"About the size of a rabbit," I muttered. "And half the hunters on earth can't bring one back." I made the rocky area and found myself a suitable prominence from which to look around. In less than fifteen minutes, I'd spotted one of the things. They were about the size of a rabbit all right, and what was more they looked considerably like one of the earth type rodents--long ears, nub of a tail. I watched it for some time through the small glass I'd borrowed from Mike. It was evidently eating the bark, and possibly the wood as well, of a stunted, rugged looking Martian tree which seemed to be growing out of almost solid rock. The boys had said that there were a lot of zloors around so I didn't have to worry about conversion. I took up the rifle, aimed carefully through the scope and squeezed the trigger. I was interested, eventually, in getting a live zloor, but it wouldn't hurt to have a closer look at one of the things to help me in planning my campaign. The gun snapped and I could see the tiny bullet spank into the little animal's side. I'd got him! But something didn't look right. I took up the telescope again and peered through it. The zloor was still eating. That stopped me. I could have sworn that I'd hit it, right amidships. I aimed even more carefully this time, for its head, and squeezed gently. That shot, too, hit dead center. But the zloor didn't bother to stop its feeding. I sat there a long time staring at it. Finally I snorted inwardly. Obviously, this was what had been stopping the others--this animal had some very effective natural body armor. Well--there is more than one way of skinning a zloor, as well as a cat. I picked up the rifle and headed down toward the tree and the animal that was devouring it, figuring to get as close as possible with the idea of getting a really good look at the bulletproof beastie. I wished, now, that I'd brought my .257 Roberts instead of the .22 Hornet. At first I was careful in my approach, slipping from cover to cover; but as I got closer it became evident that the zloor wasn't particularly timid and that as far as it was concerned I could come as near as I wanted. I stood off about five feet and watched it for a long time. Once it looked up and over at me, but then went back to the tree in which it was making a respectable hole. I tried once again with the rifle, aiming carefully right behind its ear. The gun snapped, and the bullet thudded--but the zloor ignored it. "Holy Wodo," I snorted. "He's _really_ bulletproof." In fact, he was more than just bulletproof. The _shock_ of the impact of the high powered twenty-two hadn't even bothered him, it wasn't just a matter of the bullet's inability to penetrate the hide. "Well," I told myself. "Let's see just how close I _can_ come before it runs off." * * * * *