"Bah!" said Spartan. And he fired.
An explosive bullet struck the Martian on the right. We didn't hear the
crack of the rifle or the blast of the bullet as it struck the poor
creature. But we saw the smoke and flying flesh. What remained of the
beast collapsed in a heap on the sand.
The second Martian, not having seen Spartan, seemed to freeze in terror
for an instant. Possibly there had been some sort of a dying scream
from his companion--one that could not be heard on the wave length of
our helmet receivers. At any rate, it took only a split second for
Martian No. 2 to realize we were neither weak nor harmless, as we had
seemed. He turned and fled toward the canal at full gallop.
His speed was astonishing.
Dr. Spartan fired again. His shot missed and sent a geyser of sand
skyward, ahead of the fleet monster. He swore and fired again. But the
next shot was not an explosive bullet. It missed, too, and he switched
his weapon to automatic and emptied the magazine with rapid fire. I saw
the path cut across the sand and intercept the Martian. The creature
staggered, then sank to the ground.
"Hah!" Spartan exclaimed triumphantly. "Let's take the dead creature to
the ship! I'd like to see how he's constructed."
It was a gruesome business, but we loaded the scaly body into the locks
of our car. The one Spartan had shot first was too torn and shattered
to be worth transporting. Besides, the fluid that might be called
blood, or sap, looked like acid and I was afraid it might damage the
floor of the locks. My judgment turned out to be correct, for when
Gail, our biologist, examined the beast we brought back, she announced
that he was a mass of deadly poison and so were the plant samples I'd
brought back from the canals.
"What kind of poison?" Spartan asked.
"I'm not sure, but Bill Drake can tell with a few tests," she said.