I saw that the ceremony, if it could be dignified by such a name,
was over, and seeking out Sola I found her in our chariot with a
hideous little creature held tightly in her arms.

The work of rearing young, green Martians consists solely in
teaching them to talk, and to use the weapons of warfare with
which they are loaded down from the very first year of their lives.
Coming from eggs in which they have lain for five years, the period
of incubation, they step forth into the world perfectly developed
except in size. Entirely unknown to their mothers, who, in turn,
would have difficulty in pointing out the fathers with any degree of
accuracy, they are the common children of the community, and their
education devolves upon the females who chance to capture them as
they leave the incubator.

Their foster mothers may not even have had an egg in the incubator,
as was the case with Sola, who had not commenced to lay, until
less than a year before she became the mother of another woman's
offspring. But this counts for little among the green Martians, as
parental and filial love is as unknown to them as it is common among
us. I believe this horrible system which has been carried on for
ages is the direct cause of the loss of all the finer feelings and
higher humanitarian instincts among these poor creatures. From
birth they know no father or mother love, they know not the meaning
of the word home; they are taught that they are only suffered to
live until they can demonstrate by their physique and ferocity that
they are fit to live. Should they prove deformed or defective in
any way they are promptly shot; nor do they see a tear shed for a
single one of the many cruel hardships they pass through from
earliest infancy.