The Pool of Fire (The Tripods) Read Online Free PDF

Those lands, farther to the south, which they did not control, they had laid waste.)
    Our task did not, as one might have thought, become easier where the Tripods were less common. If anything they seemed, perhaps through their rarity, to inspire a more complete devotion. We reached a land at last, beyond an isthmus between two seas, near which stood the ruins of a great city (it was relatively little overgrown with vegetation, but looked far more ancient than any other we had seen), in which there were great hemispheres of wood, set on three stilts and approached by steps, in which the people worshiped. Long, involved services were conducted there, with much chanting and wailing. Above each hemisphere stood a model of a Tripod, not painted gold but covered with the beaten leaf of the very metal.
    But we persisted, and found converts there, also. We were becoming more skilled at our job all the time.
    •  •  •
    There were tribulations, of course. Although we had moved south, into sunnier, warmer lands, there were times of bitter cold, particularly in the higher regions, when we had to huddle close to the horses at night to keep the blood from freezing in our veins. And long arid days, in near-desert regions, when we had to look anxiously for a sign of water, not just for ourselves but for our beasts. We depended on them absolutely, and it was a staggering blow when Fritz’s horse sickened and, a couple of days later, died. I was selfish enough to be glad that it was not my own horse, Crest, of which I was very fond; but even more concerned with the difficulties that faced us.
    We were in bad country, too, on the edge of a great desert and a long way from habitation. We transferred as much of our baggage as possible to Crest, and plodded off, walking now, of course, in the direction of the nearest village. As we went, we saw large ugly birds drop from the lazy circles they had been making in the sky to rip the flesh from the poor creature’s bones. They would be picked clean within an hour.
    This was in the morning. We traveled all that day and half of the next before we reached a few stone huts clustering about an oasis. There was no hope of replacing our lost animal there and we had to trek on, another three days, to what was described as a town, though no bigger in fact than the village of Wherton, where I was born. Here there were animals, and we had gold with which to pay for one. The difficulty was that horses, in these parts, were never used as beasts of burden, butonly as gaudily caparisoned steeds for persons of high rank. We would have bitterly offended local custom if we had bought one and then put packs on it.
    What they did have here was a creature such as I had never seen before, nor imagined could exist. It was covered in coarse light brown hair and stood higher than a horse, and had a huge hump on its back, which we were told contained a store of water on which it could live for days, a week if necessary. Instead of hooves it had great splayed feet with toes. The head, at the end of a long neck, was hideously ugly, with loose lips and big yellow teeth and, I may say, foul breath. The animal looked awkward and ungainly, but could move surprisingly fast and carry huge loads.
    Fritz and I had a disagreement in regard to this. I wanted us to purchase one of these beasts, and he opposed it. I suffered the usual frustration that took place when we were at odds over something. My passionate statement of my argument was met by stolid resistance on his part. This made me indignant—my indignation made him more sullenly obstinate—which increased my indignation further . . . and so on. My enumeration of the animal’s advantages was answered by the simple counter that we had almost reached the point at which we should turn and start our return swing toward the caves. However useful it might be in these parts, it would look bizarre in places where it was not familiar, and the one thing we must not do was