as to allow of the
interchange of ordinary ideas with our prisoner, and there was no longer
any doubt that he would be able to give us much information when we
landed on his native planet.

At the end of twenty-three days as measured by terrestrial time, since
our departure from the asteroid, we arrived in the sky of Mars.

For a long time the ruddy planet had been growing larger and more
formidable, gradually turning from a huge star into a great red moon,
and then expanding more and more until it began to shut out from sight
the constellations behind it. The curious markings on its surface, which
from the earth can only be dimly glimpsed with a powerful telescope,
began to reveal themselves clearly to our naked eyes.

I have related how even before we had reached the asteroid, Mars began
to present a most imposing appearance as we saw it with our telescopes.
Now, however, that it was close at hand, the naked eye view of the
planet was more wonderful than anything we had been able to see with
telescopes when at a greater distance.

We were approaching the southern hemisphere of Mars in about latitude 45
degrees south. It was near the time of the vernal equinox in that
hemisphere of the planet, and under the stimulating influence of the
spring sun, rising higher and higher every day, some such awakening of
life and activity upon its surface as occurs on the earth under similar
circumstances was evidently going on.

Around the South Pole were spread immense fields of snow and ice,
gleaming with great brilliance. Cutting deep into the borders of these
ice-fields, we could see broad channels of open water, indicating the
rapid breaking of the grip of the frost.

Almost directly beneath us was a broad oval region, light red in color,
to which terrestrial astronomers had given the name of Hellas. Toward
the south, between Hellas and the borders of the polar ice, was a great
belt of darkness that astronomers had always been inclined to regard as
a sea. Looking toward the north, we could perceive the immense red
expanses of the continent of Mars, with the long curved line of the
Syrtis Major, or "The Hour-glass Sea," sweeping through the midst of
them toward the north until it disappeared under the horizon.

Crossing and recrossing the red continent, in every direction, were the
canals of Schiaparelli.

Plentifully sprinkled over the surface we could see brilliant points,
some of dazzling brightness, outshining the da