by Mark Wicks
CHAPTER XII
WE ARE MYSTERIOUSLY PREVENTED FROM APPROACHING MARS
The days then passed uneventfully until at last the long-looked-for dayarrived, and on the 24th September we were so close to Mars that wehoped to be able to land on the planet by two o'clock in the afternoon.We made ourselves a little sprucer than usual, as we wished to do creditto our own world; and M'Allister wore his overalls to protect hisclothes, although our machinery was not nearly so messy to handle assteam-engines usually are.
We had already examined our three machine-guns so that they might be inreadiness for any emergency, if some of the ideas of which we had readas to the probable ferocity of the Martians should prove correct. Ithad, however, been definitely agreed between us that the guns were onlyto be used as a last resort to defend our lives against a wanton attack,and were to be kept out of sight until they were really required. My ownconception of the Martians was, however, a very different one, though Ithought it quite right to be prepared for anything which might happen.
As Mars was only about twenty-five miles distant, its surface detailscould be fairly well seen through the clear thin atmosphere; and, withthe aid of a glass, one question at least was definitely settled--thenumerous lines of vegetation were fairly continuous; but there were nolarge canals to be seen, though we thought we could trace some narrowones.
We could also see several rapidly moving specks in the sky, which, wesuggested, might be air-ships of some kind; but they were so far off andindistinct, that we were unable to arrive at a definite conclusion.
Our speed having been gradually reduced, we were now only moving at therate of twenty-five miles an hour, and it was therefore time to decideon a landing-place. John and M'Allister pointed out a conspicuous spotnot very far from the centre of the visible surface of the planet, Johnremarking that we should be about right if we landed there, becauseseveral canals converged to it, and it must, therefore, be a place ofsome importance. On looking at the map we found that it was marked asthe Nodus Gordii, or "Gordian Knot"; so, really, it seemed anappropriate landing-place for travellers who were desirous of solvingmysteries.
"Very well, then," I said, "we'll land there if you like, but I hadrather a fancy for a different spot, which is on the Sinus Titanum. Itis that place over there, near the point where the vegetation curvesdown in both directions," I remarked, as I pointed out the spot.
"Your place is rather nearer to the equator, and is probably prettywarm; but really it does not matter where we land so long as we arriveon the planet. Your votes are two to my one; so, as you have a thumpingmajority, go ahead, M'Allister, for the place you have chosen! We willsee whether we can cut the Gordian Knot, if we cannot undo it!"
_From a Globe made by M. Wicks_ Plate X
MARS. MAP III
"Sirapion," the landing-place of the "Areonal," is shown just above thepoint of the shaded portion near the top. The "Nodus Gordii," where Johnwished to land, is seen between the double canal just above the Equator,on the left-hand side of the map.]
He accordingly directed his course towards the chosen spot; but we hadnot proceeded very far before everything below us suddenly disappeared,being quite blotted out by something of an ochre tint, which entirelyobscured our view of the country.
"Professor," exclaimed M'Allister, "what is the matter? I cannot seewhere we are going!"
"I can guess what it is," I replied; "we have run into one of thosesand-clouds I told you of the other evening, and until we get through,or it passes away, we shall see nothing else. Perhaps we had better goon very slowly."
We went on accordingly, but instead of our getting through it, the cloudseemed to become denser and denser. However, we still pressed on, and,after what seemed quite a long time, we emerged into somewhat clearerair, although there was still a thin yellow cloud below us. Our coursehad been well maintained, for we seemed to be within ten miles of ourdestination, which we could just make out through the thin dust-cloud.
Presently M'Allister called out to me, "Professor, I don't know what iswrong, but the machinery is slowing down so much that I am afraid weshall soon come to a dead stop! I have switched on more power, but itdoes not seem to make any difference!"
"Well, try a little stronger current," I suggested; "but be careful notto overdo it, or we may land upon Mars more suddenly than we shalllike."
He tried this, but we had not moved more than a hundred yards when hefound that farther progress was impossible. So here we were, only a fewmiles from our destination, yet prevented by an impalpable and unknownobstacle from reaching it!
We consulted together, but could find no solution of the mystery of thisinvisible barrier to our progress. Then John suggested that, as we couldnot go straight on, we should try a different course. So M'Allisteraltered our course a few points, and once more put on the speed power,only to be brought to a standstill again after a very short spurt.
"My word!" he exclaimed, "I'll not be beaten like this. I've driven anold iron tramp-steamer through scores of miles of thick seaweed out inthe tropics, although the machinery was almost worn out and the enginesleaking at every joint. Here goes for full speed ahead!" he cried; and,so saying, he switched on full power, quite heedless of my shout of "Dobe careful, M'Allister, or we shall all be smashed to pieces!"
"She's got to go!" he replied grimly, "smash or no smash! I never wasbeaten yet when pushing my way through obstacles, and I'm too old a handto be beaten now!"
However, he found he was beaten this time, for although he switched onthe utmost power, it refused to give any evidence of its existence, andwe had to rely on our neutral power in order to maintain our position inthe air; though, as events proved, we could not have fallen.
The excitement and tension of the work had thrown M'Allister into aprofuse perspiration; and, as he stood moodily mopping his brow with hishandkerchief, I heard him muttering and swearing softly to himself. Hisblood was evidently up, for he made another desperate attempt to getthe _Areonal_ to move forward, wrenching his switches with angry jerks,but it all proved labour in vain.
"Well, what is to be done now, John?" I asked; "we have tried twocourses without any effect!"
"I would suggest, Professor, that we should go up higher," he replied,"so as to enable us to try again from another altitude, then, perhaps,we may pass above the obstacle."
"A good thought that, John!" I cried. So up we went, the machineryworking all right now, and our spirits rose as we soared higher; but,alas! after rising a few hundred yards, the machines began to slow down,and soon stopped altogether.
"The de'il himself must be taking a hand in this business!" exclaimedM'Allister, "for this beats the worst experience I ever had! We can't goup, we can't go down, and we can't go forward! Whatever can we do,Professor? You're a scientific man; can't you suggest something whichmight help?"
"It's a profound mystery to me, M'Allister," I replied, "but wecertainly do not want to remain hung up in space, so I suggest youshould try several different courses. Surely, in some direction we shallfind a way out of this, and get to our destination."
This plan was tried, M'Allister doggedly setting his course first in onedirection, then in another, and trying to put on enough power to forcethe vessel along; but time after time we came to a standstill aftermoving very slowly for a short distance.
"It looks as though we were to be hung up here indefinitely," said John."We do not seem able to get through this mysterious obstacle, whateverit may be, or whatever course we may try."
"Oh, we've not tried all points yet," I said. "We must not give up nowwe have got so close to the object of our trip. Take a fresh course,M'Allister."
He took a fresh course, and another after that, but with exactly thesame result.
I had never seen M'Allister in such a perturbed state before; heactually trembled all over with the intensity of his feelings, and hisface had an expression of grim determination such as I should imaginemight be seen on the face of a soldier at bay with his back to a wall,an
d fighting for his life against overwhelming numbers of assailants.
"My word!" he exclaimed, "yon's Mars, and here's us, but it doesn't seemas if we should ever come together. Losh mon, bonnie Scotland for ever!Here goes for another try!" and he switched on the current again with avicious pull.
We watched the machines with intense anxiety, wondering whether this newcourse would be any better than the others we had tried--whether themachines would keep moving, or slow down and stop as before.
No, we kept moving; and soon it was evident we were gaining speedrapidly.
"Hurrah, hurrah!" I cried in exultation. "We are doing it this time.Slow down, M'Allister, we are going too fast now!"
"Scotland for ever!" he shrieked. "That did it, Professor!"
Strangely enough, John, usually the most excitable member of our party,was the calmest of the three, and simply remarked quietly, "We've doneit this time."
Yes, we had indeed done it this time, but our attention had been sotaken up with our anxious watching of the machines that none of us hadnoticed the direction we were taking.
We had passed entirely through the last remnant of the sand clouds, andit was now beautifully clear, the thin air enabling us to see over avery large area of country. For the first time since leaving the earth Inow opened one of the doors very slightly indeed, and tested the effectof the real Martian atmosphere.
It seemed to us rather sharp, with a taste something like that of atonic medicine, but we were all able to breathe it without any seriousinconvenience, though at first it made us gasp.
Being assured there was no danger, I stepped out on to the platform andlooked down, then started back in utter astonishment, exclaiming to theothers, "Why, look! look! See where we are!"
