irectly, but the two wings raced past to cut us
off in front. At the base of the little cliff where the _Comet_ lay, the
circle closed.

"Jump," I called, and threw myself up over them toward the stone. Garth
would have fallen back, but I caught his hand and pulled him to safety.
We had won.

But had we? Joined by reinforcements from somewhere, the creatures were
packed all around the base of the cliff and had begun to climb its
walls, to cut us off from the ship. We rushed separately toward the two
sides, and they backed away. But those in front were now established on
the top. We stepped backward, and the whole line came on. But now we
turned and ran for the _Comet_.

We were just able to turn again and clear them away with our swords. In
a moment others would be climbing up from behind over the ship. And the
door to safety was on a level with our heads.

There was just one chance. Stamping threateningly, we cleared the things
out for ten feet in front of us. But once we turned our backs for a
running start they were at us again.

"Boost you up, Dunal," said Garth pantingly.

"No, you first."

But in the midst of my words, he almost threw me into the doorway. I
turned to pull him up after me. They were around his legs, and one had
jumped down upon his helmet. And he must have known it would happen.

"Go back to her," he cried, and slammed shut the door.

* * * * *

There was no time to help him, to interfere with the way of expiation he
had chosen. I tried to look away, but a sort of fascination kept me
watching him through the glass. He had been dragged to his knees. Then
he was up again, whirling to keep them away on all sides in a mad,
gallant fight. But the creatures knew it was the kill. Now they were
around his knees, now up to his waist in their overpowering mass. It was
only a matter of minutes.

Garth took a staggering step backward, dragging them all with him. He
was facing me, and swung up his sword in the old Lunar salute. "Good
luck, Dunal." The words, coming clearly over the radio, had a note of
exaltation.

Then flashing his blade over his head, he hurled it into the midst of
the accursed things. With a tremendous effort, Garth tore the protecting
helmet from his head, and plunged backward over the cliff....

There was nothing to do but get in out of the lock and start for home,
and little on the trip is worthy of recounting. Without unsurpassable
difficul