"Well done, Mr. Graham! A splendid shot! He's doon! He's doon!" sang out Sandy at the top of his voice, evidently both pleased and comforted beyond measure, to see that these strange beings we had come amongst were not proof against earthly powder and ball.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
A STRANGE WORLD.
In the grey dawn of morning the weather began to clear; white fogs hung low over the densest parts of the swamp, but near the Sirius the mist lifted, and the leaden-looking sky was visible. We now climbed out on to the balcony, and though nearly surrounded with the giant reeds, we had a fairly good view of the range of snow-capped mountains which extended beyond the lake. With the break of day the tumultuous carnival of the wild beasts inhabiting the marsh came to an end, and their cries gradually ceased. Buried as we were, among the dense, marshy forest, we could not be absolutely certain, but so far as we could judge, the country seemed more open beyond the lake. We had evidently descended just on the outskirts of the swamp, which was apparently connected with the lake, and formed part of a vast plain extending to the mountains. The lowest of these we computed to be about twelve miles away. As we were thus doing our best to make out a little of the country round us, the distant mountain-tops became illumined with the rays of the rising sun. The snow upon their highest summits gleamed like burnished silver in the light, and as the morning broke, the clouds reflected a rosy radiance of rare beauty. The dawn on Mars was very similar to the dawn on Earth; and as we watched the sunlight leap from peak to peak, and the heavens change from one glorious hue to another, we could have fancied ourselves watching some of the many magnificent sunrises we had seen in the Alps, or on the lofty Himalayas.
It really appeared as though all the animal life of Mars was nocturnal; for, with the break of day, not a trace of a living creature could be seen or heard—all was silent as the grave. The wind had dropped, and not even the feathery crowns of the giant reeds moved; everything was still.
Our future movements were of such importance, that even Dr. Hermann restrained his eager curiosity to examine the strange beast Graham had shot, and which was lying dead somewhere outside the Sirius, and suggested that, as soon as we had breakfasted, we should consult together as to what was best to be done.
The meal was quickly over, none of us having much inclination to eat after the excitement of the previous night.
"It is now time that we began seriously to discuss our future movements," remarked the Doctor, rising from the table, and leading the way to the laboratory, whither we usually retired as soon as our meals were over. "There is much for us to consider and decide."
The sun was now well up in the heavens; the sky was blue and cloudless as on Earth; whilst two of the Martial moons could be seen pale and lustreless above us. Their rays were appreciably less powerful and brilliant. While the Doctor and Temple made notes and prepared for departure, Graham went down on to Mars, to search for his game; but he sought in vain. It had disappeared entirely. A few splashes of blood were to be seen on the sides of the Sirius, and a small pool of the same marked the spot where it had fallen. Some kind of creature, hunting in the swamp for prey, had carried it off, and we saw it no more. Graham's disappointment was only excelled by the Doctor's; but they consoled themselves by the thought that they would soon obtain other specimens as curious and as interesting. We were all of us eager to get away from the swamp, and as soon as Graham returned, the Doctor gave the order to start.