It happened that the prince's air-yacht had been named after our Earth. She was called Lokris, which, as has been already made known, was the name by which the Martians knew our planet.
'She was built shortly after my father's return from his first visit to your world,' Alondra explained; 'and I felt so interested in all he had to tell me about it that I called her by that name.'
At times there were 'air-regattas,' at which races were arranged for various classes of airships and flying-machines. The prizes at these were valuable and were eagerly competed for, and the Lokris was frequently one of the competitors. In these contests the young prince showed himself a skilful and daring navigator of the air; and sometimes, when the two chums accompanied him, they had some exciting experiences, as the competing yachts whirled along, often neck and neck, at almost incredible speed. At such times it was often the most venturesome—almost, one might say, the most reckless—who came in winners.
Alondra was delighted to discover that in his two visitors he had gained sailing companions after his own heart. He took special pains to teach them to assist him in the handling of the yacht, and they soon grew expert. Then the two sailors were instructed, and took the place of the former crew; and the five became celebrated for their skilful and fearless manoeuvring and for the number of races they won.
Tom Clinch and Bob Reid entered into the spirit of the thing with great gusto, and soon proved themselves as clever in the air as ever they had been in the handling of sailing-boats on the water at home. And when the prizes began to come in—half of which Alondra allotted to them, the other half being distributed in charity—their satisfaction and delight may well be imagined.
It should be explained that these Earth-born assistants gained a considerable advantage from the fact, which has already been noted, that their muscles were stronger comparatively than those of the natives. Thus the four on board the Lokris could do the work of nearly double the number of Martians—and as in this kind of racing the work was often heavy, and required considerable physical exertion, the saving in weight effected by carrying a smaller crew made an important difference.
But the great sport of the Martians, it presently appeared, was eagle-hunting. A species of eagle, very much larger than any on Earth, had their eyries amongst some mountain peaks in a wild district some distance away. In regard to size, the visitors found that birds were larger on the average, while some animals were often smaller, than those species on our earth which correspond to them. Certainly these eagles—known by the name of krondos—were gigantic birds, swift and very high flyers, and terribly savage, powerful creatures when attacked.
Doubtless they would have been exterminated long ago but for the fact that they had been expressly preserved for the purposes of sport, just as foxes are in England.
Packs of smaller tame eagles, of a different breed, were trained to hunt them. Assisted by these, a party of Martian nobles would sally forth in their air-yachts and chase the formidable giant eagles from peak to peak, following them in their circling flights into the upper air or their dizzy downward swoops, until some expert hunter-aeronaut contrived to throw a net over the quarry and capture it alive.
That was, briefly, the general procedure, Monck explained; but, as he further remarked, it did not always come off as per programme. Sometimes the krondos assumed the offensive against the hunters; and cases had been even known of their dragging men out of the airships and carrying them off, or dashing them down upon the rocks below.