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- Герберт Уеллс
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- Война миров
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- Стр. 64/99
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The
little
steamer
was
already
flapping
her
way
eastward
of
the
big
crescent
of
shipping
,
and
the
low
Essex
coast
was
growing
blue
and
hazy
,
when
a
Martian
appeared
,
small
and
faint
in
the
remote
distance
,
advancing
along
the
muddy
coast
from
the
direction
of
Foulness
.
At
that
the
captain
on
the
bridge
swore
at
the
top
of
his
voice
with
fear
and
anger
at
his
own
delay
,
and
the
paddles
seemed
infected
with
his
terror
.
Every
soul
aboard
stood
at
the
bulwarks
or
on
the
seats
of
the
steamer
and
stared
at
that
distant
shape
,
higher
than
the
trees
or
church
towers
inland
,
and
advancing
with
a
leisurely
parody
of
a
human
stride
.
It
was
the
first
Martian
my
brother
had
seen
,
and
he
stood
,
more
amazed
than
terrified
,
watching
this
Titan
advancing
deliberately
towards
the
shipping
,
wading
farther
and
farther
into
the
water
as
the
coast
fell
away
.
Then
,
far
away
beyond
the
Crouch
,
came
another
,
striding
over
some
stunted
trees
,
and
then
yet
another
,
still
farther
off
,
wading
deeply
through
a
shiny
mudflat
that
seemed
to
hang
halfway
up
between
sea
and
sky
.
They
were
all
stalking
seaward
,
as
if
to
intercept
the
escape
of
the
multitudinous
vessels
that
were
crowded
between
Foulness
and
the
Naze
.
In
spite
of
the
throbbing
exertions
of
the
engines
of
the
little
paddle-boat
,
and
the
pouring
foam
that
her
wheels
flung
behind
her
,
she
receded
with
terrifying
slowness
from
this
ominous
advance
.
Glancing
northwestward
,
my
brother
saw
the
large
crescent
of
shipping
already
writhing
with
the
approaching
terror
;
one
ship
passing
behind
another
,
another
coming
round
from
broadside
to
end
on
,
steamships
whistling
and
giving
off
volumes
of
steam
,
sails
being
let
out
,
launches
rushing
hither
and
thither
.
He
was
so
fascinated
by
this
and
by
the
creeping
danger
away
to
the
left
that
he
had
no
eyes
for
anything
seaward
.
And
then
a
swift
movement
of
the
steamboat
(
she
had
suddenly
come
round
to
avoid
being
run
down
)
flung
him
headlong
from
the
seat
upon
which
he
was
standing
.
There
was
a
shouting
all
about
him
,
a
trampling
of
feet
,
and
a
cheer
that
seemed
to
be
answered
faintly
.
The
steamboat
lurched
and
rolled
him
over
upon
his
hands
.
He
sprang
to
his
feet
and
saw
to
starboard
,
and
not
a
hundred
yards
from
their
heeling
,
pitching
boat
,
a
vast
iron
bulk
like
the
blade
of
a
plough
tearing
through
the
water
,
tossing
it
on
either
side
in
huge
waves
of
foam
that
leaped
towards
the
steamer
,
flinging
her
paddles
helplessly
in
the
air
,
and
then
sucking
her
deck
down
almost
to
the
waterline
.
A
douche
of
spray
blinded
my
brother
for
a
moment
.
When
his
eyes
were
clear
again
he
saw
the
monster
had
passed
and
was
rushing
landward
.
Big
iron
upperworks
rose
out
of
this
headlong
structure
,
and
from
that
twin
funnels
projected
and
spat
a
smoking
blast
shot
with
fire
.
It
was
the
torpedo
ram
,
Thunder
Child
,
steaming
headlong
,
coming
to
the
rescue
of
the
threatened
shipping
.
Keeping
his
footing
on
the
heaving
deck
by
clutching
the
bulwarks
,
my
brother
looked
past
this
charging
leviathan
at
the
Martians
again
,
and
he
saw
the
three
of
them
now
close
together
,
and
standing
so
far
out
to
sea
that
their
tripod
supports
were
almost
entirely
submerged
.
Thus
sunken
,
and
seen
in
remote
perspective
,
they
appeared
far
less
formidable
than
the
huge
iron
bulk
in
whose
wake
the
steamer
was
pitching
so
helplessly
.
It
would
seem
they
were
regarding
this
new
antagonist
with
astonishment
.
To
their
intelligence
,
it
may
be
,
the
giant
was
even
such
another
as
themselves
.
The
Thunder
Child
fired
no
gun
,
but
simply
drove
full
speed
towards
them
.
It
was
probably
her
not
firing
that
enabled
her
to
get
so
near
the
enemy
as
she
did
.
They
did
not
know
what
to
make
of
her
.
One
shell
,
and
they
would
have
sent
her
to
the
bottom
forthwith
with
the
Heat-Ray
.
She
was
steaming
at
such
a
pace
that
in
a
minute
she
seemed
halfway
between
the
steamboat
and
the
Martians
--
a
diminishing
black
bulk
against
the
receding
horizontal
expanse
of
the
Essex
coast
.
Suddenly
the
foremost
Martian
lowered
his
tube
and
discharged
a
canister
of
the
black
gas
at
the
ironclad
.
It
hit
her
larboard
side
and
glanced
off
in
an
inky
jet
that
rolled
away
to
seaward
,
an
unfolding
torrent
of
Black
Smoke
,
from
which
the
ironclad
drove
clear
.
To
the
watchers
from
the
steamer
,
low
in
the
water
and
with
the
sun
in
their
eyes
,
it
seemed
as
though
she
were
already
among
the
Martians
.
They
saw
the
gaunt
figures
separating
and
rising
out
of
the
water
as
they
retreated
shoreward
,
and
one
of
them
raised
the
camera-like
generator
of
the
Heat-Ray
.
He
held
it
pointing
obliquely
downward
,
and
a
bank
of
steam
sprang
from
the
water
at
its
touch
.
It
must
have
driven
through
the
iron
of
the
ship
's
side
like
a
white-hot
iron
rod
through
paper
.
