The scene in front of us was oddly weird and depressing; in some indefinable way--dreadful. Why, I could not tell, but the impression was plain; I shrank from it. Then, self-analyzing, I wondered whether it could be the uncanny resemblance the heaps of curious mossy fungi scattered about had to beast and bird--yes, and to man--that was the cause of it. Our path ran between a few of them. To the left they were thick. They were viridescent, almost metallic hued--verd-antique. Curiously indeed were they like distorted images of dog and deerlike forms, of birds--of _dwarfs_ and here and there the simulacra of the giant frogs! Spore cases, yellowish green, as large as mitres and much resembling them in shape protruded from the heaps. My repulsion grew into a distinct nausea. Rador turned to us a face whiter far than that with which he had looked upon the dragon worm. "Now for your lives," he whispered, "tread softly here as I do--and speak not at all!" He stepped forward on tiptoe, slowly with utmost caution. We crept after him; passed the heaps beside the path--and as I passed my skin crept and I shrank and saw the others shrink too with that unnameable loathing; nor did the green dwarf pause until he had reached the brow of a small hillock a hundred yards beyond. And he was trembling. "Now what are we up against?" grumbled O'Keefe. The green dwarf stretched a hand; stiffened; gazed over to the left of us beyond a lower hillock upon whose broad crest lay a file of the moss shapes. They fringed it, their mitres having a grotesque appearance of watching what lay below. The glistening road lay there--and from it came a shout. A dozen of the _coria_ clustered, filled with Lugur's men and in one of them Lugur himself, laughing wickedly! There was a rush of soldiers and up the low hillock raced a score of them toward us. "Run!" shouted Rador. "Not much!" grunted Larry--and took swift aim at Lugur. The automatic spat: Olaf's echoed. Both bullets went wild, for Lugur, still laughing, threw himself into the protection of the body of his shell. But following the shots, from the file of moss heaps on the crest, came a series of muffled explosions. Under the pistol's concussions the mitred caps had burst and instantly all about the running soldiers grew a cloud of tiny, glistening white spores--like a little cloud of puff-ball dust many times magnified. Through this cloud I glimpsed their faces, stricken with agony. Some turned to fly, but before they could take a second step stood rigid. The spore cloud drifted and eddied about them; rained down on their heads and half bare breasts, covered their garments--and swiftly they began to change! Their features grew indistinct--merged! The glistening white spores that covered them turned to a pale yellow, grew greenish, spread and swelled, darkened. The eyes of one of the soldiers glinted for a moment--and then were covered by the swift growth!