The nearer moon, hurtling suddenly above the horizon and lighting up the Barsoomian scene, showed me.
Then, with the maul, after repeatedly smiting the upper end of this iron rod, he placed the blunted needle endwise on the top of it.
I and my wife stood amazed. Then I realised that the crest of Maybury Hill must be within range of the Martians. We can’t possibly stay here, I said; and as I spoke the firing reopened for a moment upon the common.
I can compare it to nothing but a large door mat, ornamented at the edges with little tinkling tags.
