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There , among some young pine trees and furze bushes , I stopped , panting , and waited further developments . The common round the sand - pits was dotted with people , standing like myself in a half - fascinated terror , staring at these creatures , or rather at the heaped gravel at the edge of the pit in which they lay . And then , with a renewed horror , I saw a round , black object bobbing up and down on the edge of the pit . It was the head of the shopman who had fallen in , but showing as a little black object against the hot western sun . Now he got his shoulder and knee up , and again he seemed to slip back until only his head was visible . Suddenly he vanished , and I could have fancied a faint shriek had reached me . I had a momentary impulse to go back and help him that my fears overruled . Everything was then quite invisible , hidden by the deep pit and the heap of sand that the fall of the cylinder had made . Anyone coming along the road from Chobham or Woking would have been amazed at the sight — a dwindling multitude of perhaps a hundred people or more standing in a great irregular circle , in ditches , behind bushes , behind gates and hedges , saying little to one another and that in short , excited shouts , and staring , staring hard at a few heaps of sand . The barrow of ginger beer stood , a queer derelict , black against the burning sky , and in the sand - pits was a row of deserted vehicles with their horses feeding out of nosebags or pawing the ground . V . THE HEAT - RAY . After the glimpse I had had of the Martians emerging from the cylinder in which they had come to the earth from their planet , a kind of fascination paralysed my actions . I remained standing knee - deep in the heather , staring at the mound that hid them . I was a battleground of fear and curiosity . I did not dare to go back towards the pit , but I felt a passionate longing to peer into it . I began walking , therefore , in a big curve , seeking some point of vantage and continually looking at the sand - heaps that hid these new - comers to our earth . Once a leash of thin black whips , like the arms of an octopus , flashed across the sunset and was immediately withdrawn , and afterwards a thin rod rose up , joint by joint , bearing at its apex a circular disk that spun with a wobbling motion . What could be going on there ? Most of the spectators had gathered in one or two groups — one a little crowd towards Woking , the other a knot of people in the direction of Chobham . Evidently they shared my mental conflict . There were few near me . One man I approached — he was , I perceived , a neighbour of mine , though I did not know his name — and accosted . But it was scarcely a time for articulate conversation . “ What ugly brutes ! ” he said . “ Good God ! What ugly brutes ! ” He repeated this over and over again . “ Did you see a man in the pit ? ” I said ; but he made no answer to that . We became silent , and stood watching for a time side by side , deriving , I fancy , a certain comfort in one another’s company . Then I shifted my position to a little knoll that gave me the advantage of a yard or more of elevation and when I looked for him presently he was walking towards Woking .
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