Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
How long after I know not, but presently a tissue of daylight crept
into my eyes, and I awoke again. It was better than nothing perhaps,
yet it was a poor awakening. The big sun lay low down, and the day was
all but done; so much I guessed as I rocked in that light with an
undulating movement, and then as my senses returned more fully,
recognised with a start of wonder that I was still in the water,
floating on a swift current into the unknown on an air-filled pile of
silken stuffs which had been pulled down with me from the boat when I
got my ganging from yonder rascal's mace. It was a wet couch, sodden
and chilly, but as the freshening evening wind blew on my face and the
darkening water lapped against my forehead I revived more fully.
Where had we come to? I turned an aching neck, and all along on both
sides seemed to stretch steep, straight coasts about a mile or so
apart, in the shadow of the setting sun black as ebony. Between the
two the hampered water ran quickly, with, away on the right, some
shallow sandy spits and islands covered with dwarf bushes--chilly,
inhospitable-looking places they seemed as I turned my eyes upon them;
but he who rides helpless down an evening tide stands out for no great
niceties of landing-place; could I but reach them they would make at
least a drier bed than this of mine, and at that thought, turning over,
I found all my muscles as stiff as iron, the sinews of my neck and
forearms a mass of agonies and no more fit to swim me to those reedy
swamps, which now, as pain and hunger began to tell, seemed to wear the
aspects of paradise.
With a groan I dropped back upon my raft and watched the islands
slipping by, while over my feet the southern sky darkened to purple.
There was no help there, but glancing round away on the left and a few
furlongs from me, I noticed on the surface of the water two converging
strands of brightness, an angle the point of which seemed to be coming
towards me. Nearer it came and nearer, right across my road, until I
could see a black dot at the point, a head presently developed, then as
we approached the ears and antlers of a swimming stag. It was a huge
beast as it loomed up against the glow, bigger than any mortal stag
ever was--the kind of fellow-traveller no one would willingly accost,
but even if I had wished to get out of its path I had no power to do so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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