hrough the
blinding smoke, but the instant we emerged below, where we found ourselves
still a mile above the ground, we were out again, ready to strike.

I have simply a confused recollection of flashing lights beneath, and a
great, dark arch of clouds above, out of which our ships seemed dropping
on all sides, and then the fray burst upon and around us, and no man
could see or notice anything except by half-comprehended glances.

Almost in an instant, it seemed, a swarm of airships surrounded us,
while from what, for lack of a more descriptive name, I shall call
the forts about the Lake of the Sun, leaped tongues of electric fire,
before which some of our ships were driven like bits of flaming paper
in a high wind, gleaming for a moment, then curling up and gone forever!

Never Was Such a Conflict.

It was an awful sight; but the battle fever was raging in us, and we,
on our part, were not idle.

Every man carried a disintegrator, and these hand instruments, together
with those of heavier calibre on the ships poured their resistless
vibrations in every direction through the quivering air.

The airships of the Martians were destroyed by the score, but yet they
flocked upon us thicker and faster.

We dropped lower and our blows fell upon the forts, and upon the
widespread city bordering the Lake of the Sun. We almost entirely
silenced the fire of one of the forts; but there were forty more in full
action within reach of our eyes!

Some of the metallic buildings were partly unroofed by the disintegrators
and some had their walls riddled and fell with thundering crashes, whose
sound rose to our ears above the hellish din of battle. I caught glimpses
of giant forms struggling in the ruins and rushing wildly through the
streets, but there was no time to see anything clearly.

The Flagship Charmed!

Our flagship seemed charmed. A crowd of airships hung upon it like a
swarm of angry bees, and, at times, one could not see for the lightning
strokes--yet we escaped destruction, while ourselves dealing death on
every hand.

It was a glorious fight, but it was not war; no, it was not war. We really
had no more chance of ultimate success amid that multitude of enemies
than a prisoner running the gauntlet in a crowd of savages has of escape.

A conviction of the hopelessness of the contest finally forced itself
upon our minds, and the shattered squadron, which had kept well together
amid the storm of death, was sign