erry was fighting in a red haze through which he saw dimly. He was
aware of the hailstorm of boulders that were thick in the air. He saw
vaguely the white faces and copper-clad bodies of strange men leaping
about him, and he heard the wild bedlam of their shrieks as they
joined in the mad battle against the common enemy.

The beasts were swept off in a landslide of loose rock--all but one.
Above them, on a high point of stone, it was crouching to spring. A
wild human figure, its flesh white as chalk, leaped forward with a
tangle of fibers. The tangle was thrown as the brute was in air. A net
spread and wrapped around the monster. It fell, clawing and tearing,
to roll helplessly down the slope.

The battle was won. Jerry swayed drunkenly on his feet. About him the
mountains seemed whirling, where unreal figures of men with dead
white skin and shining copper armor danced dizzily.

He met for an instant the look from Winslow's dazed eyes. Out of the
past a picture flashed clearly: Winslow--this same Winslow--arguing
that the moon might hold mysteries still. He laughed thickly.

"And I said it was all known," he muttered through slack lips.
"Nothing on the moon that wasn't known...."

He was still laughing in a wild inebriation as a net settled close to
entangle his swaying figure and bear him helpless to the ground. He
saw Winslow similarly bound, saw him lifted to the shoulders of
shouting, yelling men, whose stupid, pasty faces were wide-eyed with
excitement.

He, too, was raised into the air.... They were being carried toward
the crater's mouth....

* * * * *

A fight for life in thin air does not make for clear thinking. Jerry
Foster knew only that a nightmare world was whirling about him; that
beneath him powerful shoulders supported, while the one who carried
him leaped at racing speed down the slope.

They went more slowly down pathways cleared through the rank
vegetation. Soft, pulpy vines from the grotesque trees brushed his
face. He tried vaguely to shield himself, but his hands were bound
fast. He was helpless in the entangling folds of the net.

The touch of cold stone brought him to his senses. He was lying on
smooth rock. They were in a clearing. He turned his head to find
Winslow, but could not find him.

Across the open ground were naked men, their bodies, like these
others, dead white in the sun's glare. They were dragging giant stalks
to earth by means of ropes