Taking cognizance of the fact that we would much prefer to capture the machine in an undamaged state, but also of the fact that unless steps were taken it would very shortly hack me into small pieces, I aimed at the upraised weapon and pressed the firing button. The ray, at full power, struck the blade, which glowed red-hot and partially fused. The robot dropped it with a sharp exclamation of uncertain meaning, probably expressing considerable annoyance. In the meantime Zesmo had stepped to close range, and now he gave the metal man a considerably augmented dosage of the ray. With a hiss and crackle, the robot collapsed and gave us no more trouble. Zesmo had begun to examine the prostrate animal upon which it had ridden, with a view to resuscitation, then Ikleek, who had turned his attention to the robot, abruptly straightened up and began to rock to and fro in amusement. "Would you mind telling me what you're so happy about?" inquired Zesmo with pardonable acerbity. "Merely that we've all made a _very_ silly mistake," gurgled Ikleek, recovering a portion of his composure. He flipped a contemptuous tentacle toward the animal which Zesmo had been examining. "Intelligent creature, bah!" He began to rock back and forth uncontrollably once more. "Explain yourself," ordered Captain Tutwa sternly. For answer, the second in command bent over the "robot," and, wrenching off its metal head-covering, revealed the face of an unconscious living being. I need not describe the Earthman, since the form and appearance of this race have become familiar to all Martians from the photographs and descriptions which we brought back from Earth. I will only mention that this specimen was a male, and consequently was rather hairy about the lower portion of the face as well as on the top and back of the head. Zesmo made no comment, but popped his eyes in and out of his head at an expressive rate. "Here's your Earthman!" chortled Ikleek gleefully, tapping on the creature's metal chest-protector. "He's only wearing armor, a great deal like a spacesuit." "Maybe he'll die if you leave his helmet off," exclaimed Zesmo in alarm. I picked up the helmet and examined it. "His armor isn't airtight," I informed the company. "It must be worn for some other reason." We were all considerably puzzled by this, and determined to revive the Earthman as soon as possible, in order to question him on this subject and others. With some difficulty we carried him back to the ship. * * * * * Unable to use drugs, due to the possibility of essential differences between Earthly and Martian chemical constitutions, we were forced to resort to purely physical means for his resuscitation; but we were very shortly successful to the extent that the Earthman stirred, opened his lidded eyes, and sat up groggily--then, seeing us crowding about him curiously with waving tentacles and proboscides, uttered an insane yell and attempted to leave the ship at once.