I looked back, and saw that I had run in the wrong direction. But it
made no difference. Over a whole circle around us the sand was rising,
and directly between us and the _Comet_ there was a great green-brown
mass. We were surrounded.
We stood staring at the creatures. Spread out to full dimensions, each
one made a sphere about four feet in diameter. In the center, a solid
mass whose outlines were difficult to discern; and spreading out from
this a hundred long, thin, many-jointed arms or legs or branches or
whatever one could call them.
The things were not yet definitely hostile--only their circle, of
perhaps fifty yards radius, grew continually thicker and more
impenetrable. Within the enclosed area, the only ripples we could see in
the sand were heading outward. There was to be no surprise attack from
below, at least; only one in mass. What, I wondered, might be a sign of
friendship, to persuade them to let us go.
* * * * *
And then the circle began to close in. The things rolled over and over
on themselves, like gigantic tumbleweeds. At one point, to the right of
the direct route to the _Comet_, the line seemed thinner. I pointed the
place out to Garth.
"Break through there, and make a run for it."
We charged into the midst of them with swinging blades. The very
suddenness of our rush carried us half-way through their midst. Then
something had my legs from behind. I almost fell, but succeeded in
turning and cutting myself free. The creatures from the other side of
the circle must have made the hundred yards in four or five seconds. And
the rest had now covered the breach in front. It was hopeless.
And so we stood back to back, hewing out a circle of protection against
our enemies. They seemed to have no fear, and in spite of the
destruction our blades worked among them, they almost overcame us by
sheer numbers and weight. It was a case of whirling our swords back and
forth interminably in the midst of their tentacles. Against the light,
the long arms were a half-transparent brown. Our swords broke them in
bright shivers. Formed from the predominant silicon of the planet, the
creatures were living glass!
For perhaps a quarter of an hour we were in the thick of them, hewing
until I thought my arms must fall, slashing and tearing at the ones that
had got underfoot and were clamping their tentacles around our legs.
Only for the space-suits, we should have, by this time, been overpowered
and torn into bits--and yet these garments could not be expected to hold
indefinitely.
* * * * *
But at last there was a breathing space. The crippled front ranks
dragged themselves away, and there was left around us a brief area of
sand, covered with coruscating splinters of glass. Garth got the breath
to say something or other encouraging. It was like old days at school.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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