"Aye, I will finish now the tale of Mars men on that day when sage—Atlantian—peered with eye—sense, heightened by tradition's flow of explanation. Explanation of the habits, garb and methods of those men who long before had taught their arts and sciences to others of their kind through that broad stream of interchanging thought which then was practiced.
Yes, I'll conclude the story of the Martians on that day when the wise Atlantean observed them with heightened perception, informed by generations of traditional knowledge. This knowledge explained the customs, attire, and practices of those ancient beings who had long ago shared their arts and sciences with others of their kind through the vast network of thought exchange that was common in those times.
"Later lost that art of interchange of speech through subtle note of Nature, understood and practiced by creatures who are less than we.
We have since lost that ability to communicate through subtle cues from nature, a skill still understood and used by creatures we consider less advanced than ourselves.
"Ye ask what foe he spied him through his glass? As he was pondering, on his sight there burst a wondrous vision. The tiny specks long floating to his eye, grew larger; birds at first they seemed, then clearly, flying ships of shape and size unlike the galleys sailing on the sea. Yet longer, lighter, woven from the fiber of some plant and held in shape by polished strands that metal seemed, yet Earth-man hath not seen its like.
Through his spyglass, he searched for enemies. As he scanned the horizon, a remarkable sight suddenly appeared. What at first seemed like tiny specks in the distance grew larger. Initially mistaken for birds, they soon revealed themselves to be flying ships, unlike any vessel sailing the seas below. These aerial craft were longer and lighter than traditional galleys, seemingly woven from plant fibers and supported by gleaming struts of an unfamiliar metal, the likes of which no earthly person had ever seen.
"Aye, sails had they enwoven with a care for magnet draughts. Electric entered there, but seemingly abeyed by other force, a combination of etheric gas and magnet cubes which, like the ocean buoy employed for balance ’gainst a certain poise to carry or convey the sailing boat to motive point.
Yes, the sails were carefully woven to harness magnetic currents. Electricity was present, but it seemed to be controlled by another force - a mixture of ethereal gas and magnetic cubes. This system, much like an ocean buoy used for balance, helped propel the sailing vessel to its destination.
"Great sails set transversely on the sides made coveted balance sweeps. Of lengthened hemp made fan-like, outer sails and cords that caught the breeze and slackened (speed?) steered by one observant man who held both magnet and a lever in his hands. Condensed atmosphere rose in a globe placed near the center of the ship, adjusted by a spring of purest 'platinum' and glass to ward electric shock."
"Great sails set crosswise on the sides served as prized balancing sweeps. There were outer sails of long hemp made fan-like, and cords that caught the breeze and slackened (speed?). They were steered by one watchful man who held both a magnet and a lever in his hands. Condensed atmosphere rose in a globe placed near the center of the ship. It was adjusted by a spring of purest 'platinum' and glass to ward off electric shock."
Thus, afterwards, learned he the ships were made.
Later, he discovered how the ships were built.
At last he spied the foe-men in the ships as on they came. A race of men whose faces lacked not intellect, but low upon their brows the stubborn hair did grow as apes. Their nether limbs lacked garment or yet greaves, but there a coat of fur showed to the sight.
Finally, he spotted the enemy approaching in their ships. These men had intelligent faces, but their low brows were covered in coarse hair, reminiscent of apes. Their legs were bare, without clothing or armor, instead covered in a visible coat of fur.
"What men are these?" quoth he. "The sages of old have told no tale of such as these! As men, yet ape, they seem! The men of Neptune!" cried he loud, at last. "I see the silver spears four-pronged! The circling light above each head that as a halo seems!
"Who are these creatures?" he exclaimed. "Ancient tales speak of nothing like them! They seem part human, part ape! They must be Neptunians!" he shouted finally. "I see their four-pronged silver spears! And those circular lights above their heads, like halos!"
"I wist thine eyes ne’er saw such shape"—to him beside. "Deft fingered, yet the fingers longer grown than man's on earth. Not claw-point, but a clean white tip which feels as keenly as the brain contends."
"I'm sure you've never seen a shape like this before," he said to the person next to him. "Skillful fingers, but longer than any human's on Earth. Not clawed, but with clean white tips that are as sensitive as they are intelligent."
The men of Mars stand watching with the helm on head and spear well pointed. Javelin throwers by the thousand stand with foot pressed hard upon the bars of shields that hold them from the foemen. Shields of toughened wood.
The Martian soldiers stand alert, helmeted and armed with sharpened spears. Thousands of javelin throwers are poised, their feet braced against their shields' crossbars, ready to face the enemy. These shields, made of hardened wood, form a barrier between them and their foes.
"But why not break in air the ships, these men of Mars, ere these, their foes, alight?"
"But why do these men of Mars not break the ships in the air, before these foes of theirs can land?"
All strong a stream of thought smote full his brain: "The law forbiddeth strife uneven. Man may hold his land, his home, by vantage of the spear and yet give to his foe a chance for life, nor send the shuddering soul unfairly from its shell." Thus came the power of thought unto him.
A strong stream of thought struck full upon his brain: "The law forbids uneven strife. A man may hold his land and his home by the advantage of the spear and still give his foe a chance for life, not sending the shuddering soul unfairly from its shell." So the power of thought came to him.
"Mars’ ships have warned of numbers. Stand her sons defensive. March the Neptune foemen at advance on leaving ships, well guarded at their anchorage.
Ships from Mars have reported large enemy forces. Martian troops must take up defensive positions. Neptune's soldiers are advancing from their well-guarded ships, marching towards us.
"Mars spearsmen make attack! The javelin-throwers stand, and all are so directed by the leading chiefs that colors tell their movements. These he holds in hand—the standards made from carven stem and silken stuff that casts a shimmer 'round and to the eye speaks method of attack."
Mars' spearmen launch their assault! The javelin-throwers take their positions, all guided by their commanders' orders, with colors signaling their movements. The leader grasps the standards - carved poles adorned with shimmering silk - which visually communicate the battle plan.
All was done in silence. Not a voice was heard, but trumpet blew loud blasts unheard by him who in the tower high did eager watch the fray. He saw the fiery, darting prongs of spears which tore the body in that fight. It was a fight of skill which men of Earth ne’er dreamed could be unfolded.
The battle unfolded in eerie silence. No voices could be heard, though trumpets blared unnoticed by the watchman in his lofty tower. He observed the fierce combat, witnessing spears with glowing tips tear into flesh. The fight displayed a level of skill beyond anything earthly warriors had ever imagined possible.
A fight where science stood by science's side with mind all paramount, and body playing part of motive force. For years of mental toil unfolded in that hour in stroke of missile-thrower from the suction-valve, and every spear was poised so that one thrust some vital part did pierce, and fell the man all painless dying.
A battle where science supported science, with intellect reigning supreme and the body serving as the driving force. Years of mental effort culminated in that hour, unleashed through the firing of projectiles from pneumatic launchers. Each spear was aimed with precision, striking vital areas and felling opponents who died swiftly and without suffering.
Science taught the point of vantage to the eye; to northward meant that action on the eye most irritating. The stroke less sure. Who faced the south was sun-smote. This the word; the glare within the circle where the spears tipped white with metal, hardened, dazzled, blinded and no aim was sure.
Science revealed the best vantage point for viewing. Looking north caused the most eye strain, making accuracy difficult. Those facing south were blinded by the sun. This was well-known; the glare within the circle where metal-tipped spears gleamed white made vision hazy, dazzled the eyes, and rendered aim unreliable.
Each army strove to face the vantage point of compass or yet the breeze that blowed with potency. To east or west was soldiers’ vantage point to face upon that planet. Sun-rays smote less the eye, nor carried shadow of a burnished blade to orb with such intensity. Thus they contended and each soldier strove to face the point to east or west as case might be or foe distributed.
Each army sought to position itself with the advantage of direction or wind, which blew forcefully. The soldiers aimed to face east or west, aligning themselves with the planet's orientation. This positioning reduced the sun's glare in their eyes and minimized the reflection of light off their polished blades. They competed for these tactical advantages, with each soldier striving to face either east or west, depending on the situation and the enemy's deployment.
At last the foemen fierce engaged were conscious of a cloud low over Mars. A denser cloud than e’er they sensed before. It shut the sun-light from the field of strife and caused a chill to creep upon each warrior there.
Finally, the fierce enemies became aware of a cloud hovering low over Mars. It was denser than any they had ever seen before. The cloud blocked the sunlight from the battlefield, causing a chill to creep over every warrior present.
"Behold!" a general cried, "the hands of gods lie low above us smiting us in turn, perchance, as we smite one another!"
"Look!" a general cried, "the hands of the gods hang low above us, striking us in turn, perhaps, as we strike one another!"
As he spake a rush of icy air encircled, a fall of seeming forms, and where the men of Mars stood red enrobed or Neptune's blue, or white like lily leaf, stood shadows—one for every warring man. And yet they seemed not shadows.
As he spoke, a gust of frigid air swirled around them. Ghostly shapes appeared, replacing the men in their vibrant uniforms - the Martians in red, the Neptunians in blue, and others in pristine white. Each soldier now had a shadowy counterpart, though these entities seemed more substantial than mere shadows.
Hair was blown from cheeks all rounded, youth was there enthralled beneath the helm of waving plumes and eyes, dark, laughing, scorning, perchance, looked from beneath their silken lash. Their limbs turned perfect as a statue stands of carven marble, and the flesh tint showed them fairer than the pausing warriors there.
Wind swept hair from rosy cheeks as youthful faces peered out from under plumed helmets. Dark, laughing eyes glanced up through silken lashes, perhaps with a hint of scorn. Their bodies were as flawless as marble statues, their skin tone more fair than that of the battle-worn warriors around them.
Their garment was the simple gown that shepherds wear and reached but to the knee, and sandals, made from hide, bound feet of slender mould.
They wore simple knee-length gowns typical of shepherds, with sandals made of animal hide fastened to their delicate feet.
No sound came from their lips, tradition speaks, but trumpets raised were shimmering bright as light on water. Arrows flew from bows of supple, carven wood and thongs of hide—a deer's, mayhap, or bears, I know not—and upon each shoulder bore each man his quivered arrows—pointed—sharp with stone that shone as diamond drops of dew.
Their lips were silent, but legend says their trumpets gleamed like sunlight on water. Arrows soared from bows of flexible, carved wood and leather straps—perhaps from deer or bear. Each warrior carried a quiver of arrows on their shoulder, tipped with stone points that sparkled like diamond dewdrops.
They charged impartially upon Mars and Neptune—seemed to smite with shortened axes to the left and right and fought in line of single, compact hordes; each line a wall of bristling marble seemed, with not one break. A line so long it wound its way yet thrice about the foemen armies, and to distance seemed to creep so far the eye reached not. A line of seeming solid flesh, arms touching, knee to knee, with not one break to show that any man had fallen. Fell they not—that host of shadows.
They charged Mars and Neptune alike and seemed to strike left and right with short axes. They fought in lines of single, compact hordes. Each line seemed a wall of bristling marble without a single break. The line was so long it wound three times around the enemy armies, and in the distance it seemed to creep so far that the eye could not reach its end. It was a line of seemingly solid flesh, arms touching, knee to knee, with no break to show that any man had fallen. They did not fall, that host of shadows.
The Mars-men, bold, recovered first and strove to pierce with spear. Next Neptune's fuller charge, impotent, broke not the ranks. A thrill of horror he could mark by look—the sage within the tower—ran through each warrior's frame as loud they seemed to cry: "Our spears pierce not! Our javelins, hurled at air, fall heavy! Bloodless! smiting naught! These men so bold, so fearless, from the clouds come they? Cloud spectres?"
The Martians, courageous as ever, were the first to recover and attempted to pierce the enemy lines with their spears. Neptune's more substantial attack followed but failed to break through. The wise observer in the tower noticed a wave of terror sweep through each warrior's face as they seemed to shout: "Our spears can't penetrate! Our javelins, thrown at nothing, fall uselessly! Bloodless! Hitting nothing! Are these fearless men from the sky? Are they cloud phantoms?"
Yet the horror of the fight was on them. Helpless fell the hand that held the spear, and to their air boats rushed old Neptune's sons while Mars’ stood helpless, dumb! The men of air rose slowly, seemingly returning whence they came.
Despite their bravery, the terror of battle overwhelmed them. The soldiers' hands, once firm on their weapons, now fell limp and useless. Neptune's forces quickly seized their air vessels, while Mars' troops stood paralyzed with fear. The airmen retreated slowly, appearing to return to their point of origin.
I know the science-body is the shell, and soul the all. The "form of thought" once seen seems but as man imbued with every attribute of flesh, yet frail to touch as shadow on the wall it be. Aye, such is thought. The men of Earth strove long to learn the secrets of old Mars and long had waited for the moment, thus, by science trained, the line of warriors slept as body sleeps but in the soul they wandered. Scarce three seconds had they stood upon the planet when the "fight" was done.
I know that the science-body is the shell, and the soul is everything. The "form of thought," once seen, looks just like a man endowed with every attribute of flesh, yet it is as frail to the touch as a shadow on the wall. Yes, such is thought. The men of Earth strove long to learn the secrets of old Mars and had long waited for the moment. And so, trained by science, the line of warriors slept as the body sleeps, but in the soul they wandered. They had stood on the planet for barely three seconds when the "fight" was over.
I tell the story in all truth as it was told to me: A general of that age when Thought did rule, so planned and taught that from a solitary point of Earth—this very land, * ye speak, those warriors, men, were sent long ages since.
I tell the story in all truth, as it was told to me. A general of that age when Thought ruled planned and taught in such a way that those warriors, men, were sent long ages ago from one solitary point on Earth. That point was this very land, * the one you speak of.
And yet ye speak: "In old barbaric days!"
You say, "Those were primitive times!"
On other planets that which hath no form, but is a force on earth, takes shape and substance, too, in time. And to the eyes of Mars’ men grows the shape or body. This is Law. A science of the matter formed in cloud on other planes or planets where the growth law differs from our own of earth. Where vapor forms in whorls and added growth makes spirals, branching, that which to our eyes is but the mist which sun drinks.
On other worlds, what exists as an invisible force on Earth takes physical form over time. To the inhabitants of Mars, this force develops a visible shape or body. This is a natural law - a science of matter formed in clouds on planets where growth patterns differ from Earth's. In these places, vapor forms in swirls, and as it grows, it creates spiraling, branching structures. To our eyes, this would appear as mere mist that the sun evaporates, but elsewhere it's much more substantial.