Down below, the bat had smashed a wide area of trees and was hunting Greeno and Karen like mice in the tall grass. When it heard the plane, it twisted up, circled suspiciously. The tree and the cable confused it for a moment. But only for a moment. Then its tiny brain sent it toward its persistent enemy, the plane. It came by so close and its hairy mass was so immense, Flint caught his breath. There was nothing to aim at with a pistol. It was too big. He just pointed the gun at the expanse of hair and pulled the trigger as fast as he could work his finger. Instantly, one great wing of the creature went rigid. It was the wing nearest Flint and the bat slid that way. The black mass of hair, each hair a full yard long, swept upon him. The branches of the tree caved in. The cable was snatched from the plane. Flint clawed at the monster's side blindly. He caught a handful of hair. The bat flailed the air wildly with its other wing, a hundred tons of solid flesh falling-- Then the whole world exploded around Flint. Tree trunks cracking, green vegetation whirling past him, then a stunning thud as the bat struck the ground, shaking the whole forest. Like a man fleeing some horror in a nightmare, Flint tore his way through the stalks of hair, leaped to the ground and ran into the jungle. When he finally stopped running, safely away from the bat's hammering wings and claws, he saw he was now permanently safe. It had beaten its good wing to shreds in the trees. When the effect of the ice gun wore off, it wouldn't be able to fly. Slowly, Flint grinned. He glanced down, saw his ice pistol dangling the length of its wire against his knee. Almost tenderly, he picked it up, untied the wire, and stuck the gun into its holster. Greeno and Karen ran toward him through the woods. Their faces were scratched, their clothes in tatters. Karen's feet were bare; she had lost her shoes, removed her stockings. Her hair was tangled, a raven mop on her half-bare shoulders. She seemed on the verge of collapse but her cheeks and eyes, despite the weariness of her grim experience, glowed. Today's excitement had completely displaced her cultivated pose of boredom by the fresh beauty of a jungle flower. And it had done something to Flint too. He ran to meet them, caught the girl as she fell toward him. "Are you all right?" She was too breathless to speak. "We all right," Greeno said. "But almost weren't." He held out his arm. From shoulder to wrist was a wide deep scratch, a claw mark. Then the sudden sound of rockets turned all their faces skyward. High over the trees, circling lower, came three patrol planes and Flint's ship.