The lion, meanwhile, had seen Nils with his weak eyes and was coming toward him. Nils held up his pistol and took steady aim. He waited until he could quite easily see that the lion did, in fact, lack an ear. And then he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. This occasionally occurred. The pistols were very intricate mechanisms, designed so that none of the liquid atmosphere could get into them at the same time that the bullet got out. And like all intricate mechanisms, occasionally they went wrong. The air lion was coming closer, hurtling through the liquid air now with strong beats of his powerful flippers. Nils pulled the trigger again. And again nothing happened. He could feel the sweat running down his face. The lion was looming larger now; it was almost upon him. Nils could see the creature's ugly, yellow eyes. He pulled the trigger a third time. One of the eyes suddenly disappeared, to be replaced by a hole, from which a yellow fluid poured. But the impact of the bullet had not stopped the momentum of the lion. The body fell into Nils with a sudden jerk. Nils dropped suddenly, then stopped with a wrenching snap. "What's the matter?" Petrone said in his earphones. Nils assessed the damage. "I've broken my cable," he said. "I've still got the air hose and radio wire." Petrone swore softly in Italian. Nils changed the subject. "Get the harpoon about four feet lower, quick. I don't want to lose this baby." The harpoon came down within his grasp, and he impaled the dead air lion on it. "Okay," Nils said "haul him up." * * * * * The pale shape of the lion began to rise above him. The idea came to him of attempting to grab hold of the lion so as to be pulled up with it. One of the men in his predicament had tried that once; the harpoon cable had broken and both man and lion had been lost. No, there was nothing to do but wait--and pray. Nils dangled there, in the atmosphere, like a marionette on a single string. Well, he thought, this may be the end. He tried to puzzle out why he wasn't frightened. Was it because he was still full of triumph from getting that seventh lion? Perhaps. But more likely it was because there was still a chance that he could be saved, and a man never gives up hope until he thinks that there isn't a chance any more. "Hold on, Nils," Petrone's voice said. "Everything's coming all right. We have to put a new cable on Kerr's drum, too, you know. But we'll have 'em both ready at about the same time, so that won't slow us down." "I think I'll drop my gun," Nils said. "It doesn't weigh very much, but it may make a difference." "And lose the company five hundred smackers?" Petrone asked. "Okay it's your salary they'll dock. I'd rather let the air lions get me." Nils chuckled. He worked the gun loose from his gauntleted hand--rather an awkward process, for the guns were designed to be held securely by heavy gloves. Then he released it and watched it plunge down. Down.