Where the disk had been, gaped a tunnel slanting down into the earth, and lined with the same glistening white fibers which covered the bottom of the disk, and hinged it in place. As I looked, there sprang from this tunnel a _thing_ which I shall call a spider, yet which was too monstrous to be called by such an innocuous name. It was rust red in color, with eight bristling legs, each tipped with three curved and tufted claws. On each side of its face was an armored mandible, tipped with shining fangs, and beside them, slender, six-jointed palps stretched hungrily. The man who had seen the disk fly up opened fire without orders, and if he had not done so, some of us would not have returned to the ship. As it was, the atomic pistol whispered a steady stream of death which spattered the hairy body into an oozing pulp while it was still in mid-air. We leaped away, adding our fire to that of the alert guard who had first seen the apparition, and the spider, a twitching bundle of bespattered legs, fell on the spot where, an instant before, we had been. Almost at the same instant two other great circular trap-doors swung up, just beyond the first, and their hairy, malignant occupants leaped toward us. * * * * * Our pistols were ready, now, however, and the portable ray equipment was humming. The ray dissolved the first into a sifting of reddish dust, and our pistols slashed the other into ribbons. "Back to the ship!" I shouted. "Look, Mr. Correy--there are hundreds of them!" Before us score upon score of the great disks were lifting, and from the tunnel each revealed, monstrous rust-red bodies were pouring. Our retreat covered by the two ray operators, we made our way swiftly to the ship. The great spiders, apparently alarmed by the magical disappearance of those of their comrades upon which the disintegrator ray rested, hesitated for a moment, their tremendous legs tensed, and their mandibles quivering with venomous anger, and then scuttled back into their holes, swinging their covers into place as they did so. "We didn't do so badly, at that," grinned Correy rather breathlessly, as we gained the welcome shelter of the _Ertak_. "There are a score and more of those potlids still standing open--which means that many spiders didn't go back to tell about what happened to them." "True--but had they waited until they could have surrounded us, the _Ertak_ would have been short-handed on the return trip. She would have been just two officers and six men short." I have never seen a real expression of fear on Correy's face, but I came as close to it then as I ever did. "They're tough customers," he said. "I never did like spiders, and I like them less, now. Those things stood half again as high as a man on their long legs, and could jump half the length of the ship." "Hardly that," I said. "But I'll say this: if they're the gentry Inverness and the other two are investigating, they're welcome to their jobs!"