But we could not expect that beauty and fertility would reign supreme
throughout an entire world, and there was a time when, looking down from
our lofty perch, we became aware that the trees had disappeared from our
range of vision, and that the grass was tussocky and stunted. The
change, to be sure, had been gradual, but with it had come the departure
of the human residence, and of all animals, neither was there any water.
It was clear enough that we were hovering upon the borders of a barren
land, perhaps, even a desert. We looked to our water supply, and
concluded there was enough to carry us over any ordinarily arid region,
especially at the rapid rate at which we were traveling, and so settled
ourselves down on deck to our cigars and fieldglasses.
* * * * *
We had been chatting along quite pleasantly, constantly scanning the
horizon, when we became aware that the air was perceptibly warmer, and
at the same time saw that even our scrubby patches of grass had been
entirely supplanted by the sand, which lay thick and red beneath, with a
peculiar luster. At long intervals there were rocks of the same color,
indistinguishable, except from their elevation, and in their crevices
grew a coarse, thorny plant, nearly as red as the rock itself. Dropping
earthward, we found these plants greasy and bad smelling.
At the same time we discovered that the ground was unpleasantly warm,
and that the sand crawled, covering our footsteps as soon as made. We
wanted to take some samples of this cactus-like leaf, but feared it
might be poisonous and so let it alone. Gradually even this loathsome
weed disappeared, and only the sand remained. It was clear that we had
entered upon a desert, where nothing grew, and where nothing lived.
True, there was no sun, but notwithstanding this, the air was hot and
sultry. We were unable to account for this change in the temperature,
and the heavy incinerated atmosphere, but the rapidity of our flight
created a draught, which kept us fairly comfortable.
The smoke from our cigars trailed rapidly astern, and then sank to the
ground in a condensed form as if weight laden. We watched it with
interest, puzzling over the cause, which Torrence thought might be some
peculiar quality in the air, coupled to the strong draught of the
vessel. Dropping to a lower level, and going astern, we were amazed to
see a pale-blue, thread-like line marking our course in a path over the
ground. It seemed incredible, but it was nothing more or less than a
smoke path, formed and fed by our cigars. Not a breath of air disturbed
its rectilinearity. It was a phenomenon neither of us could understand.
We stood watching this for a long time, observing how the smoke, as we
blew it from our mouths, would sweep earthward with the draught of the
vessel, and then immediately be drawn out into the thin, blue,
concentrated line described.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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