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1"I've no wish to stop about here," said I. "I think I shall go to Leatherhead, for my wife was there." He shot out a
2pointing finger. "It is you," said he; "the man from Woking. And you weren't killed at Weybridge?" I recognised him at
3the same moment. "You are the artilleryman who came into my garden." "Good luck!" he said. "We are lucky ones! Fancy
4you!" He put out a hand, and I took it. "I crawled up a drain," he said. "But they didn't kill everyone. And after they
5went away I got off towards Walton across the fields. But---- It's not sixteen days altogether--and your hair is grey."
6He looked over his shoulder suddenly. "Only a rook," he said. "One gets to know that birds have shadows these days. This
7is a bit open. Let us crawl under those bushes and talk." "Have you seen any Martians?" I said. "Since I crawled
8out----" "They've gone away across London," he said. "I guess they've got a bigger camp there. Of a night, all over
9there, Hampstead way, the sky is alive with their lights. It's like a great city, and in the glare you can just see them
10moving. By daylight you can't. But nearer--I haven't seen them--" (he counted on his fingers) "five days. Then I saw a
11couple across Hammersmith way carrying something big. And the night before last"--he stopped and spoke impressively--"it
12was just a matter of lights, but it was something up in the air. I believe they've built a flying-machine, and are
13learning to fly." I stopped, on hands and knees, for we had come to the bushes. "Fly!" "Yes," he said, "fly." I went on
14into a little bower, and sat down. "It is all over with humanity," I said. "If they can do that they will simply go
15round the world." He nodded. "They will. But---- It will relieve things over here a bit. And besides----" He looked at
16me. "Aren't you satisfied it is up with humanity? I am. We're down; we're beat." I stared. Strange as it may seem, I had
17not arrived at this fact--a fact perfectly obvious so soon as he spoke. I had still held a vague hope; rather, I had
18kept a lifelong habit of mind. He repeated his words, "We're beat." They carried absolute conviction. "It's all over,"
19he said. "They've lost one--just one. And they've made their footing good and crippled the greatest power in the world.
20They've walked over us. The death of that one at Weybridge was an accident. And these are only pioneers. They kept on
21coming. These green stars--I've seen none these five or six days, but I've no doubt they're falling somewhere every
22night. Nothing's to be done. We're under! We're beat!" I made him no answer. I sat staring before me, trying in vain to
23devise some countervailing thought. "This isn't a war," said the artilleryman. "It never was a war, any more than
24there's war between man and ants." Suddenly I recalled the night in the observatory. "After the tenth shot they fired no
25more--at least, until the first cylinder came." "How do you know?" said the artilleryman. I explained. He thought.
26"Something wrong with the gun," he said. "But what if there is? They'll get it right again. And even if there's a delay,
27how can it alter the end? It's just men and ants. There's the ants builds their cities, live their lives, have wars,
28revolutions, until the men want them out of the way, and then they go out of the way. That's what we are now--just ants.
29Only----" "Yes," I said. "We're eatable ants." We sat looking at each other. "And what will they do with us?" I said.
30"That's what I've been thinking," he said; "that's what I've been thinking. After Weybridge I went south--thinking. I
31saw what was up. Most of the people were hard at it squealing and exciting themselves. But I'm not so fond of squealing.
32I've been in sight of death once or twice; I'm not an ornamental soldier, and at the best and worst, death--it's just
33death. And it's the man that keeps on thinking comes through. I saw everyone tracking away south. Says I, 'Food won't
34last this way,' and I turned right back. I went for the Martians like a sparrow goes for man. All round"--he waved a
35hand to the horizon--"they're starving in heaps, bolting, treading on each other. . . ." He saw my face, and halted
36awkwardly. "No doubt lots who had money have gone away to France," he said. He seemed to hesitate whether to apologise,
37met my eyes, and went on: "There's food all about here. Canned things in shops; wines, spirits, mineral waters; and the
38water mains and drains are empty. Well, I was telling you what I was thinking. 'Here's intelligent things,' I said, 'and
39it seems they want us for food. First, they'll smash us up--ships, machines, guns, cities, all the order and
40organisation. All that will go. If we were the size of ants we might pull through. But we're not. It's all too bulky to
41stop. That's the first certainty.' Eh?" I assented. "It is; I've thought it out. Very well, then--next; at present we're
42caught as we're wanted. A Martian has only to go a few miles to get a crowd on the run. And I saw one, one day, out by
43Wandsworth, picking houses to pieces and routing among the wreckage. But they won't keep on doing that. So soon as
44they've settled all our guns and ships, and smashed our railways, and done all the things they are doing over there,
45they will begin catching us systematic, picking the best and storing us in cages and things. That's what they will start
46doing in a bit. Lord! They haven't begun on us yet. Don't you see that?" "Not begun!" I exclaimed. "Not begun. All
47that's happened so far is through our not having the sense to keep quiet--worrying them with guns and such foolery. And
48losing our heads, and rushing off in crowds to where there wasn't any more safety than where we were. They don't want to
49bother us yet. They're making their things--making all the things they couldn't bring with them, getting things ready
50for the rest of their people. Very likely that's why the cylinders have stopped for a bit, for fear of hitting those who
51are here. And instead of our rushing about blind, on the howl, or getting dynamite on the chance of busting them up,
52we've got to fix ourselves up according to the new state of affairs. That's how I figure it out. It isn't quite
53according to what a man wants for his species, but it's about what the facts point to. And that's the principle I acted
54upon. Cities, nations, civilisation, progress--it's all over. That game's up. We're beat." "But if that is so, what is
55there to live for?" The artilleryman looked at me for a moment. "There won't be any more blessed concerts for a million
56years or so; there won't be any Royal Academy of Arts, and no nice little feeds at restaurants. If it's amusement you're
57after, I reckon the game is up. If you've got any drawing-room manners or a dislike to eating peas with a knife or
58dropping aitches, you'd better chuck 'em away. They ain't no further use." "You mean----" "I mean that men like me are
59going on living--for the sake of the breed. I tell you, I'm grim set on living. And if I'm not mistaken, you'll show
60what insides you've got, too, before long. We aren't going to be exterminated. And I don't mean to be caught either, and
61tamed and fattened and bred like a thundering ox. Ugh! Fancy those brown creepers!" "You don't mean to say----" "I do.
62I'm going on, under their feet. I've got it planned; I've thought it out. We men are beat. We don't know enough. We've
63got to learn before we've got a chance. And we've got to live and keep independent while we learn. See! That's what has
64to be done." I stared, astonished, and stirred profoundly by the man's resolution. "Great God!" cried I. "But you are a
65man indeed!" And suddenly I gripped his hand. "Eh!" he said, with his eyes shining. "I've thought it out, eh?" "Go on,"
66I said.
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