Black Rock Creek
: The Master Of The WorldHuman nature is prone to illusions. Of course, there had been all
along a probability that the "Terror" had deserted the locality, even
admitting that it was she Wells had seen the previous day. If some
damage to her triple system of locomotion had prevented her from
regaining either by land or by water her usual hiding-place, and
obliged her to seek refuge in Black Rock Creek, what ought we to
conclude now upon findin
finished her repairs, she had continued on her way, and was already
far beyond the waters of Lake Erie.
But probable as this result had been from the first, we had more and
more ignored it as our trip proceeded. We had come to accept as a
fact that we should meet the "Terror," that we should find her
anchored at the base of the rocks where Wells had seen her.
And now what disappointment! I might even say, what despair! All our
efforts gone for nothing! Even if the "Terror" was still upon the
lake, to find her, reach her and capture her, was beyond our power,
and it might as well be fully recognized beyond all human power.
We stood there, Wells and I, completely crushed, while John Hart and
Nab Walker, no less chagrined, went tramping along the banks of the
Creek, seeking any trace that had been left behind.
Posted there, at the mouth of the Creek, Wells and I exchanged
scarcely a word. What need was there of words to enable us to
understand each other! After our eagerness and our despair, we were
now exhausted. Defeated in our well-planned attempt, we felt as
unwilling to abandon our campaign, as we were unable to continue it.
Nearly an hour slipped by. We could not resolve to leave the place.
Our eyes still sought to pierce the night. Sometimes a glimmer, due
to the sparkle of the waters, trembled on the surface of the lake.
Then it vanished, and with it the foolish hope that it had roused.
Sometimes again, we thought we saw a shadow outlined against the
dark, the silhouette of an approaching boat. Yet again some eddies
would swirl up at our feet, as if the Creek had been stirred within
its depths. These vain imaginings were dissipated one after the
other. They were but the illusions raised by our strained fancies.
At length our companions rejoined us. My first question was, "Nothing
new?"
"Nothing," said John Hart.
"You have explored both banks of the Creek?"
"Yes," responded Nab Walker, "as far as the shallow water above; and
we have not seen even a vestige of the things which Mr. Wells saw
laid on the shore."
"Let us wait awhile," said I, unable to resolve upon a return to the
woods.
At that moment our attention was caught by a sudden agitation of the
waters, which swelled upward at the foot of the rocks.
"It is like the swell from a vessel," said Wells.
"Yes," said I, instinctively lowering my voice. "What has caused it?
The wind has completely died out. Does it come from something on the
surface of the lake?"
"Or from something underneath," said Wells, bending forward, the
better to determine.
The commotion certainly seemed as if caused by some boat, whether
from beneath the water, or approaching the creek from outside upon
the lake.
Silent, motionless, we strained eyes and ears to pierce the profound
obscurity. The faint noise of the waves of the lake lapping on the
shore beyond the creek, came to us distinctly through the night. John
Hart and Nab Walker drew a little aside upon a higher ridge of rocks.
As for me, I leaned close to the water to watch the agitation. It did
not lessen. On the contrary it became momentarily more evident, and
I began to distinguish a sort of regular throbbing, like that
produced by a screw in motion.
"There is no doubt," declared Wells, leaning close to me, "there is a
boat coming toward us."
"There certainly is," responded I, "unless they have whales or sharks
in Lake Erie."
"No, it is a boat," repeated Wells. "Is she headed toward the mouth
of the creek, or is she going further up it?"
"This is just where you saw the boat twice before?"
"Yes, just here."
"Then if this is the same one, and it can be no other, she will
probably return to the same spot."
"There!" whispered Wells, extending his hand toward the entrance of
the creek.
Our companions rejoined us, and all four, crouching low upon the
bank, peered in the direction he pointed.
We vaguely distinguished a black mass moving through the darkness. It
advanced very slowly and was still outside the creek, upon the lake,
perhaps a cable's length to the northeast. We could scarcely hear
even now the faint throbbing of its engines. Perhaps they had stopped
and the boat was only gliding forward under their previous impulse.
It seemed, then, that this was indeed the submarine which Wells had
watched, and it was returning to pass this night, like the last,
within the shelter of the creek.
Why had it left the anchorage, if only to return? Had it suffered
some new disaster, which again impaired its power? Or had it been
before compelled to leave, with its repairs still unfinished? What
cause constrained it to return here? Was there some imperious reason
why it could no longer be turned into an automobile, and go darting
away across the roads of Ohio?
To all these questions which came crowding upon me, I could give no
answer. Furthermore both Wells and I kept reasoning under the
assumption that this was really the "Terror" commanded by the "Master
of the World" who had dated from it his letter of defiance to the
government. Yet this premise was still unproven, no matter how
confident we might feel of it.
Whatever boat this was, that stole so softly through the night, it
continued to approach us. Assuredly its captain must know perfectly
the channels and shores of Black Rock Creek, since he ventured here
in such darkness. Not a light showed upon the deck. Not a single ray
from within the cabin glimmered through any crevice.
A moment later, we heard some machinery moving very softly. The swell
of the eddies grew stronger, and in a few moments the boat touched
the quay.
This word "quay," only used in that region, exactly describes the
spot. The rocks at our feet formed a level, five or six feet above
the water, and descending to it perpendicularly, exactly like a
landing wharf.
"We must not stop here," whispered Wells, seizing me by the arm.
"No," I answered, "they might see us. We must lie crouched upon the
beach! Or we might hide in some crevice of the rocks."
"We will follow you."
There was not a moment to lose. The dark mass was now close at hand,
and on its deck, but slightly raised above the surface of the water,
we could trace the silhouettes of two men.
Were there, then, really only two on board?
We stole softly back to where the ravines rose toward the woods
above. Several niches in the rocks were at hand. Wells and I crouched
down in one, my two assistants in another. If the men on the "Terror"
landed, they could not see us; but we could see them, and would be
able to act as opportunity offered.
There were some slight noises from the boat, a few words exchanged in
our own language. It was evident that the vessel was preparing to
anchor. Then almost instantly, a rope was thrown out, exactly on the
point of the quay where we had stood.
Leaning forward, Wells could discern that the rope was seized by one
of the mariners, who had leaped ashore. Then we heard a
grappling-iron scrape along the ground.
Some moments later, steps crunched upon the sand. Two men came up the
ravine, and went onward toward the edge of the woods, guiding their
steps by a ship lantern.
Where were they going? Was Black Rock Creek a regular hiding place of
the "Terror?" Had her commander a depot here for stores or
provisions? Did they come here to restock their craft, when the whim
of their wild voyaging brought them to this part of the continent?
Did they know this deserted, uninhabited spot so well, that they had
no fear of ever being discovered here?
"What shall we do?" whispered Wells.
"Wait till they return, and then--" My words were cut short by a
surprise. The men were not thirty feet from us, when, one of them
chancing to turn suddenly, the light of their lantern fell full upon
his face.
He was one of the two men who had watched before my house in Long
Street! I could not be mistaken! I recognized him as positively as my
old servant had done. It was he; it was assuredly one of the spies of
whom I had never been able to find any further traces! There was no
longer any doubt, my warning letter had come from them. It was
therefore from the "Master of the World"; it had been written from
the "Terror" and this was the "Terror." Once more I asked myself what
could be the connection between this machine and the Great Eyrie!
In whispered words, I told Wells of my discovery. His only comment
was, "It is all incomprehensible!"
Meanwhile the two men had continued on their way to the woods, and
were gathering sticks beneath the trees. "What if they discover our
encampment?" murmured Wells.
"No danger, if they do not go beyond the nearest trees."
"But if they do discover it?"
"They will hurry back to their boat, and we shall be able to cut off
their retreat."
Toward the creek, where their craft lay, there was no further sound.
I left my hiding-place; I descended the ravine to the quay; I stood
on the very spot where the grappling-iron was fast among the rocks.
The "Terror" lay there, quiet at the end of its cable. Not a light
was on board; not a person visible, either on the deck, or on the
bank. Was not this my opportunity? Should I leap on board and there
await the return of the two men?
"Mr. Strock!" It was Wells, who called to me softly from close at
hand.
I drew back in all haste and crouched down beside him. Was it too
late to take possession of the boat? Or would the attempt perhaps
result in disaster from the presence of others watching on board?
At any rate, the two men with the lantern were close at hand
returning down the ravine. Plainly they suspected nothing. Each
carrying a bundle of wood, they came forward and stopped upon the
quay.
Then one of them raised his voice, though not loudly. "Hullo!
Captain!"
"All right," answered a voice from the boat.
Wells murmured in my ear, "There are three!"
"Perhaps four," I answered, "perhaps five or six!"
The situation grew more complicated. Against a crew so numerous, what
ought we to do? The least imprudence might cost us dear! Now that the
two men had returned, would they re-embark with their faggots? Then
would the boat leave the creek, or would it remain anchored until
day? If it withdrew, would it not be lost to us? It could leave the
waters of Lake Erie, and cross any of the neighboring states by land;
or it could retrace its road by the Detroit River which would lead it
to Lake Huron and the Great Lakes above. Would such an opportunity as
this, in the narrow waters of Black Rock Creek, ever occur again!
"At least," said I to Wells, "we are four. They do not expect attack;
they will be surprised. The result is in the hands of Providence."
I was about to call our two men, when Wells again seized my arm.
"Listen!" said he.
One of the men hailed the boat, and it drew close up to the rocks. We
heard the Captain say to the two men ashore, "Everything is all
right, up there?"
"Everything, Captain."
"There are still two bundles of wood left there?"
"Two."
"Then one more trip will bring them all on board the 'Terror.'"
The "Terror!" It WAS she!
"Yes; just one more trip," answered one of the men.
"Good; then we will start off again at daybreak."
Were there then but three of them on board? The Captain, this Master
of the World, and these two men?
Evidently they planned to take aboard the last of their wood. Then
they would withdraw within their machine, and go to sleep. Would not
that be the time to surprise them, before they could defend
themselves?
Rather than to attempt to reach and capture the ship in face of this
resolute Captain who was guarding it, Wells and I agreed that it was
better to let his men return unassailed, and wait till they were all
asleep.
It was now half an hour after ten. Steps were once more heard upon
the shore. The man with a lantern and his companion, again remounted
the ravine toward the woods. When they were safely beyond hearing,
Wells went to warn our men, while I stole forward again to the very
edge of the water.
The "Terror" lay at the end of a short cable. As well as I could
judge, she was long and slim, shaped like a spindle, without chimney,
without masts, without rigging, such a shape as had been described
when she was seen on the coast of New England.
I returned to my place, with my men in the shelter of the ravine; and
we looked to our revolvers, which might well prove of service.
Five minutes had passed since the men reached the woods, and we
expected their return at any moment. After that, we must wait at
least an hour before we made our attack; so that both the Captain and
his comrades might be deep in sleep. It was important that they
should have not a moment either to send their craft darting out upon
the waters of Lake Erie, or to plunge it beneath the waves where we
would have been entrapped with it.
In all my career I have never felt such impatience. It seemed to me
that the two men must have been detained in the woods. Something had
barred their return.
Suddenly a loud noise was heard, the tumult of run-away horses,
galloping furiously along the shore!
They were our own, which, frightened, and perhaps neglected by the
driver, had broken away from the clearing, and now came rushing along
the bank.
At the same moment, the two men reappeared, and this time they were
running with all speed. Doubtless they had discovered our encampment,
and had at once suspected that there were police hidden in the woods.
They realized that they were watched, they were followed, they would
be seized. So they dashed recklessly down the ravine, and after
loosening the cable, they would doubtless endeavor to leap aboard.
The "Terror" would disappear with the speed of a meteor, and our
attempt would be wholly defeated!
"Forward," I cried. And we scrambled down the sides of the ravine to
cut off the retreat of the two men.
They saw us and, on the instant, throwing down their bundles, fired
at us with revolvers, hitting John Hart in the leg.
We fired in our turn, but less successfully. The men neither fell nor
faltered in their course. Reaching the edge of the creek, without
stopping to unloose the cable, they plunged overboard, and in a
moment were clinging to the deck of the "Terror."
Their captain, springing forward, revolver in hand, fired. The ball
grazed Wells.
Nab Walker and I seizing the cable, pulled the black mass of the boat
toward shore. Could they cut the rope in time to escape us ?
Suddenly the grappling-iron was torn violently from the rocks. One of
its hooks caught in my belt, while Walker was knocked down by the
flying cable. I was entangled by the iron and the rope and dragged
forward --
The "Terror," driven by all the power of her engines, made a single
bound and darted out across Black Rock Creek.
More
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Mars is really an ideal world for an astronomer to live in, its skies being so clear, the air so thin and pure, and the stars shining so brilliantly. Besides these advantages, the rapid movements of the two satellites of the planet resul... Center
Late July 2571 As Cortin recovered and the pain in her body eased to what Egan assured her was the best she could expect without further surgery, the burns on her hands took top priority, as she'd expected, on her list of personal grievance... Cerebrum
For thousands of years the big brain served as a master switchboard for the thoughts and emotions of humanity. Now the central mind was showing signs of decay ... and men w... Certain First Principles
"What's the matter?" asked Kemp, when the Invisible Man admitted him. "Nothing," was the answer. "But, confound it! The smash?" "Fit of temper," said the Invisible Man. "Forgot this arm; and it's sore." "You're rather liable to that sort... Chained In Warhoon
It must have been several hours before I regained consciousness and I well remember the feeling of surprise which swept over me as I realized that I was not dead. I was lying among a pile of sleeping silks and furs in the corner of a small room... Challenges
After the guests had gone, father threw himself into a chair and gave vent to roars of Gargantuan laughter. Not since the death of my mother had I known him to laugh so heartily. "I'll wager Dr. Hammerfield was never up against anything like it ... Champion And Chief
Early the next morning I was astir. Considerable freedom was allowed me, as Sola had informed me that so long as I did not attempt to leave the city I was free to go and come as I pleased. She had warned me, however, against venturing forth unar... Child-raising On Mars
After a breakfast, which was an exact replica of the meal of the preceding day and an index of practically every meal which followed while I was with the green men of Mars, Sola escorted me to the plaza, where I found the entire community engaged ... Chuck
Nobody had thought to brief them on the welcoming ceremonies at the airport, but Bradford had mentioned her team acting as bodyguards, so when it was their turn to leave the plane, Odeon took point and the other four formed a square around Corti...