and lunged for Hilary.

The Earthman came out of his daze at the sight of the other. Strength
seemed to flow back into his weary body. His fist came up, clean with
all the power that was left in him. It went home with a
soul-satisfying crunch. Urga's gray gash of a mouth seemed to smear
slowly over the rest of his face. A wild animal scream burst from him
as he sagged. Then a swirl of other Mercutians anxious to get at the
Earthman eddied him out of view.

Hilary felt better. Now he could die content. Even with their guns,
what could a handful of Earthmen do against the resistless,
ever-coming tide of Mercutians, thousands of them?

* * * * *

It was raining now, slowly at first, large scattered drops, then
heavier and heavier, until the fogged air was a driving sheet of
water.

What of it?--thought Hilary bitterly as he fought and slipped and
stumbled in the slimy, bloody muck that was now the ground. The
Mercutians' weapons were useless, but they did not need them any more.
Sheer numbers would overwhelm the Earthmen.

Then to his amazement something happened. The heavens, long outraged
by the artificial repression of the weather machine, kicked over all
traces and opened their sluices in earnest. The sky was one vast
waterfall. The elements roared and rocked; the valley was knee deep
already in a spate of waters.

Hilary splashed and waded after his enemies. But they were going. They
staggered and trembled in every shaking limb, heedless now of the
Earthmen. They slipped and fell into the flood, and stayed there,
motionless under the waters. Like Pharaoh's army they were being
drowned before the amazed Earthmen's very eyes.

On their own planet it never rained; there was no water except for
carefully hoarded underground lakes. This first taste of real Earth
weather was too much for them. They could not withstand the driving
rain, the water swirling round their knees. All the strength went out
of their shaggy frames, their knees buckled and down they went,
helpless, destroyed by a natural phenomenon to which they were
unaccustomed. They had actually been smothered by the humidity!

Hilary's voice was strong again. With great shouts, he rallied his
men. A pitiful handful; only fifteen of the fifty that had entered the
valley. But Joan was alive, her face black with burned skin, otherwise
unhurt. Wat's grin rose superior to a mask of raw flesh, and Grim,
bleeding from a hundred