CHAPTER VI

The Iron Men from the Blue Star

Returning from Long Breath, I could not but notice the entire subsidence
of the terror, which had previously been so marked, and the general
signs of rejoicing which were now taking its place. It was easy to see
that I was an object of absorbing interest and busy comment. No one
pointed the finger at me, for that rude gesture was as unknown as it was
unnecessary. The mere turning of a great pair of eyes quickly in my
direction was an indication, significant enough, that I was being
denoted.

I now understood the more composed behaviour of the women. They were
accustomed to the idea of being taken in war, and never suffered
slaughter or hardship thereby, but merely a change of masters. As they
now left the Park they eyed me curiously, as if wondering from what sort
of new master they had escaped. I imagined I could detect some signs of
disappointment among them, at being cheated out of a trip to a new star
or being dismissed from the service of a god. Occasionally one of them
would incline her head gently to the right to meet her rising hand, in a
dignified salutation. I approached one of the fairest of these and
extended my hand. She seemed rather surprised, but calmly placed an iron
coin in my palm! Evidently I must make haste to learn the Kemish
salutation, or I would pass for a common beggar! My hand certainly did
look hard and brown, compared with her perfectly white and transparent
skin, through which the blood suffused the beautiful pink flush of life.
But even if a hotter sun had scorched and tanned my hand, it did not
look as dark and tough as the coin, although the soldiers had spread the
report that our flesh was of iron.

The chief business activity in the city seemed to be the transporting
from the surrounding country of an endless number of fibrous bags filled
with the bread-grain. I saw some of these bags open in the shops, and
the grain was shaped like wheat, but as large and less solid than a
coffee berry. Trains of asses bearing these bags were seen in every
street and entering by every gate. Each train of fifteen or twenty asses
was driven by a sandalled Martian, wearing the spread bird-wing which
seemed to denote the Pharaoh's service. The animals had the lazy,
sluggish, plodding habits which I expected, and in these respects their
driver differed very little from them. He gave an occasional long hiss,
followed by a jerky grunt, which sounded lik