"But whatever kind of clothes have they got on?"
Well might he ask, for the Martians seemed to be covered with a
combination of fur and feathers. They wore no garments that
could be put on or taken off, but seemed to be provided by either
Nature or skill with suits that were a part of themselves. Men,
women and children were all attired alike.
Suddenly the travelers felt themselves come to a stop. A murmur
arose from the crowd, and from the midst of the assemblage there
stepped forth a man, who seemed to be a sort of leader. On his
head was a golden band, and attached to it was a small,
glittering triangle. He approached quite close to the little
party, and the boys noticed that he seemed to float along, rather
than to walk, and that his progress was very swift. He looked
searchingly at the strangers with his big eyes, and then
addressed them in a queer language. By the tones of his voice it
was easily guessed that he was asking them questions, and it did
not take much of an imagination to guess that he was inquiring
whence they came, how they had arrived, and what they wanted.
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