I don’t think I thought clearly then. I seem to remember a kind of
stereotyped phrase running through my mind: “Zone of fire, seek cover!”
I know I made a dash for the space between two of the carcasses, and
stood there panting and feeling very wicked.
I looked round for Cavor, and for a moment it seemed as if he had
vanished from the world. Then he came out of the darkness between the
row of the carcasses and the rocky wall of the cavern. I saw his little
face, dark and blue, and shining with perspiration and emotion.
He was saying something, but what it was I did not heed. I had realised
that we might work from mooncalf to mooncalf up the cave until we were
near enough to charge home. It was charge or nothing. “Come on!” I
said, and led the way.
“Bedford!” he cried unavailingly.
My mind was busy as we went up that narrow alley between the dead
bodies and the wall of the cavern. The rocks curved about—they could
not enfilade us. Though in that narrow space we could not leap, yet
with our earth-born strength we were still able to go very much faster
than the Selenites. I reckoned we should presently come right among
them. Once we were on them, they would be nearly as formidable as black
beetles. Only there would first of all be a volley. I thought of a
stratagem. I whipped off my flannel jacket as I ran.
“Bedford!” panted Cavor behind me.