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what the speed gage there

indicates.” Jack hurried off, and soon returned.

 

“We’re heading right for Mars, as indicated on the chart,” he

said, for there was an arrangement whereby the projectile could

be automatically steered.

 

“What speed does the gage there show?” asked the German

scientist.

 

“Two hundred miles a second.”

 

“The same as here,” murmured Mr. Roumann. “I wonder what can

cause it?”

 

He leaned over the motor, and made some calculations. Then he

exclaimed:

 

“I have it!”

 

“What is the reason?” inquired the professor.

 

“It is because we are speeding through an atmosphere much less

dense than that of our earth. There the motor would only work at

a certain speed. Here, in the atmosphere of Mars, it goes more

than twice as fast, because there is less resistance.”

 

“Is that good or bad?” asked Jack.

 

“Good. We shall reach the planet all the sooner now. Boys, get

ready to land on Mars in a few hours!”

 

The news was startling in itself, but so many strange things had

happened on the trip that this only produced a momentary

impression.

 

“Yo’ say dat we am shortly goin’ t’ promulgate eurseves inter

conjunctionary juxtaposition wid de exterior circumference an’

surface ob de planetary sphere commonly called Mars?” asked

Washington White.

 

“If you mean whether or not we are near Mars, why, we are,”

answered Jack with a laugh. “But, Wash, if you use such language

as that I don’t know what the Martians will think of you.”

 

“I knows,” answered the colored man with great dignity. “Dey’ll

take me fo’ jest what I am—a mostest profundity educationalized

specimen ob de human fambly. But I’se glad we’s so neah Mars.”

 

“Why? Are you tired of being cooped up here?” asked Mark.

 

“Not prexactly, but mah Shanghai rooster am. He’s dat lonesome

dat’s he’s homesick for t’ git out an’ do a bit ob scratchin’ on

de ground.”

 

“Look out that he doesn’t fly away when he gets on Mars,”

cautioned Jack. “Things there are twice as light as they are on

the earth, and he’ll only weigh a pound or so, instead of two or

three.”

 

Washington grunted, but said nothing. He served a meal, probably

the last one that would be eaten before their arrival.

 

“We have been just twelve days, so far, on our journey,” declared

Mr. Roumann. “That is a little longer than I calculated, but it

was due to unexpected troubles.”

 

“Well, we’ve been very comfortable here,” commented Mr.

Henderson.

 

And indeed they had. Except for the rather cramped quarters, and

the absence of scenery, they had lived as well as they could have

done at home. They had plenty to eat and drink during their

marvelous trip through space, they had enjoyed the reading of

books, had listened to fine music, and had been traveling in

perpetual sunlight.

 

What was before them? Every one asked himself that question.

 

On and on the projectile sped. Mr. Roumann, who had taken charge

of the steering wheel called the attention of the boys to a

small, dark object off to the right.

 

“What is it?” asked Jack. “It looks like a bright ball of fire.”

 

“One of the moons of Mars,” was the answer. “That is Deimos, and

we are now but ten thousand miles from the planet, for that is

the moon distance from Mars.”

 

“How small it is!” commented Mark.

 

“Yes, it isn’t much like our moon, but I suppose it answers for

the Martians.”

 

“But if we’re only ten thousand miles away from Mars, and are

traveling at two hundred miles a second, we’ll be there in less

than a minute!” cried Jack.

 

“We would, only I have shut down the motor. We are now

approaching only from the force of the attraction of gravitation,

and that, I find, is much less than on our earth. At the proper

time I will reverse the motor, to make our landing easy.”

 

The indicators showed that the Annihilator was now traveling

along at about the rate of a fast automobile.

 

“We’re almost there!” cried Mark.

 

Mr. Roumann adjusted the machinery. Sometimes he speeded it up,

and again he slowed it down. He found he had the projectile

under perfect control. Once again he set the motor in motion,

approaching Mars at a fast rate.

 

They shot past another shining body.

 

“The second moon!” he called to the boys. “We are but sixteen

hundred miles away now.”

 

“Get ready to land!” cried Jack. “All ashore that’s going

ashore!”

 

“Maybe we’ll land in the water,” spoke Mark.

 

“No, I can so regulate the projectile that such a thing won’t

happen,” declared Mr. Roumann.

 

“I will send it ahead for a few seconds, and then see what

happens.”

 

They sped forward. Suddenly there loomed up before them a great

mass. It seemed to be rushing to meet them. It looked something

like the earth, as seen from a balloon at a great height.

 

“Mars!” cried Mr. Roumann. “There is the planet we aimed for!

Mars at last!”

 

He reversed the motor. The motion of the projectile became less.

Nearer and nearer it approached the wonderful planet on which all

their thoughts were centered.

 

“But it isn’t red!” objected Jack.

 

“Wait until night,” said the German. “We are approaching it from

the daylight side.”

 

“Am we goin’ t’ ram it hard?” asked Washington.

 

“I trust not,” was Mr. Roumann’s reply.

 

He reversed the atmospheric motor still more. They were so near

the planet now that they could distinguish land and water, great

buildings, patches of woodland and open spaces.

 

“There are people there! I see people!” cried Jack.

 

Indeed, there did seem to be a mass of beings looking up at the

approaching projectile.

 

Very gently the Annihilator came nearer and nearer. There was no

doubt now but that Mars was inhabited—but by what a strange

race! Before those in the projectile had time to wonder at the

inhabitants, they felt a sudden jar. The Annihilator came to

rest. It had landed in a soft bed of sand.

 

“Welcome to Mars!” cried Mr. Roumann, opening a door in the side

of the craft and stepping out, followed by his companions. They

were at once surrounded by a throng of the queerest people that

they had ever imagined.

 

A great shout arose, and as the adventurers stood in a group near

their craft, they suddenly found themselves being moved forward

toward the crowd by some strange, mysterious force.

CHAPTER XXII

QUEER PEOPLE

 

“Hear! Hold on! Quit shovin’ me!” cried Washington White.

“Stop, Massa Jack!”

 

“I’m not pushing you,” replied the boy, who, with the others, was

being moved forward against his will. “I can’t seem to stop!”

 

Nor could the rest of them. It was just as if some one had

commanded them to walk forward toward the crowd that stood

waiting for them, and they could no more avoid obeying than they

could had they been pulled by wire cables.

 

“What can it be?” murmured Mr. Roumann. “Hold back, all of you.

They must have attached invisible wires to us, and are going to

make prisoners of us!”

 

“There are no wires on me,” observed Mark, carefully feeling

about him.

 

“Nor me, either,” added Jack.

 

“I’ll soon make ‘em stop!” exclaimed Andy Sudds, and raising his

gun to his shoulder, he fired over the heads of the Martians,

intending to frighten them.

 

To the surprise of the adventurers the gun only made a faint

sound, about half as loud as it usually did, and they saw

something small and black pop out of the muzzle, and sail lazily

through the air for a short distance, then fall.

 

“Would you look at that!” exclaimed the hunter in great disgust.

“Look how my bullet flew! First time I ever saw a bullet come

from a gun! We’re in a strange land, friends!”

 

“I have it!” cried Professor Henderson. “The attraction of

gravitation on Mars is a third of that on the earth. The

atmosphere is also less dense. Your gun only makes half the

noise, Andy, and the bullet doesn’t go nearly as fast, nor with

nearly so much force. That’s why you could see the bullet. It

went very slowly. Your gun is of no use here.”

 

“And is that what makes us move?” asked Jack. “Because we’re so

light?”

 

For they continued to advance toward the crowd, which seemed to

be anxiously awaiting them.

 

“That’s partly the reason, I guess,” replied the professor. “The

other part is that they are exerting some strange force upon us.

We’ll find out later what it is.”

 

“I wish dey’d let me be!” exclaimed Washington, vainly struggling

to hold himself back.

 

“What queer people!” exclaimed Jack. “Look at what large heads

they have!”

 

“And what small bodies!” added Mark.

 

It was indeed so. They found Mars, at least the portion where

they had landed, to be inhabited with a strange race of beings.

 

There were men and boys and a few women in the crowd, but they

were unlike any men, boys or women they had ever seen. Their

heads were about three times as large as those of the ordinary

person, and the eyes, ears and nose were of extraordinary size.

Indeed, the eyes bulged out in quite an unpleasant fashion, and

the ears of the Martians were not unlike those of an elephant in

proportion, though they were shaped more like those of a human

being. As for a Martian nose, it was elongated, and capable of

being moved in any direction, as were also the ears.

 

As the adventurers felt themselves being urged forward, by what

means they knew not, they noted that the Martians were staring at

them with their great, protruding eyes, that they were listening

to their talk with their great ears thrust forward, and were

lifting their flexible noses toward the travelers as if to get

wind of them, as wild beasts do.

 

“They’re certainly sizing us up in great shape,” observed Jack.

“But whatever kind of clothes have they got on?”

 

Well might he ask, for the Martians seemed to be covered with a

combination of fur and feathers. They wore no garments that

could be put on or taken off, but seemed to be provided by either

Nature or skill with suits that were a part of themselves. Men,

women and children were all attired alike.

 

Suddenly the travelers felt themselves come to a stop. A murmur

arose from the crowd, and from the midst of the assemblage there

stepped forth a man, who seemed to be a sort of leader. On his

head was a golden band, and attached to it was a small,

glittering triangle. He approached quite close to the little

party, and the boys noticed that he seemed to float along, rather

than to walk, and that his progress was very swift. He looked

searchingly at the strangers with his big eyes, and then

addressed them in a queer language. By the tones of his voice it

was easily guessed that he was asking them questions, and it did

not take much of an imagination to guess that he was inquiring

whence they came, how they had arrived, and what they wanted.

 

“I can’t understand his language,” remarked Mr. Henderson,

turning to his friends. “Can any of you?”

 

They all shook their heads.

 

“Let me try him in German,” suggested Mr. Roumann, and he gave a

brief explanation, in that language, of their trip from the

earth. The man with the glittering

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