And this Thing! How can I describe it? A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over the young pine trees and smashing them aside its wallowing career; a walking engine of glittering metal, reeling now across the heather, articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly, as it seemed with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking-stool tilted and bowled violently along the ground? But instead of a milking-stool, imagine it a great thing of metal, like the body of a colossal steam-engine on a tripod stand.