Zarlah the Martian | Page 5

which seemed to be
flooded with bright daylight, though I could not see any windows on three sides of the
room to admit the light, nor any shadows to indicate that the light came from a window in
the fourth. He held in his hands an instrument unknown to me, and seemed to be perfectly
at his ease, showing neither surprise nor curiosity. Evidently this was not the first time
that he had seen an inhabitant of the Earth. So unconcerned was he and so natural did he
appear, even in the smallest detail of dress, that it was hard to believe I was not looking at

an image of some room and its occupant in Paris. His close-fitting clothes seemed to be
of a dark green material, and resembled, to some degree, the uniform of an army officer.
Bending over the instrument he held, he placed his mouth close to the top of it, and
immediately the humming sounds, which I had noticed before, emanated from the wires
of my apparatus. The thought flashed through my mind that the Martian held in this
instrument a means of communicating sound. If so, what were the words--what language?
The possibility of what I heard being words, made me strain every nerve to catch the
slightest resemblance to such sounds, but alas, with no success. That they were intended
to convey a message, I became fully convinced, but I could not rest in the belief that this
jumble of sounds was the Martian language. If the Martians themselves resembled, in so
striking a degree, the inhabitants of Earth, I argued, then it was in the nature of things to
expect a language that, in some way, corresponded to one of our languages. The fault lay
in my instrument, I was sure of that, and in the keen disappointment of my failure to
receive his message and the excitement of the moment, I gave utterance to an
exclamation of despair. Immediately a smile overspread the Martian's countenance, and,
to my great astonishment, he put down the instrument and clapped his hands by way of
showing his approval.
Before I could recover from my surprise at this new evidence of Martian familiarity with
the customs of Earth, the light suddenly grew dim and in a few seconds had disappeared
completely, leaving the instrument plunged in darkness. Mars had risen above the frame
of the skylight, and I was no longer in contact with the light-waves. I listened intently,
thinking that if the sound-waves were of the nature of the electrical-waves we employ in
the wireless system, I would still be in touch with my newly found friend, but I heard no
further sound from the instrument, thus proving that these waves also were projected by
the mysterious agent known only to the Martians.
I had so much to occupy my mind, with what I had just witnessed, and so many thoughts
rushed in upon me regarding the perfecting of my instrument so that it might properly
respond to the sound-waves, that I did not experience the disappointment I had felt before
at the short duration of our contact with each other. I was glad of the opportunity to think;
I felt that it was necessary to do so before further action, if I ever hoped to attain the
knowledge of Mars and its inhabitants that my remarkable discovery had placed within
my reach. I determined that on the morrow, if I did not meet with better results in the
sound vibrations, I would try to communicate with the Martian by writing some simple
sentence in a bold hand, and in as many languages as I could. This I would expose in
front of the instrument, but I placed little hope in the success of the scheme, for it was not
possible that the Martian language would be identical with any of ours.
CHAPTER III.
THE VOICE FROM ANOTHER WORLD
This thought of communicating with the Martian by writing, did not deter me from using
every effort to perfect my instrument, so that this might be done verbally, or that at least I
might hear a voice and a language spoken on a world millions of miles away.

Accordingly I gave the subject of sound-waves my best thought, and the next morning I
had formulated clearly laid principles upon which to work. By these I hoped to make an
instrument that would be the means of conversing with a Martian.
I had come to the conclusion that the jumble of sound was caused by the prolonged
vibration of the wires after each distinct wave from Mars was received, as the wires of a
piano will vibrate long after they have been touched. With light-waves it was necessary
to have a highly sensitive surface of the composition, capable