Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
Even to this moment I can recall the blue shine of those terrible ice
crags framing the weird picture in on every hand, and the strange
effect upon my mind as we passed out of the darkness of the gully down
which we had come into the sepulchral radiance of that place. But
though it fixed with one instantaneous flash its impression on my mind
forever, there was no time to admire it. As we swept on to the lake's
surface, and a glance of light coming over a dip in the ice walls to
the left lit up the dead faces and half-withered flowers of my
fellow-travellers with startling distinctness, I noticed with a new
terror at the lower end of the lake towards which we were hurrying the
water suddenly disappeared in a cloud of frosty spray, and it was from
thence came the low, ominous rumble which had sounded up the ravine as
we approached. It was the fall, and beyond the stream dropped down
glassy step after step, in wild pools and rapids, through which no boat
could live for a moment, to a black cavern entrance, where it was
swallowed up in eternal night.
I WOULD not go that way! With a yell such as those solitudes had
probably never heard since the planet was fashioned out of the void, I
seized the paddle again and struck out furiously from the main current,
with the result of postponing the crisis for a time, and finding myself
bobbing round towards the northern amphitheatre, where the light fell
clearest from planets overhead. It was like a great ballroom with
those constellations for tapers, and a ghastly crowd of Martians were
doing cotillions and waltzes all about me on their rafts as the
troubled water, icy cold and clear as glass, eddied us here and there
in solemn confusion. On the narrow beaches at the cliff foot were
hundreds of wrecked voyagers--the wall-flowers of that ghostly
assembly-room--and I went jostling and twirling round the circle as
though looking for a likely partner, until my brain spun and my heart
was sick.
For twenty minutes Fate played with me, and then the deadly suck of the
stream got me down again close to where the water began to race for the
falls. I vowed savagely I would not go over them if it could be
helped, and struggled furiously.
On the left, in shadow, a narrow beach seemed to lie between the water
and the cliff foot; towards it I fought. At the very first stroke I
fouled a raft; the occupant thereof came tumbling aboard and nearly
swamped me. But now it was a fight for life, so him I seized without
ceremony by clammy neck and leg and threw back into the water. Then
another playful Martian butted the behind part of my canoe and set it
spinning, so that all the stars seemed to be dancing giddily in the
sky. With a yell I shoved him off, but only to find his comrades were
closing round me in a solid ring as we sucked down to the abyss at
ever-increasing speed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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