It wasn’t moving up and down very fast.
His face wasn’t sweaty, either.
Accordion, harmonica, wine, shout, dance, wail, roundabout, dash of pan, laughter.
Biggs weaved to the rim of the Martian canal.
He carried six empty bottles and dropped them one by one into the deep blue canal waters.
They made empty, hollow, drowning sounds as they sank.
“I christen thee, I christen thee, I christen thee — ” said Biggs thickly.
“I christen thee Biggs, Biggs, Biggs Canal — ”
Spender was on his feet, over the fire, and alongside Biggs before anyone moved.
He hit Biggs once in the teeth and once in the ear.
Biggs toppled and fell down into the canal water.
After the splash Spender waited silently for Biggs to climb back up onto the stone bank.
By that time the men were holding Spender.
“Hey, what’s eating you, Spender?
Hey?” they asked.
Biggs climbed up and stood dripping.
He saw the men holding Spender.
“Well,” he said, and started forward.
“That’s enough,” snapped Captain Wilder.
The men broke away from Spender.
Biggs stopped and glanced at the captain.
“All right, Biggs, get some dry clothes.
You men, carry on your party!
Spender, come with me!”
The men took up the party.
Wilder moved off some distance and confronted Spender.
“Suppose you explain what just happened,” he said.
Spender looked at the canal.
“I don’t know, I was ashamed.
Of Biggs and us and the noise.
Christ, what a spectade.”
“It’s been a long trip.
They’ve got to have their fling.”
“Where’s their respect, sir?
Where’s their sense of the right thing?”
“You’re tired, and you’ve a different way of seeing things, Spender.
That’s a fifty-dollar fine for you.”
“Yes, sir.
It was just the idea of Them watching us make fools of ourselves.”
“Them?”
“The Martians, whether they’re dead or not.”
“Most certainly dead,” said the captain.
“Do you think They know we’re here?”
“Doesn’t an old thing always know when a new thing comes?”
“I suppose so.
You sound as if you believe in spirits.”
“I believe in the things that were done, and there are evidences of many things done on Mars.
There are streets and houses, and there are books, I imagine, and big canals and docks and places for stabling, if not horses, well, then some domestic animal, perhaps with twelve legs, who knows?
Everywhere I look I see things that were used.
They were touched and handled for centuries.