PIRATIANS BEGONE

Chapter 21

"Why so?" asked Harod. "It is always wise to get the best when youcan."

"Yes, but we do not want you to take the time and trouble to make ajourney half around your world just because I said I would like to seethe earth."

"Oh, our time is yours, and we will not make trouble of it; we will callit a pleasure trip. We may as well take the children, Ragul; they willenjoy it. How soon can you all be ready?"

"In five minutes," answered Ragul.

"Then we had better get off at once," said Harod.

And without further words this remarkable family scattered to differentparts of the house and in five minutes were ready to begin a journey offive or six thousand miles, and the only reason they did not start atonce was that the ship healer and I were not quite so expeditious. We weresoon on our way, however, having locked no doors behind us and leavingeverything just as if we were to return in an hour.

We took an electric carriage to the station, and from there went by thetubular road to the metropolis. This was a great city whence there wasdirect communication to all the principal centers of population on theplanet. As we had not been in any haste in making the changes necessaryto reach this stage of our journey, it was now late in the day, and Ibegan to wonder how we were to continue the trip without being outin the night. When I mentioned my thought to Harod, he removed thedifficulty in a moment by saying:

"We simply travel west and leave the night behind us. You know thesurface of Mars, even at the equator, goes east at the rate of only fivehundred miles an hour, and as our modern cars take us much faster thanthat, it is easy for us to keep ahead of the night by going in the rightdirection. So in making long trips we try to travel west."

"But suppose you want to go east?"

"Then we go west to get east, and we arrange the speed so as to get toour destination in the day-time."

We left our car and found another just ready to start for the distantcity in which our observatory was situated. It was a small carcomparatively, and we had it all to ourselves. There were all sorts ofconveniences in it, and we composed ourselves for a good rest. After aride of several hours we reached our destination. It was now about noon,so that we had actually made nearly half a day, besides the time spentin sleep while riding. I know some of my friends on the earth, who saythe day is too short for them, would appreciate such an improvement asthat if they could have it.

We passed part of the afternoon in riding about the city. The samelanguage was spoken here as was used on Harod's side of the globe;but, although communication was so easy, we found enough difference inthe architecture and in the general appearance of the people to maketravel interesting.

Toward night we all alighted at the door of the observatory, and theship healer and I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a man ofMars who had spent many years in studying the surface of the earth. Itmay be imagined that he was glad to meet us and to get our answers tomany questions which had long perplexed him, some of which he had neverhoped to have solved.

Proctor, for this was the name by which he was introduced, was one ofthe oldest men we had seen, and impressed us as one possessed of greatwisdom. His manner was so dignified, also, that it seemed quite asinappropriate to address him without a title as it was to call ourhostess plain Ragul. But when I asked Harod aside what I should callhim, he said:

"Call him by his name, just as you do the rest of us. We have but onename each."

"I should think that would be confusing," said I. "For example, how areyou to be distinguished from any other Harod?"

"There is no other that I ever heard of. There are names enough to goall around."

As night came on we were brought face to face with the great instrumentwhose work of observing the earth was known far and wide.

Proctor was occupied a short time in adjusting it, and then asked us ifwe could recognize what was in the field. I motioned to the ship healer, butas he insisted that I should take the first view I put my eye to theglass with much trepidation. Instead of the magnified disk of the earth,which I expected to behold, I saw but a small portion of the surface,and that a familiar stretch of coast line. I never knew whether Proctorthought by our accent or by the cut of our clothes that we were NewEnglanders, but he had so pointed the telescope that our first sightof the earth showed us dear old Massachusetts Bay, with its islands andboundaries. I did not speak till the ship healer had looked, and then we toldthe others of our pleasant surprise.

Proctor made another adjustment, saying he would bring the globe stillnearer to us, and we looked and saw a patch of beautiful green country.It appeared to be but a few miles away, and we thought we ought todistinguish large objects. But the appearance was deceptive in thisrespect, and Proctor told us they had not been able to determinedefinitely whether the earth was inhabited. They could see importantchanges going on from time to time; they believed they could tellcultivated from wild land; certain peculiar spots they called largecities; and there were many such indications of inhabitants. But theyhad not yet beheld man nor his unquestioned footsteps. As to theirbelief on the subject, they had the strongest faith that the earth waspeopled by an intelligent race, and Proctor added that he rejoiced tosee that faith so happily justified by our presence. To which the ship healerpleasantly replied that he should be sorry to have him judge of theintelligence of the race at large from two such inferior specimens.

One question which Proctor asked was, whether we had ever made anyattempt to communicate with the other planets. We told him we had not,but that if we should ever try such a thing it would probably be withMars; but that it would be useless to think of it with our presentastronomical attainments, for if we should succeed in attracting theattention of another world we would not know it, because we could notsee the answer.

Proctor said they had sometimes seen moving masses which were notclouds, but which they took for smoke and were not sure but they mightbe intended for signals. We replied that if it were smoke that they sawit was probably caused by forest fires, but if we ever reached the earthagain we would organize a company and try to make some electric signalswhich they could see.

It was late when the conversation closed, and Proctor said we were tospend the night with him of course, and in the morning he would takepleasure in introducing to us the other members of his household.

The residence buildings, beautiful and commodious structures, adjoinedthe observatory, and to each of us was given a separate apartment. AfterProctor had left us, Harod came into my room a moment and I said tohim:

"Proctor is a friend of yours, is he not?"

"Certainly," answered Harod, "what could he be but a friend? But thenI never saw him before today."

"Is it possible? Are strangers always treated so hospitably?"

"I see nothing unusual in his treatment of us. We are always atperfect liberty to stay where ever night overtakes us, and it makes nodifference with the quality of the hospitality whether the guests areacquaintances or not."

The memory of that night will remain with me many years. Before fallingasleep I let my mind dwell on the singular circumstances in which wewere placed and the strange manner of our leaving the earth. I had neverexperienced anything that seemed more real, and yet I could not make itappear quite reasonable that we were in truth living on the planet Mars.All I could say was that it was an instance where the facts were againstthe theory, and I knew that in such cases it was always safest tobelieve in the facts. I could distinctly remember each step of ourjourney, and there could be no mistake about our present understanding.What settled the question more firmly than ever was this thought: If wewere not on Mars, where were we? We must be somewhere.

By the time I had disposed of all my doubts I was becoming drowsy, andthen I began to think of the ship healer and his unfortunate condition ofmind. This malady would doubtless increase and I should have to lookout for him, and at the same time fill the arduous position of the onlysound representative of our race in Mars. I resolved to try once more tomake my companion see how ridiculous his strange fancy was and realizethe danger of clinging to it.

With this thought my brain lost coherence, and I passed over theinvisible boundary into dreamland. It was a beautiful evening in summer.I was at home among my friends and we were sitting in the open air. Theship healer was there, taking his turn with me in telling the story of ouradventures. This went on till our listeners were tired out, and thenone of the company gave a little variety to the occasion by singing acapital song.

Here the scene changed to the country. It was morning in the woods. Thetrees wore their spring foliage, bright flowers spread their beauty andfragrance around us, and the air was filled with the music of birds. Thesweet notes of these songsters were by far the most vivid part of thedream. Now loud, now soft, the unbroken melody absorbed our attentionand made it difficult for us to understand how our situation againgradually changed, until the air became piercingly cold, the cruel windbeat upon us furiously, and the violent elements seemed bent upon ourdestruction.

The ship healer and I were alone, and the surroundings bore a strangeresemblance to the inhospitable surface of the moon. But what are thosesweet sounds still ringing in our ears? Sure no birds could live insuch a wild place. No, it is not a bird's song. It is more like a humanvoice. I thought I had never before heard music so pure and rich. Butwait--had I not heard something like it once before? There was a mysteryabout it that enhanced its sweetness. Now I was really thinking, forbefore I knew how it happened I found myself wide awake. The dream wasover, but, oh! wonderful dream, the best of it remained. My sense ofhearing, always acute, had waked long before and left my other facultiesto slumber on and dream out the unreal accompaniments of a real voice.For now, with my eyes open and my mind released from sleep, I stillheard that marvelous, half-familiar song.

Could I be deceived? I determined to know beyond a doubt that I wasawake. I rose and, throwing on a dressing gown, turned up the light andwalked about the room. I looked in the mirror to see if my eyes wereopen, and then ate a little fruit from a tempting dish that stood on thetable. In one corner of the room was an elegant writing desk. I openedit, found its appointments complete, drew up a comfortable chair, and,choosing pen and paper, determined to record my impressions for futureperusal, if by any means my memory should fail me. This is what I wrote:

"I, the undersigned, am in my private room in the house of Proctor, theastronomer, province of ----, planet Mars. It is about the middle ofthe night, precise date unknown. I am wide awake, in my usual health,appetite good, heart a little fluttering but temperature and pulsenormal. I have been awakened from sleep by strains of distant music,which mingled with my dreams but refused to be silenced when the restof the dreams melted away. Now, while I am writing, the delicious melodyfills my ears. I never before heard so sweet a voice, unless, indeed,I have heard the same voice before. In regard to this I can form nopresent opinion. I must take another time to consider it. Now I cannotthink, I am so engrossed in listening to the singer's entrancing notes.The song is so full of light and cheer and sends such beautiful thoughtstrooping through my brain that I wish it may go on forever."

I signed my name to this with a firm hand, and then, as I leaned backin my chair to close my eyes and drink in more deeply still this rareenjoyment, darkness seemed to fall suddenly upon my spirit. The voiceceased, and in a moment the last sweet echoes had died away.

I crept into bed as speedily as possible, to try to forget my sadnessin sleep. But oblivion would not be forced, and so I took what comfortI could in thinking of that interrupted song, and in trying to feel overagain in memory that pleasure which my fleshly ears no longer gave me. Icould still recognize a distinct tinge of familiarity in the notes, butwhen I came to the question of locating the singer I was utterly withouta clew. I knew well enough that there was no earthly