like headlights, both in shape, and from the fact that they cast their own rays before them.
The first three of these strange beings carried long pipes slightly curved at the upper ends. The lower ends were attached to flexible tubes greatly resembling conduit, which trailed down the stairway. The fourth held a straight cylinder about three inches in diameter and four feet in length.
The first three individuals were exceedingly busy. In fact they seemed to be the sole structural workers on the stupendous metal shaft that was swiftly rising from the bowels of the earth. The metal globes which were rolling up the stairway were of three sizes, and appeared to be living creatures, for when they reached the ends of their respective lines, all sprouted the queer tentacle-like arms and legs of the four larger creatures, and projected globular heads from their round interiors. Then those of the largest size sprang up, one by one, to the top of the unfinished wall, where they retracted their heads and limbs and rolled closely together.
AS soon as each new globe was in position, the foremost of the three large workers cemented it in place with a stream of gleaming liquid resembling quicksilver, that poured from the tube he carried, and filled in the interstices until a glistening, pebble-grained wall resulted.
The rolling globes of the middle size leaped from the end of their line to make the stairway in the same manner, cemented in place by the second tube-bearer, while those of the smallest size formed the railing and its supporting bars, and were fused into place by the third large worker.
I was dumbfounded. The idea of a race of metal beings building a structure with their own bodies, cheerfully and willingly, was almost unthinkable for me. It was something quite beyond my point of view. But then, a coral polyp’s viewpoint as it fuses its body in with millions of others to form an atoll of a reef is also far from the understanding of individualistic men.
“Haven’t seen a banshee, have you, chief ?” asked Pat. who had noticed my startled expression.
“Take a look for yourself,” I responded. “I want to know if you can see what I see.”
Focusing his own binoculars he looked, then exclaimed: “Holy smokes! And I thought all the fairies were in Ireland! It’s the Little People, sure as my name’s Pat Higgins!”
I was looking at the fourth of the larger individuals, the one that carried the tube, wondering what his function was. Suddenly, as if attracted by the intensity of my gaze, he flashed his great goggle eyes upward. For an instant he gazed at the electroplane. Then he pointed his cylinder upward, and there was a crash of broken glass as a projectile struck the floor window.
As we were without weapons, I shouted an order to Reeves:
“Ascend! Full speed!”
“Sure, that one must have been a guard,” said Pat, shutting off his clicking cameras. “Wonder what that was he fired at us.”
The floor lurched as our craft shot swiftly upward. Something rolled against my foot. It was a shiny metal globe about two inches in diameter—evidently the missile which had been fired from the cylinder.
“Here it is, Pat,” I said, and picked it up.
But scarcely had I done so, when it shot out segmented, tentacle-like arms and legs, and- a head that was a tiny, goggle-eyed miniature of the creature which had fired it. One of the metal tentacles whipped down on the back of my hand with a stinging blow, so startling me that I dropped the thing. It instantly scurried for the broken floor window, but Pat with a “No you don’t!” scooped it up in his empty binocular case and fastened down the lid.
“My grandfather once caught a fairy,” said Pat, “and devil a bit of good luck did he have after that. It brought him to an early grave in his ninety-seventh year.”
We emerged into the light of day, and Pat shut off his lights.
“Back to Leon,” I ordered, and Reeves started the three propellers roaring as he
The first three of these strange beings carried long pipes slightly curved at the upper ends. The lower ends were attached to flexible tubes greatly resembling conduit, which trailed down the stairway. The fourth held a straight cylinder about three inches in diameter and four feet in length.
The first three individuals were exceedingly busy. In fact they seemed to be the sole structural workers on the stupendous metal shaft that was swiftly rising from the bowels of the earth. The metal globes which were rolling up the stairway were of three sizes, and appeared to be living creatures, for when they reached the ends of their respective lines, all sprouted the queer tentacle-like arms and legs of the four larger creatures, and projected globular heads from their round interiors. Then those of the largest size sprang up, one by one, to the top of the unfinished wall, where they retracted their heads and limbs and rolled closely together.
AS soon as each new globe was in position, the foremost of the three large workers cemented it in place with a stream of gleaming liquid resembling quicksilver, that poured from the tube he carried, and filled in the interstices until a glistening, pebble-grained wall resulted.
The rolling globes of the middle size leaped from the end of their line to make the stairway in the same manner, cemented in place by the second tube-bearer, while those of the smallest size formed the railing and its supporting bars, and were fused into place by the third large worker.
I was dumbfounded. The idea of a race of metal beings building a structure with their own bodies, cheerfully and willingly, was almost unthinkable for me. It was something quite beyond my point of view. But then, a coral polyp’s viewpoint as it fuses its body in with millions of others to form an atoll of a reef is also far from the understanding of individualistic men.
“Haven’t seen a banshee, have you, chief ?” asked Pat. who had noticed my startled expression.
“Take a look for yourself,” I responded. “I want to know if you can see what I see.”
Focusing his own binoculars he looked, then exclaimed: “Holy smokes! And I thought all the fairies were in Ireland! It’s the Little People, sure as my name’s Pat Higgins!”
I was looking at the fourth of the larger individuals, the one that carried the tube, wondering what his function was. Suddenly, as if attracted by the intensity of my gaze, he flashed his great goggle eyes upward. For an instant he gazed at the electroplane. Then he pointed his cylinder upward, and there was a crash of broken glass as a projectile struck the floor window.
As we were without weapons, I shouted an order to Reeves:
“Ascend! Full speed!”
“Sure, that one must have been a guard,” said Pat, shutting off his clicking cameras. “Wonder what that was he fired at us.”
The floor lurched as our craft shot swiftly upward. Something rolled against my foot. It was a shiny metal globe about two inches in diameter—evidently the missile which had been fired from the cylinder.
“Here it is, Pat,” I said, and picked it up.
But scarcely had I done so, when it shot out segmented, tentacle-like arms and legs, and- a head that was a tiny, goggle-eyed miniature of the creature which had fired it. One of the metal tentacles whipped down on the back of my hand with a stinging blow, so startling me that I dropped the thing. It instantly scurried for the broken floor window, but Pat with a “No you don’t!” scooped it up in his empty binocular case and fastened down the lid.
“My grandfather once caught a fairy,” said Pat, “and devil a bit of good luck did he have after that. It brought him to an early grave in his ninety-seventh year.”
We emerged into the light of day, and Pat shut off his lights.
“Back to Leon,” I ordered, and Reeves started the three propellers roaring as he
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