But that, of course, was nonsense. Having quickly persuaded himself that he was in no danger Mr. Caxton confidently increased his stride, and did not realize that he was in the presence of Peter's bird until it was breathing at his side. Peter's Martian bird! The instant Mr. Caxton felt its breath fanning his cheeks on both sides of his oxygen mask he leapt back with a wild, despairing cry. In the darkness the creature appeared much bigger than it actually was, and it was easy to see how two startled and imaginative children might have magnified its outlines, and misjudged its bulk. Mr. Caxton was deceived very much as Peter had been. Actually it was an incredibly slender and graceful bird, a creature of air and fire with a razor-sharp bill three times the length of its long, tapering body. Unfortunately Mr. Caxton could not see the bill straighten out in the darkness, and he had no way of knowing that a bill that could curve down to pick up lichenous food from the sparse Martian desert could straighten out in an instant to bayonet a man. "If you saw what Peter saw you'd scream too, Mr. Caxton," Susan had said. Mr. Caxton saw what Peter saw, but when the bill pierced his chest and went plunging on through him he made no sound at all. He did scream as he fell backwards--shrilly and horribly for an instant. But there was no one to hear.