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Burroughs, Edgar Rice, 1875-1950

"Gods of Mars"

If one cannot pass over it, or below it, or around
it, why then there is but a single alternative left, and that is
to pass through it. I could not get around the fact that many of
these other boats could rise faster than ours by the fact of their
greater buoyancy, but I was none the less determined to reach the
outer world far in advance of them or die a death of my own choosing
in event of failure.
"Reverse?" screamed Xodar, behind me. "For the love of your first
ancestor, reverse. We are at the shaft."
"Hold tight!" I screamed in reply. "Grasp the boy and hold tight--we
are going straight up the shaft."
The words were scarce out of my mouth as we swept beneath the
pitch-black opening. I threw the bow hard up, dragged the speed
lever to its last notch, and clutching a stanchion with one hand
and the steering-wheel with the other hung on like grim death and
consigned my soul to its author.
I heard a little exclamation of surprise from Xodar, followed by a
grim laugh. The boy laughed too and said something which I could
not catch for the whistling of the wind of our awful speed.
I looked above my head, hoping to catch the gleam of stars by which
I could direct our course and hold the hurtling thing that bore us
true to the centre of the shaft. To have touched the side at the
speed we were making would doubtless have resulted in instant death
for us all.


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