yard or more in diameter, and their
range was tremendous; although working rather less rapidly as the
distance and power decreased, they were effective over a range of many
miles.

Before their blasting beams the forest shriveled and sank into tumbled
chaos. A haze of brownish dust hung low over the scene, and I watched
with a sort of awe. It was the first time I had ever seen the rays at
work on such wholesale destruction.

A startling thing became evident soon after we began our work. This
world that we had thought to be void of animal life, proved to be
teeming with it. From out of the tangle of broken and harmless branches,
thousands of animals appeared. The majority of them were quite large,
perhaps the size of full-grown hogs, which Earth animal they seemed to
resemble, save that they were a dirty yellow color, and had strong,
heavily-clawed feet. These were the largest of the animals, but there
were myriads of smaller ones, all of them pale or neutral in color, and
apparently unused to such strong light, for they ran blindly, wildly
seeking shelter from the universal confusion.

Still the destructive beams kept about their work, until the scene
changed utterly. Instead of resting in a clearing, the _Kalid_ was in
the midst of a tangle of fallen, wilting branches that stretched like a
great, still sea, as far as the eye could see.

"Cease action!" I ordered suddenly. I had seen, or thought I had seen, a
human figure moving in the tangle, not far from the edge of the
clearing. Correy relayed the order, and instantly the rays were cut off.
My menore, free from the interference of the great atomic generators of
the _Kalid_, emanated the moment the generators ceased functioning.

"Enough. Hanson! Cut the rays; we're coming."

"We have ceased action; come on!"

I hurried to the still open exit. Kincaide and his guards were staring
at what had been the forest; they were so intent that they did not
notice I had joined them--and no wonder!

A file of men were scrambling over the debris; gaunt men with
dishevelled hair, practically naked, covered with dirt and the greasy
brown dust of the disintegrator ray. In the lead, hardly recognizable,
his menore awry upon his tangled locks, was Peter Wilson.

"Wilson!" I shouted; and in a single great leap I was at his side,
shaking his hand, one arm about his scarred shoulders, laughing and
talking excitedly, all in the same breath. "Wilson, tell me--in God's
name--what