nearly felled him. "If you had feathers and four more legs you could impersonate a jackant to perfection."
"Thanks," Mayer coughed. "But what's the idea of asking me to make a jackant of myself?"
"Can't you assimilate that? The jackant call will be our signal."
"You mean you want me to imitate a jackant to guide you back to the spaceship?"
"That's the idea precisely, my lad. Sometimes you display intelligence that is almost human. Now, be sure to get this straight, young fellow: After I've been gone about an hour or so, you are to come outside about once every ten minutes and give five or six calls like the one you just perpetrated. All I'll have to do will be to travel in the direction of the sound. Do you integrate?"
Mayer nodded and said: "I check with you. Don't worry, you can depend on me."
"A. Z., Dan, me lad. So long!"
With the enormous, springy strides which were made possible by the low gravitational attraction of Mars, Lieutenant Sullivan quickly disappeared in the darkness.
CHAPTER VI
The War God's Chariot Steeds
WHEN Mayer reentered the spaceship, Captain Brink was making entries in the log book. Briefly the ensign told his chief about the system of signaling which he and Sullivan had agreed to use.
Brink shook his head grimly.
"What's the matter, Chief?" Mayer asked anxiously. "Anything wrong?"
"I hope not," Brink replied. "But I wish you had consulted me first."
"Does that mean we have made a mistake—that our signals won't work?"
"That remains to be seen. And since it's too late to change the plan, there's no use in discussing it any further. Meanwhile, it looks like you have a long night's work ahead of you, so I suggest that you snatch a bit of sleep."
"I really don't feel like sleeping, Chief. This is my first night on Mars. If you don't mind, I'd like to sit up and look at the scenery. I think it's beautiful."
"Beautiful, my gravinul!" Brink snorted. "I can't see anything beautiful about the landscape of Mars. No trees. No mountains. No oceans, lakes or rivers. Nothing but bleak, arid plains and stagnant marshes overgrown with obnoxious, crawling vines."
"I wasn't thinking of the landscapes," said Mayer. "What intrigues me is the sky. Just look at it! How large and brilliant the stars are tonight."
"That's because the atmosphere is rarefied and cloudless," the captain informed him.
"Yes. And look at those two moons. How in the world did they get such outlandish names as Phobos and Deimos? Let me see. Phobos means fear and Deimos means flight. Isn't that right?"
Brink nodded.
"But why give such frightful, flighty names to a couple of lovely satellites?" Mayer wanted to know.
With an amused grin playing about his firm, thin lips, the captain said: "Apparently you know more about philology than you do about ancient mythology. For your edification permit me to inform you that Phobos and Deimos were the names of the horses
