
"Well, take two of us, then. We will sit on this heap of nets as quiet
as mice, and stand you a drink when we get back."
"No, not one of you," quoth the plucky fellow, "and here's my staff in
my hand, and if you don't leave my gear alone I will crack some of your
ugly heads."
"That's a pity," I thought to myself, "for if they take to fighting it
will be six to one--long odds against our chances." There was indeed a
scuffle, and then a yell of pain, as though a soldier had been hit
across the knuckles; but in a minute the best disposed called out, "Oh,
cease your fun, boys, and let the fellow get off if he wants to. You
know the fleet will be down directly, and Ar-hap has promised something
worth having to the man who can find that lost bit of crackling of his.
It's my opinion she's in the town, and I for one would rather look for
her than go haddock fishing any day."
"Right you are, mates," said our friend with visible relief. "And,
what's more, if you help me launch this boat and then go to my missus
and tell her what you've done, she'll understand, and give you the
biggest pumpkinful of beer in the place. Ah, she will understand, and
bless your soft hearts and heads while you drink it--she's a cute one
is my missus."
"And aren't you afraid to leave her with us?"
"Not I, my daisy, unless it were that a sight of your pretty face might
give her hysterics. Now lend a hand, your accursed chatter has already
cost me half an hour of the best fishing time."
"In with you, old buck!" shouted the soldiers; I felt the fisherman
step in, as a matter of fact he stepped in on to my toes; a dozen hands
were on the gunwales: six soldier yells resounded, it seemed, in my
very ears: there was the grit and rush of pebbles under the keel: a
sudden lurch up of the bows, which brought the fairy lady's
honey-scented lips to mine, and then the gentle lapping of deep blue
waters underneath us!
There is little more to be said of that voyage. We pulled until out of
sight of the town, then hoisted sail, and, with a fair wind, held upon
one tack until we made an island where there was a small colony of
Hither folk.
Here our friend turned back. I gave him another gold button from my
coat, and the princess a kiss upon either cheek, which he seemed to
like even more than the button. It was small payment, but the best we
had. Doubtless he got safely home, and I can but hope that Providence
somehow or other paid him and his wife for a good deed bravely done.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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