The train with its thirty-mile range gun was gone at dawn. But it came again the next night. I went with Graff, aloft on a small platform, high over our lines. Through the red glow of our barrage we could see the train in the distance--a blur of moving lights. We carried a single small projector. At dawn we sailed out, through a momentary break in the barrage. The train saw us coming. It retreated, swinging and swaying over its rails at an eighty-mile-an-hour gait. It was a Garga locomotive, and a flat car. Puffing, snorting, careening through the country to avoid us. But we caught it. There was nothing there in a moment but a tumbled heap of its heavier steel parts. We sailed back. * * * * * The world during these days must have been frantically assembling its armament. Our Brazil base continued to be harassed. By July 15, our river quite suddenly went dry. We found that some fifty miles up the course on a distant rise of ground they had mounted a queerly-fashioned projector. It might have been from Xenephrene itself! It was Freddie's heat-projector, sent here from Miami by the United States government. It had an effective range of some two miles, and its heat--they must have been applying it continuously for several days--had dried up the small water-course, sending it up in clouds of steam. Graff ordered an attacking platform out. It never returned. Miraculously, a long-range gun must have hit it. Then we found that, still farther up, they were damming our stream. Graff let them alone. We sent out foraging parties at intervals for water. They were frequently attacked. From Zetta, I sometimes had translated accounts of these hand-to-hand engagements. Graff had a variety of small hand weapons with which his foraging men were generally armed. Hand batteries of the purple Reet-current. They shot very short, purple stabs of flame. I recalled seeing the guards use them that night in the Garla Stadium. There were hand knives, not unlike the Spanish machete. And occasionally Graff used a lethal gas. It clung its weight close to the ground. The wind would sometimes sweep it over a village. The small purple flame projectors interested me particularly. I persuaded Graff to show me one. The crimson barrage was a form of Reet; so was this purple light. The one a low vibration rate; the other, a high. Both, of course, were akin to the Control-globes. I tried again to mention the Control, but Graff shut me up. He was not using it, as yet. I found out soon afterward that, by every artifice in her power, Zetta was holding him back. But he explained the purple flame. It stabbed into the crimson barrage, neutralized it. With one of these small projectors, a man at a distance of ten feet or so could stab a small hole through our red radiance. Graff used this small hand projector to blind the earthmen at short range, and to explode their gunpowder weapons in their hands--both of which it evidently did with great efficacy.