The “Thunder Child”

Had the Martians aimed only at destruction, they might on Monday have annihilated the entire population of London, as it spread itself slowly through the home counties. Not only along the road through Barnet, but also through Edgware and Waltham Abbey, and along the roads eastward to Southend and Shoeburyness, and south of the Thames to Deal and Broadstairs, poured the same frantic rout. If one could have hung that June morning in a balloon in the blazing blue above London every northward and eastward road running out of the tangled maze of streets would have seemed stippled black with the streaming fugitives, each dot a human agony of terror and physical distress. I have set forth at length in the last chapter my brother’s account of the road through Chipping Barnet, in order that my readers may realise how that swarming of black dots appeared to one of those concerned. Never before in the history of the world had such a mass of human beings moved and suffered together. The legendary hosts of Goths and Huns, the hugest armies Asia has ever seen, would have been but a drop in that current. And this was no disciplined march; it was a stampede—a stampede gigantic and terrible—without order and without a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of the massacre of mankind.

If the Martians had aimed only at destruction, they might have wiped out London’s entire population on Monday. The people were slowly spreading through the home counties. The same frantic crowd poured along the roads through Barnet, Edgware, and Waltham Abbey. They also fled eastward to Southend and Shoeburyness, and south of the Thames to Deal and Broadstairs. If you could have floated in a balloon above London that June morning, beneath the blazing blue sky, you would have seen black dots on every road leading north and east from the maze of streets. The dots would have been streaming fugitives, each one a person suffering terror and physical distress. In the last chapter, I gave my brother’s account of the road through Chipping Barnet in detail. I did so to show readers how that swarm of black dots appeared to someone caught up in it. Never before in world history had such a mass of people moved and suffered together. The legendary hosts of Goths and Huns, and the largest armies Asia has ever seen, would have been just a drop in that current. And this was no disciplined march. It was a stampede, gigantic and terrible, without order or a goal. Six million people, unarmed and without provisions, were rushing headlong. It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of the massacre of mankind.

Directly below him the balloonist would have seen the network of streets far and wide, houses, churches, squares, crescents, gardens—already derelict—spread out like a huge map, and in the southward blotted. Over Ealing, Richmond, Wimbledon, it would have seemed as if some monstrous pen had flung ink upon the chart. Steadily, incessantly, each black splash grew and spread, shooting out ramifications this way and that, now banking itself against rising ground, now pouring swiftly over a crest into a new-found valley, exactly as a gout of ink would spread itself upon blotting paper.

Directly below him, the balloonist would have seen streets stretching far and wide, spread out like a huge map. Houses, churches, squares, crescents, and gardens were already abandoned. To the south, the map was blotted. Over Ealing, Richmond, and Wimbledon, it would have looked as if a monstrous pen had splashed ink across the map. Each black splash grew and spread steadily, without stopping. Branches shot out in every direction. The blackness piled up against rising ground, then poured swiftly over a crest into a new valley. It spread exactly as a drop of ink spreads on blotting paper.

And beyond, over the blue hills that rise southward of the river, the glittering Martians went to and fro, calmly and methodically spreading their poison cloud over this patch of country and then over that, laying it again with their steam jets when it had served its purpose, and taking possession of the conquered country. They do not seem to have aimed at extermination so much as at complete demoralisation and the destruction of any opposition. They exploded any stores of powder they came upon, cut every telegraph, and wrecked the railways here and there. They were hamstringing mankind. They seemed in no hurry to extend the field of their operations, and did not come beyond the central part of London all that day. It is possible that a very considerable number of people in London stuck to their houses through Monday morning. Certain it is that many died at home suffocated by the Black Smoke.

Beyond the river, blue hills rose to the south. Over them, the glittering Martians moved back and forth, calmly and methodically spreading their poison cloud over one area, then another. When the cloud had served its purpose, they cleared it with their steam jets and took possession of the conquered land. They seemed less intent on extermination than on completely breaking people’s morale and destroying all opposition. They blew up any stores of gunpowder they found, cut every telegraph line, and wrecked the railways in places. They were crippling humanity. They seemed in no hurry to expand their operations and did not go beyond central London all that day. It is possible that a great many people in London stayed in their homes through Monday morning. What is certain is that many died at home, suffocated by the Black Smoke.

Until about midday the Pool of London was an astonishing scene. Steamboats and shipping of all sorts lay there, tempted by the enormous sums of money offered by fugitives, and it is said that many who swam out to these vessels were thrust off with boathooks and drowned. About one o’clock in the afternoon the thinning remnant of a cloud of the black vapour appeared between the arches of Blackfriars Bridge. At that the Pool became a scene of mad confusion, fighting, and collision, and for some time a multitude of boats and barges jammed in the northern arch of the Tower Bridge, and the sailors and lightermen had to fight savagely against the people who swarmed upon them from the riverfront. People were actually clambering down the piers of the bridge from above.

Until around noon, the Pool of London was an astonishing sight. Steamboats and vessels of all kinds waited there, drawn by the enormous sums offered by people fleeing. It was said that many people who swam out to the vessels were pushed away with boathooks and drowned. Around one o’clock in the afternoon, the thinning remains of a cloud of black vapour appeared between the arches of Blackfriars Bridge. At once, the Pool erupted into wild confusion, fighting, and collisions. For some time, a crowd of boats and barges were jammed in the northern arch of Tower Bridge. Sailors and lightermen had to fight savagely against people who swarmed onto their vessels from the riverfront. People were even climbing down the bridge piers from above.

When, an hour later, a Martian appeared beyond the Clock Tower and waded down the river, nothing but wreckage floated above Limehouse.

An hour later, a Martian appeared beyond the Clock Tower and waded down the river. By then, only wreckage floated above Limehouse.

Of the falling of the fifth cylinder I have presently to tell. The sixth star fell at Wimbledon. My brother, keeping watch beside the women in the chaise in a meadow, saw the green flash of it far beyond the hills. On Tuesday the little party, still set upon getting across the sea, made its way through the swarming country towards Colchester. The news that the Martians were now in possession of the whole of London was confirmed. They had been seen at Highgate, and even, it was said, at Neasden. But they did not come into my brother’s view until the morrow.

I will soon tell of the fall of the fifth cylinder. The sixth star fell at Wimbledon. My brother was keeping watch beside the women in the chaise in a meadow. He saw its green flash far beyond the hills. On Tuesday, the small group still hoped to cross the sea. They made their way through the crowded countryside towards Colchester. The news was confirmed: the Martians now held all of London. They had been seen at Highgate and, people said, even at Neasden. But my brother did not see the Martians until the next day.

That day the scattered multitudes began to realise the urgent need of provisions. As they grew hungry the rights of property ceased to be regarded. Farmers were out to defend their cattle-sheds, granaries, and ripening root crops with arms in their hands. A number of people now, like my brother, had their faces eastward, and there were some desperate souls even going back towards London to get food. These were chiefly people from the northern suburbs, whose knowledge of the Black Smoke came by hearsay. He heard that about half the members of the government had gathered at Birmingham, and that enormous quantities of high explosives were being prepared to be used in automatic mines across the Midland counties.

That day, the scattered crowds began to realize how urgently they needed food. As they grew hungry, they stopped respecting property rights. Farmers took up arms to defend their cattle sheds, granaries, and ripening root crops. By now, a number of people, like my brother, were heading east. Some desperate people were even going back toward London to get food. Most of them were from the northern suburbs and knew about the Black Smoke only from what they had heard. My brother heard that about half the members of the government had gathered in Birmingham. He also heard that enormous quantities of high explosives were being prepared for use in automatic mines across the Midland counties.

He was also told that the Midland Railway Company had replaced the desertions of the first day’s panic, had resumed traffic, and was running northward trains from St. Albans to relieve the congestion of the home counties. There was also a placard in Chipping Ongar announcing that large stores of flour were available in the northern towns and that within twenty-four hours bread would be distributed among the starving people in the neighbourhood. But this intelligence did not deter him from the plan of escape he had formed, and the three pressed eastward all day, and heard no more of the bread distribution than this promise. Nor, as a matter of fact, did anyone else hear more of it. That night fell the seventh star, falling upon Primrose Hill. It fell while Miss Elphinstone was watching, for she took that duty alternately with my brother. She saw it.

He was also told that the Midland Railway Company had replaced the workers who fled in the first day’s panic. The company had resumed service and was running northbound trains from St. Albans to ease overcrowding in the home counties. A notice in Chipping Ongar also announced that large supplies of flour were available in the northern towns. It said bread would be distributed to starving people in the area within twenty-four hours. But this news did not deter him from his escape plan. The three continued eastward all day and heard nothing more about the bread distribution beyond that promise. In fact, no one else heard any more about it either. That night, the seventh star fell on Primrose Hill. Miss Elphinstone was keeping watch when it fell. She and my brother took turns watching. She saw it fall.

On Wednesday the three fugitives—they had passed the night in a field of unripe wheat—reached Chelmsford, and there a body of the inhabitants, calling itself the Committee of Public Supply, seized the pony as provisions, and would give nothing in exchange for it but the promise of a share in it the next day. Here there were rumours of Martians at Epping, and news of the destruction of Waltham Abbey Powder Mills in a vain attempt to blow up one of the invaders.

On Wednesday, the three fugitives reached Chelmsford. They had spent the night in a field of unripe wheat. In Chelmsford, a group of residents calling itself the Committee of Public Supply seized the pony for food. In exchange, the group offered only a promise of a share of the meat the next day. There were rumors of Martians at Epping. There was also news that Waltham Abbey Powder Mills had been destroyed in a failed attempt to blow up one of the invaders.

People were watching for Martians here from the church towers. My brother, very luckily for him as it chanced, preferred to push on at once to the coast rather than wait for food, although all three of them were very hungry. By midday they passed through Tillingham, which, strangely enough, seemed to be quite silent and deserted, save for a few furtive plunderers hunting for food. Near Tillingham they suddenly came in sight of the sea, and the most amazing crowd of shipping of all sorts that it is possible to imagine.

People were watching for Martians from the church towers here. Although all three were very hungry, my brother chose to head straight for the coast rather than wait for food. As it turned out, he was very lucky to have made that choice. By midday, they passed through Tillingham. Strangely, the town seemed completely silent and deserted, except for a few people secretly looting for food. Near Tillingham, they suddenly saw the sea and the most amazing crowd of ships and boats imaginable.

For after the sailors could no longer come up the Thames, they came on to the Essex coast, to Harwich and Walton and Clacton, and afterwards to Foulness and Shoebury, to bring off the people. They lay in a huge sickle-shaped curve that vanished into mist at last towards the Naze. Close inshore was a multitude of fishing smacks—English, Scotch, French, Dutch, and Swedish; steam launches from the Thames, yachts, electric boats; and beyond were ships of larger burden, a multitude of filthy colliers, trim merchantmen, cattle ships, passenger boats, petroleum tanks, ocean tramps, an old white transport even, neat white and grey liners from Southampton and Hamburg; and along the blue coast across the Blackwater my brother could make out dimly a dense swarm of boats chaffering with the people on the beach, a swarm which also extended up the Blackwater almost to Maldon.

For when the sailors could no longer sail up the Thames, they came to the Essex coast to take people away. They went to Harwich, Walton, and Clacton, and later to Foulness and Shoebury. Their vessels formed a huge crescent that finally disappeared into the mist towards the Naze. Close to shore were countless fishing boats from England, Scotland, France, the Netherlands, and Sweden. There were also steam launches from the Thames, yachts, and electric boats. Farther out were larger ships: countless filthy coal ships, tidy merchant ships, cattle ships, passenger boats, oil tankers, and ocean freighters. There was even an old white transport ship, along with neat white and grey liners from Southampton and Hamburg. Across the Blackwater, my brother could just make out a dense swarm of boats along the blue coast. The boats were bargaining with people on the beach, and the swarm extended up the Blackwater almost to Maldon.

About a couple of miles out lay an ironclad, very low in the water, almost, to my brother’s perception, like a water-logged ship. This was the ram Thunder Child. It was the only warship in sight, but far away to the right over the smooth surface of the sea—for that day there was a dead calm—lay a serpent of black smoke to mark the next ironclads of the Channel Fleet, which hovered in an extended line, steam up and ready for action, across the Thames estuary during the course of the Martian conquest, vigilant and yet powerless to prevent it.

About two miles out was an ironclad, sitting very low in the water. To my brother, it looked almost like a waterlogged ship. This was the ram Thunder Child. It was the only warship in sight, but far to the right, a long trail of black smoke stretched over the smooth sea. The sea was completely calm that day. The smoke marked the position of the other ironclads of the Channel Fleet. Throughout the Martian conquest, they waited in a long line across the Thames estuary, with steam up and ready for action. They were watchful, yet powerless to stop the conquest.

At the sight of the sea, Mrs. Elphinstone, in spite of the assurances of her sister-in-law, gave way to panic. She had never been out of England before, she would rather die than trust herself friendless in a foreign country, and so forth. She seemed, poor woman, to imagine that the French and the Martians might prove very similar. She had been growing increasingly hysterical, fearful, and depressed during the two days’ journeyings. Her great idea was to return to Stanmore. Things had been always well and safe at Stanmore. They would find George at Stanmore....

At the sight of the sea, Mrs. Elphinstone panicked, despite her sister-in-law’s reassurances. She had never left England before. She would rather die than be alone and friendless in a foreign country, and so on. The poor woman seemed to imagine that the French and the Martians might be very similar. During the two days of travel, she had grown increasingly hysterical, fearful, and depressed. Her main idea was to return to Stanmore. Things had always been well and safe at Stanmore. They would find George at Stanmore....

It was with the greatest difficulty they could get her down to the beach, where presently my brother succeeded in attracting the attention of some men on a paddle steamer from the Thames. They sent a boat and drove a bargain for thirty-six pounds for the three. The steamer was going, these men said, to Ostend.

They managed to get her down to the beach, but only with great difficulty. There, my brother soon caught the attention of some men on a paddle steamer from the Thames. They sent a boat and agreed to take the three for thirty-six pounds. The men said the steamer was going to Ostend.

It was about two o’clock when my brother, having paid their fares at the gangway, found himself safely aboard the steamboat with his charges. There was food aboard, albeit at exorbitant prices, and the three of them contrived to eat a meal on one of the seats forward.

It was about two o’clock when my brother paid their fares at the gangway. He and the people in his care were safely aboard the steamboat. There was food aboard, although it was very expensive. The three of them managed to eat a meal on a seat at the front of the boat.

There were already a couple of score of passengers aboard, some of whom had expended their last money in securing a passage, but the captain lay off the Blackwater until five in the afternoon, picking up passengers until the seated decks were even dangerously crowded. He would probably have remained longer had it not been for the sound of guns that began about that hour in the south. As if in answer, the ironclad seaward fired a small gun and hoisted a string of flags. A jet of smoke sprang out of her funnels.

There were already about forty passengers aboard. Some had spent their last money on passage. But the captain waited off the Blackwater until five in the afternoon, taking on more passengers. The decks, which had seats, became dangerously crowded. He would probably have stayed longer, but gunfire began in the south around five. As if in answer, the ironclad farther out to sea fired a small gun and raised a string of flags. A jet of smoke burst from its funnels.

Some of the passengers were of opinion that this firing came from Shoeburyness, until it was noticed that it was growing louder. At the same time, far away in the southeast the masts and upperworks of three ironclads rose one after the other out of the sea, beneath clouds of black smoke. But my brother’s attention speedily reverted to the distant firing in the south. He fancied he saw a column of smoke rising out of the distant grey haze.

Some passengers thought the firing came from Shoeburyness, until they noticed it was growing louder. At the same time, three ironclad warships appeared one after another on the distant southeastern horizon. Their masts and upper structures rose above the sea, beneath clouds of black smoke. But my brother’s attention soon returned to the distant firing in the south. He thought he saw a column of smoke rising from the distant grey haze.

The little steamer was already flapping her way eastward of the big crescent of shipping, and the low Essex coast was growing blue and hazy, when a Martian appeared, small and faint in the remote distance, advancing along the muddy coast from the direction of Foulness. At that the captain on the bridge swore at the top of his voice with fear and anger at his own delay, and the paddles seemed infected with his terror. Every soul aboard stood at the bulwarks or on the seats of the steamer and stared at that distant shape, higher than the trees or church towers inland, and advancing with a leisurely parody of a human stride.

The little steamer was already churning eastward, past the great crescent of ships. The low Essex coast was growing blue and hazy. Then a Martian appeared, small and faint in the far distance. It was advancing along the muddy coast from the direction of Foulness. On seeing it, the captain on the bridge swore at the top of his voice, afraid and angry at his own delay. The paddles seemed to catch his terror. Everyone aboard stood at the railings or on the steamer’s seats, staring at the distant shape. It was taller than the trees or church towers inland. It advanced with a leisurely stride that mimicked a human’s.

It was the first Martian my brother had seen, and he stood, more amazed than terrified, watching this Titan advancing deliberately towards the shipping, wading farther and farther into the water as the coast fell away. Then, far away beyond the Crouch, came another, striding over some stunted trees, and then yet another, still farther off, wading deeply through a shiny mudflat that seemed to hang halfway up between sea and sky. They were all stalking seaward, as if to intercept the escape of the multitudinous vessels that were crowded between Foulness and the Naze. In spite of the throbbing exertions of the engines of the little paddle-boat, and the pouring foam that her wheels flung behind her, she receded with terrifying slowness from this ominous advance.

It was the first Martian my brother had seen. He stood watching, more amazed than terrified, as the giant moved steadily toward the ships. It waded farther and farther into the water as the coast sloped away. Then, far beyond the Crouch, another appeared, striding over some stunted trees. Still farther away, a third waded through deep water over a shiny mudflat. The mudflat seemed to hang halfway between sea and sky. All three were moving toward the sea, as if to intercept the many vessels crowded between Foulness and the Naze. The little paddle boat's engines throbbed with effort, and its wheels flung streams of foam behind it. Even so, it moved away from the ominous advance with terrifying slowness.

Glancing northwestward, my brother saw the large crescent of shipping already writhing with the approaching terror; one ship passing behind another, another coming round from broadside to end on, steamships whistling and giving off volumes of steam, sails being let out, launches rushing hither and thither. He was so fascinated by this and by the creeping danger away to the left that he had no eyes for anything seaward. And then a swift movement of the steamboat (she had suddenly come round to avoid being run down) flung him headlong from the seat upon which he was standing. There was a shouting all about him, a trampling of feet, and a cheer that seemed to be answered faintly. The steamboat lurched and rolled him over upon his hands.

Looking northwest, my brother saw the large crescent of ships already twisting in confusion as terror approached. One ship passed behind another. Another turned from side-on to end-on. Steamships whistled and sent out clouds of steam, sails were being unfurled, and small boats rushed back and forth. He was so fascinated by the ships and the creeping danger to the left that he noticed nothing out at sea. Then the steamboat suddenly turned to avoid being run down, throwing him headfirst from the seat where he stood. People shouted and stamped their feet all around him. A cheer went up and seemed to receive a faint answer. The steamboat lurched, rolling him over onto his hands.

He sprang to his feet and saw to starboard, and not a hundred yards from their heeling, pitching boat, a vast iron bulk like the blade of a plough tearing through the water, tossing it on either side in huge waves of foam that leaped towards the steamer, flinging her paddles helplessly in the air, and then sucking her deck down almost to the waterline.

He jumped to his feet and looked to starboard. Less than a hundred yards from their tilting, pitching boat, a vast iron mass tore through the water like a plough blade. It threw up huge foaming waves on either side. The waves surged toward the steamer, flinging its paddle wheels helplessly into the air. Then they pulled its deck down almost to the waterline.

A douche of spray blinded my brother for a moment. When his eyes were clear again he saw the monster had passed and was rushing landward. Big iron upperworks rose out of this headlong structure, and from that twin funnels projected and spat a smoking blast shot with fire. It was the torpedo ram, Thunder Child, steaming headlong, coming to the rescue of the threatened shipping.

A burst of spray blinded my brother for a moment. When he could see again, the monster had passed and was rushing toward land. Huge iron structures rose above the speeding vessel. Two funnels projected from them, blasting out smoke streaked with fire. It was the torpedo ram, Thunder Child, steaming ahead at full speed to rescue the threatened ships.

Keeping his footing on the heaving deck by clutching the bulwarks, my brother looked past this charging leviathan at the Martians again, and he saw the three of them now close together, and standing so far out to sea that their tripod supports were almost entirely submerged. Thus sunken, and seen in remote perspective, they appeared far less formidable than the huge iron bulk in whose wake the steamer was pitching so helplessly. It would seem they were regarding this new antagonist with astonishment. To their intelligence, it may be, the giant was even such another as themselves. The Thunder Child fired no gun, but simply drove full speed towards them. It was probably her not firing that enabled her to get so near the enemy as she did. They did not know what to make of her. One shell, and they would have sent her to the bottom forthwith with the Heat-Ray.

My brother held onto the bulwarks to keep his footing on the heaving deck. Looking past the charging giant, he saw the Martians again. The three were now close together, standing so far out to sea that their tripod supports were almost entirely submerged. Seen from a distance, with so much of them underwater, they looked far less formidable than the huge iron ship. The steamer was pitching helplessly in the ship's wake. The Martians seemed astonished by this new opponent. Perhaps they thought the giant ship was another being like themselves. The Thunder Child fired no guns, but simply drove toward them at full speed. She probably got so close to the enemy because she did not fire. The Martians did not know what to make of her. If she had fired one shell, they would have immediately sent her to the bottom with the Heat-Ray.

She was steaming at such a pace that in a minute she seemed halfway between the steamboat and the Martians—a diminishing black bulk against the receding horizontal expanse of the Essex coast.

She was moving so fast that, within a minute, she seemed halfway between the steamboat and the Martians. She was a shrinking black shape against the wide, flat Essex coast as it receded behind her.

Suddenly the foremost Martian lowered his tube and discharged a canister of the black gas at the ironclad. It hit her larboard side and glanced off in an inky jet that rolled away to seaward, an unfolding torrent of Black Smoke, from which the ironclad drove clear. To the watchers from the steamer, low in the water and with the sun in their eyes, it seemed as though she were already among the Martians.

Suddenly, the Martian at the front lowered his tube and fired a canister of black gas at the ironclad. It hit the ship's port side and bounced off, releasing an inky jet that rolled out to sea. The jet expanded into a torrent of Black Smoke, but the ironclad drove clear of it. The people watching from the steamer were low in the water, with the sun in their eyes. To them, it seemed as though the ironclad was already among the Martians.

They saw the gaunt figures separating and rising out of the water as they retreated shoreward, and one of them raised the camera-like generator of the Heat-Ray. He held it pointing obliquely downward, and a bank of steam sprang from the water at its touch. It must have driven through the iron of the ship’s side like a white-hot iron rod through paper.

They saw the gaunt figures separate and rise out of the water as they retreated toward shore. One of them raised the camera-like generator of the Heat-Ray. He pointed it downward at an angle, and a cloud of steam rose where the ray touched the water. It must have cut through the iron side of the ship like a white-hot iron rod through paper.

A flicker of flame went up through the rising steam, and then the Martian reeled and staggered. In another moment he was cut down, and a great body of water and steam shot high in the air. The guns of the Thunder Child sounded through the reek, going off one after the other, and one shot splashed the water high close by the steamer, ricocheted towards the other flying ships to the north, and smashed a smack to matchwood.

A flicker of flame rose through the steam, and then the Martian reeled and staggered. A moment later, he was cut down, and a great mass of water and steam shot high into the air. The guns of the Thunder Child fired one after another through the smoke and steam. One shot sent water splashing high near the steamer. It then ricocheted toward the other fleeing ships to the north and smashed a small fishing boat to pieces.

But no one heeded that very much. At the sight of the Martian’s collapse the captain on the bridge yelled inarticulately, and all the crowding passengers on the steamer’s stern shouted together. And then they yelled again. For, surging out beyond the white tumult, drove something long and black, the flames streaming from its middle parts, its ventilators and funnels spouting fire.

But no one paid much attention to that. When the Martian collapsed, the captain on the bridge gave an inarticulate yell. All the passengers crowded on the steamer’s stern shouted together. Then they shouted again. Something long and black was surging out beyond the churning white water. Flames streamed from its middle, and its ventilators and funnels spewed fire.

She was alive still; the steering gear, it seems, was intact and her engines working. She headed straight for a second Martian, and was within a hundred yards of him when the Heat-Ray came to bear. Then with a violent thud, a blinding flash, her decks, her funnels, leaped upward. The Martian staggered with the violence of her explosion, and in another moment the flaming wreckage, still driving forward with the impetus of its pace, had struck him and crumpled him up like a thing of cardboard. My brother shouted involuntarily. A boiling tumult of steam hid everything again.

The ship was still alive. Its steering gear seemed intact, and its engines were working. It headed straight for a second Martian and came within a hundred yards of him before the Heat-Ray struck. Then came a violent thud and a blinding flash. The ship’s decks and funnels leaped upward. The force of the explosion made the Martian stagger. A moment later, the flaming wreckage struck him, still driven forward by its speed, and crumpled him like cardboard. My brother shouted without meaning to. A boiling cloud of steam hid everything again.

“Two!” yelled the captain.

“Two!” yelled the captain.

Everyone was shouting. The whole steamer from end to end rang with frantic cheering that was taken up first by one and then by all in the crowding multitude of ships and boats that was driving out to sea.

Everyone was shouting. Frantic cheers rang out from one end of the steamer to the other. The cheers spread first to one, then to all of the crowded ships and boats heading out to sea.

The steam hung upon the water for many minutes, hiding the third Martian and the coast altogether. And all this time the boat was paddling steadily out to sea and away from the fight; and when at last the confusion cleared, the drifting bank of black vapour intervened, and nothing of the Thunder Child could be made out, nor could the third Martian be seen. But the ironclads to seaward were now quite close and standing in towards shore past the steamboat.

Steam hung over the water for many minutes, completely hiding the third Martian and the coast. All the while, the boat paddled steadily out to sea, away from the fight. When the confusion finally cleared, a drifting bank of black vapor blocked the view. Neither the Thunder Child nor the third Martian could be seen. But the ironclads farther out at sea were now quite close. They were heading toward shore, passing the steamboat.

The little vessel continued to beat its way seaward, and the ironclads receded slowly towards the coast, which was hidden still by a marbled bank of vapour, part steam, part black gas, eddying and combining in the strangest way. The fleet of refugees was scattering to the northeast; several smacks were sailing between the ironclads and the steamboat. After a time, and before they reached the sinking cloud bank, the warships turned northward, and then abruptly went about and passed into the thickening haze of evening southward. The coast grew faint, and at last indistinguishable amid the low banks of clouds that were gathering about the sinking sun.

The little vessel continued to sail out to sea, while the ironclads slowly drew back toward the coast. A marbled bank of vapor still hid the coast. Part steam and part black gas, the vapor swirled and mingled in the strangest way. The fleet of refugees was scattering to the northeast. Several smacks were sailing between the ironclads and the steamboat. After a while, before reaching the sinking cloud bank, the warships turned north. Then they abruptly changed course and headed south into the thickening evening haze. The coast grew faint and finally disappeared among the low banks of clouds gathering around the setting sun.

Then suddenly out of the golden haze of the sunset came the vibration of guns, and a form of black shadows moving. Everyone struggled to the rail of the steamer and peered into the blinding furnace of the west, but nothing was to be distinguished clearly. A mass of smoke rose slanting and barred the face of the sun. The steamboat throbbed on its way through an interminable suspense.

Then suddenly, the vibration of gunfire came from the golden haze of the sunset, and a form of black shadows moved. Everyone pushed toward the steamer’s rail and stared into the blinding furnace of the western sky, but nothing could be seen clearly. A mass of smoke rose at an angle and obscured the sun. The steamboat throbbed onward through endless suspense.

The sun sank into grey clouds, the sky flushed and darkened, the evening star trembled into sight. It was deep twilight when the captain cried out and pointed. My brother strained his eyes. Something rushed up into the sky out of the greyness—rushed slantingly upward and very swiftly into the luminous clearness above the clouds in the western sky; something flat and broad, and very large, that swept round in a vast curve, grew smaller, sank slowly, and vanished again into the grey mystery of the night. And as it flew it rained down darkness upon the land.

The sun sank into grey clouds. The sky turned red and darkened, and the evening star shimmered into view. Twilight had deepened when the captain cried out and pointed. My brother strained to see. Something rushed out of the greyness and up into the sky. It rose at an angle, very swiftly, into the bright, clear air above the clouds in the western sky. It was flat, broad, and very large. It swept around in a vast curve, grew smaller, sank slowly, and vanished again into the grey mystery of the night. As it flew, it rained darkness down on the land.