How long that wild rush lasted I have
no means of judging. It may have been an hour,
a day, or many days, for I was throughout in a state
of suspended animation, but presently my senses began
to return and with them a sensation of lessening speed,
a grateful relief to a heavy pressure which had held
my life crushed in its grasp, without destroying it
completely. It was just that sort of sensation
though more keen which, drowsy in his bunk, a traveller
feels when he is aware, without special perception,
harbour is reached and a voyage comes to an end.
But in my case the slowing down was for a long time
comparative. Yet the sensation served to revive
my scattered senses, and just as I was awakening to
a lively sense of amazement, an incredible doubt of
my own emotions, and an eager desire to know what
had happened, my strange conveyance oscillated once
or twice, undulated lightly up and down, like a woodpecker
flying from tree to tree, and then grounded, bows
first, rolled over several times, then steadied again,
and, coming at last to rest, the next minute the infernal
rug opened, quivering along all its borders in its
peculiar way, and humping up in the middle shot me
five feet into the air like a cat tossed from a schoolboy’s
blanket.
As I turned over I had a dim vision
of a clear light like the shine of dawn, and solid
ground sloping away below me. Upon that slope
was ranged a crowd of squatting people, and a staid-looking
individual with his back turned stood nearer by.
Afterwards I found he was lecturing all those sitters
on the ethics of gravity and the inherent properties
of falling bodies; at the moment I only knew he was
directly in my line as I descended, and him round
the waist I seized, giddy with the light and fresh
air, waltzed him down the slope with the force of my
impetus, and, tripping at the bottom, rolled over
and over recklessly with him sheer into the arms of
the gaping crowd below. Over and over we went
into the thickest mass of bodies, making a way through
the people, until at last we came to a stop in a perfect
mound of writhing forms and waving legs and arms.
When we had done the mass disentangled itself and
I was able to raise my head from the shoulder of someone
on whom I had fallen, lifting him, or her which
was it? into a sitting posture alongside
of me at the same time, while the others rose about
us like wheat-stalks after a storm, and edged shyly
off, as well as they might.
Such a sleek, slim youth it was who
sat up facing me, with a flush of gentle surprise
on his face, and dapper hands that felt cautiously
about his anatomy for injured places. He looked
so quaintly rueful yet withal so good-tempered that
I could not help bursting into laughter in spite of
my own amazement. Then he laughed too, a sedate,
musical chuckle, and said something incomprehensible,
pointing at the same time to a cut upon my finger
that was bleeding a little. I shook my head,
meaning thereby that it was nothing, but the stranger
with graceful solicitude took my hand, and, after
examining the hurt, deliberately tore a strip of cloth
from a bright yellow toga-like garment he was wearing
and bound the place up with a woman’s tenderness.
Meanwhile, as he ministered, there
was time to look about me. Where was I?
It was not the Broadway; it was not Staten Island
on a Saturday afternoon. The night was just
over, and the sun on the point of rising. Yet
it was still shadowy all about, the air being marvellously
tepid and pleasant to the senses. Quaint, soft
aromas like the breath of a new world the
fragrance of unknown flowers, and the dewy scent of
never-trodden fields drifted to my nostrils; and to
my ears came a sound of laughter scarcely more human
than the murmur of the wind in the trees, and a pretty
undulating whisper as though a great concourse of
people were talking softly in their sleep. I
gazed about scarcely knowing how much of my senses
or surroundings were real and how much fanciful, until
I presently became aware the rosy twilight was broadening
into day, and under the increasing shine a strange
scene was fashioning itself.
At first it was an opal sea I looked
on of mist, shot along its upper surface with the
rosy gold and pinks of dawn. Then, as that soft,
translucent lake ebbed, jutting hills came through
it, black and crimson, and as they seemed to mount
into the air other lower hills showed through the
veil with rounded forest knobs till at last the brightening
day dispelled the mist, and as the rosy-coloured gauzy
fragments went slowly floating away a wonderfully fair
country lay at my feet, with a broad sea glimmering
in many arms and bays in the distance beyond.
It was all dim and unreal at first, the mountains
shadowy, the ocean unreal, the flowery fields between
it and me vacant and shadowy.
Yet were they vacant? As my
eyes cleared and day brightened still more, and I
turned my head this way and that, it presently dawned
upon me all the meadow coppices and terraces northwards
of where I lay, all that blue and spacious ground
I had thought to be bare and vacant, were alive with
a teeming city of booths and tents; now I came to look
more closely there was a whole town upon the slope,
built as might be in a night of boughs and branches
still unwithered, the streets and ways of that city
in the shadows thronged with expectant people moving
in groups and shifting to and fro in lively streams chatting
at the stalls and clustering round the tent doors
in soft, gauzy, parti-coloured crowds in a way both
fascinating and perplexing.
I stared about me like a child at
its first pantomime, dimly understanding all I saw
was novel, but more allured to the colour and life
of the picture than concerned with its exact meaning;
and while I stared and turned my finger was bandaged,
and my new friend had been lisping away to me without
getting anything in turn but a shake of the head.
This made him thoughtful, and thereon followed a curious
incident which I cannot explain. I doubt even
whether you will believe it; but what am I to do in
that case? You have already accepted the episode
of my coming, or you would have shut the covers before
arriving at this page of my modest narrative, and
this emboldens me. I may strengthen my claim
on your credulity by pointing out the extraordinary
marvels which science is teaching you even on our
own little world. To quote a single instance:
If any one had declared ten years ago that it would
shortly be practicable and easy for two persons to
converse from shore to shore across the Atlantic without
any intervening medium, he would have been laughed
at as a possibly amusing but certainly extravagant
romancer. Yet that picturesque lie of yesterday
is amongst the accomplished facts of today!
Therefore I am encouraged to ask your indulgence,
in the name of your previous errors, for the following
and any other instances in which I may appear to trifle
with strict veracity. There is no such thing
as the impossible in our universe!
When my friendly companion found I
could not understand him, he looked serious for a
minute or two, then shortened his brilliant yellow
toga, as though he had arrived at some resolve, and
knelt down directly in front of me. He next
took my face between his hands, and putting his nose
within an inch of mine, stared into my eyes with all
his might. At first I was inclined to laugh,
but before long the most curious sensations took hold
of me. They commenced with a thrill which passed
all up my body, and next all feeling save the consciousness
of the loud beating of my heart ceased. Then
it seemed that boy’s eyes were inside my head
and not outside, while along with them an intangible
something pervaded my brain. The sensation at
first was like the application of ether to the skin a
cool, numbing emotion. It was followed by a
curious tingling feeling, as some dormant cells in
my mind answered to the thought-transfer, and were
filled and fertilised! My other brain-cells
most distinctly felt the vitalising of their companions,
and for about a minute I experienced extreme nausea
and a headache such as comes from over-study, though
both passed swiftly off. I presume that in the
future we shall all obtain knowledge in this way.
The Professors of a later day will perhaps keep shops
for the sale of miscellaneous information, and we
shall drop in and be inflated with learning just as
the bicyclist gets his tire pumped up, or the motorist
is recharged with electricity at so much per unit.
Examinations will then become matters of capacity
in the real meaning of that word, and we shall be
tempted to invest our pocket-money by advertisements
of “A cheap line in Astrology,” “Try
our double-strength, two-minute course of Classics,”
“This is remnant day for Trigonometry and Metaphysics,”
and so on.
My friend did not get as far as that. With him the
process did not take more than a minute, but it was startling in its results,
and reduced me to an extraordinary state of hypnotic receptibility. When
it was over my instructor tapped with a finger on my lips, uttering aloud as he
did so the words
“Know none; know some; know
little; know morel” again and again; and the
strangest part of it is that as he spoke I did know
at first a little, then more, and still more, by swift
accumulation, of his speech and meaning. In
fact, when presently he suddenly laid a hand over my
eyes and then let go of my head with a pleasantly put
question as to how I felt, I had no difficulty whatever
in answering him in his own tongue, and rose from
the ground as one gets from a hair-dresser’s
chair, with a vague idea of looking round for my hat
and offering him his fee.
“My word, sir!” I said,
in lisping Martian, as I pulled down my cuffs and
put my cravat straight, “that was a quick process.
I once heard of a man who learnt a language in the
moments he gave each day to having his boots blacked;
but this beats all. I trust I was a docile pupil?”
“Oh, fairly, sir,” answered
the soft, musical voice of the strange being by me;
“but your head is thick and your brain tough.
I could have taught another in half the time.”
“Curiously enough,” was
my response, “those are almost the very words
with which my dear old tutor dismissed me the morning
I left college. Never mind, the thing is done.
Shall I pay you anything?”
“I do not understand.”
“Any honorarium, then?
Some people understand one word and not the other.”
But the boy only shook his head in answer.
Strangely enough, I was not greatly
surprised all this time either at the novelty of my
whereabouts or at the hypnotic instruction in a new
language just received. Perhaps it was because
my head still spun too giddily with that flight in
the old rug for much thought; perhaps because I did
not yet fully realise the thing that had happened.
But, anyhow, there is the fact, which, like so many
others in my narrative, must, alas! remain unexplained
for the moment. The rug, by the way, had completely
disappeared, my friend comforting me on this score,
however, by saying he had seen it rolled up and taken
away by one whom he knew.
“We are very tidy people here,
stranger,” he said, “and everything found
Lying about goes back to the Palace store-rooms.
You will laugh to see the lumber there, for few of
us ever take the trouble to reclaim our property.”
Heaven knows I was in no laughing
mood when I saw that enchanted web again!
When I had lain and watched the brightening
scene for a time, I got up, and having stretched and
shaken my clothes into some sort of order, we strolled
down the hill and joined the light-hearted crowds that
twined across the plain and through the streets of
their city of booths. They were the prettiest,
daintiest folk ever eyes looked upon, well-formed
and like to us as could be in the main, but slender
and willowy, so dainty and light, both the men and
the women, so pretty of cheek and hair, so mild of
aspect, I felt, as I strode amongst them, I could have
plucked them like flowers and bound them up in bunches
with my belt. And yet somehow I liked them from
the first minute; such a happy, careless, light-hearted
race, again I say, never was seen before. There
was not a stain of thought or care on a single one
of those white foreheads that eddied round me under
their peaked, blossom-like caps, the perpetual smile
their faces wore never suffered rebuke anywhere; their
very movements were graceful and slow, their laughter
was low and musical, there was an odour of friendly,
slothful happiness about them that made me admire
whether I would or no.
Unfortunately I was not able to live
on laughter, as they appeared to be, so presently
turning to my acquaintance, who had told me his name
was the plain monosyllabic An, and clapping my hand
on his shoulder as he stood lost in sleepy reflection,
said, in a good, hearty way, “Hullo, friend
Yellow-jerkin! If a stranger might set himself
athwart the cheerful current of your meditations,
may such a one ask how far ’tis to the nearest
wine-shop or a booth where a thirsty man may get a
mug of ale at a moderate reckoning?”
That gilded youth staggered under my friendly blow as though
the hammer of Thor himself had suddenly lit upon his shoulder, and ruefully
rubbing his tender skin, he turned on me mild, handsome eyes, answering after a
moment, during which his native mildness struggled with the pain I had
unwittingly given him
“If your thirst be as emphatic
as your greeting, friend Heavy-fist, it will certainly
be a kindly deed to lead you to the drinking-place.
My shoulder tingles with your good-fellowship,”
he added, keeping two arms’-lengths clear of
me. “Do you wish,” he said, “merely
to cleanse a dusty throat, or for blue or pink oblivion?”
“Why,” I answered laughingly,
“I have come a longish journey since yesterday
night a journey out of count of all reasonable
mileage and I might fairly plead a dusty
throat as excuse for a beginning; but as to the other
things mentioned, those tinted forgetfulnesses, I do
not even know what you mean.”
“Undoubtedly you are a stranger,”
said the friendly youth, eyeing me from top to toe
with renewed wonder, “and by your unknown garb
one from afar.”
“From how far no man can say not
even I but from very far, in truth.
Let that stay your curiosity for the time. And
now to bench and ale-mug, on good fellow! the
shortest way. I was never so thirsty as this
since our water-butts went overboard when I sailed
the southern seas as a tramp apprentice, and for three
days we had to damp our black tongues with the puddles
the night-dews left in the lift of our mainsail.”
Without more words, being a little
awed of me, I thought, the boy led me through the
good-humoured crowd to where, facing the main road
to the town, but a little sheltered by a thicket of
trees covered with gigantic pink blossoms, stood a
drinking-place a cluster of tables set
round an open grass-plot. Here he brought me
a platter of some light inefficient cakes which merely
served to make hunger more self-conscious, and some
fine aromatic wine contained in a triple-bodied flask,
each division containing vintage of a separate hue.
We broke our biscuits, sipped that mysterious wine,
and talked of many things until at last something
set us on the subject of astronomy, a study I found
my dapper gallant had some knowledge of which
was not to be wondered at seeing he dwelt under skies
each night set thick above his curly head with tawny
planets, and glittering constellations sprinkled through
space like flowers in May meadows. He knew what
worlds went round the sun, larger or lesser, and seeing
this I began to question him, for I was uneasy in
my innermost mind and, you will remember, so far had
no certain knowledge of where I was, only a dim, restless
suspicion that I had come beyond the ken of all men’s
knowledge.
Therefore, sweeping clear the board
with my sleeve, and breaking the wafer cake I was
eating, I set down one central piece for the sun, and,
“See here!” I said, “good fellow!
This morsel shall stand for that sun you have just
been welcoming back with quaint ritual. Now stretch
your starry knowledge to the utmost, and put down
that tankard for a moment. If this be yonder
sun and this lesser crumb be the outermost one of our
revolving system, and this the next within, and this
the next, and so on; now if this be so tell me which
of these fragmentary orbs is ours which
of all these crumbs from the hand of the primordial
would be that we stand upon?” And I waited
with an anxiety a light manner thinly hid, to hear
his answer.
It came at once. Laughing as
though the question were too trivial, and more to
humour my wayward fancy than aught else, that boy circled
his rosy thumb about a minute and brought it down
on the planet Mars!
I started and stared at him; then
all of a tremble cried, “You trifle with me!
Choose again there, see, I will set the
symbols and name them to you anew. There now,
on your soul tell me truly which this planet is, the
one here at our feet?” And again the boy shook
his head, wondering at my eagerness, and pointed to
Mars, saying gently as he did so the fact was certain
as the day above us, nothing was marvellous but my
questioning.
Mars! oh, dreadful, tremendous, unexpected!
With a cry of affright, and bringing my fist down
on the table till all the cups upon it leapt, I told
him he lied lied like a simpleton whose
astronomy was as rotten as his wit smote
the table and scowled at him for a spell, then turned
away and let my chin fall upon my breast and my hands
upon my lap.
And yet, and yet, it might be so!
Everything about me was new and strange, the crisp,
thin air I breathed was new; the lukewarm sunshine
new; the sleek, long, ivory faces of the people new!
Yesterday was it yesterday? I
was back there away in a world that pines
to know of other worlds, and one fantastic wish of
mine, backed by a hideous, infernal chance, had swung
back the doors of space and shot me if that
boy spoke true into the outer void where
never living man had been before: all my wits
about me, all the horrible bathos of my earthly clothing
on me, all my terrestrial hungers in my veins!
I sprang to my feet and swept my hands
across my eyes. Was that a dream, or this?
No, no, both were too real. The hum of my faraway
city still rang in my ears: a swift vision of
the girl I had loved; of the men I had hated; of the
things I had hoped for rose before me, still dazing
my inner eye. And these about me were real people,
too; it was real earth; real skies, trees, and rocks had
the infernal gods indeed heard, I asked myself, the
foolish wish that started from my lips in a moment
of fierce discontent, and swept me into another sphere,
another existence? I looked at the boy as though
he could answer that question, but there was nothing
in his face but vacuous wonder; I clapped my hands
together and beat my breast; it was true; my soul
within me said it was true; the boy had not lied; the
djins had heard; I was just in the flesh I had; my
common human hungers still unsatisfied where never
mortal man had hungered before; and scarcely knowing
whether I feared or not, whether to laugh or cry, but
with all the wonder and terror of that great remove
sweeping suddenly upon me I staggered back to my seat,
and dropping my arms upon the table, leant my head
heavily upon them and strove to choke back the passion
which beset me.