A small patrol probably had been put out to protect the flanks of the main army, or even to look for us, since my approach probably hadn't been as concealed as I'd thought. Three Martians of this patrol had started toward me, joining "hands" as they charged. And behind them were a dozen others. _Chapter 16_ The Martians came galloping toward me, each grasping the extended trunklike appendages of the creatures on either side. I didn't notice now, but when I saw them in this kind of formation later, I noted that it was the second pair of appendages used for this particular business, the reason for which soon was to become apparent. They were about sixty feet from me when the Martian on the extreme left raised his second appendage, which of course was unattached to any other Martian. From the end flashed long, crackling flame, the nearest thing I'd seen to lightning since my last thunderstorm on the earth. It wasn't quite as good as a lightning bolt, however, because it fell short of my position by about six or eight feet. Now I knew why they grasped "hands." Each Martian was, for all practical purposes, an electrical cell, and the three of them joined together were in series. If one Martian could produce a hundred volts, three Martians could produce three hundred. This voltage is for illustration purposes, of course. I don't know how much they produced and quite probably it was more than one hundred volts, in view of what happened later. It may have been a thousand. But, although I knew the Martians were trying to electrocute me, I felt safe. My spacesuit had enough metal in it to carry a pretty good size charge to the ground and, since I was inside it, I could suffer no harm. I raised the rifle to fire and they flashed another jarring charge at me. This time it hit. The blue flame licked down the barrel of my rifle, shot to my suit and, as I expected, grounded itself through my boots. I felt no shock, but I noticed with alarm that my rifle was suddenly so hot that I felt it burn through my gloves. Then I realized the danger. They could, literally, cook me inside my spacesuit by making it red-hot. Before they could use their bizarre natural weapon again, I fired. The bullet hit the center Martian when he was less than thirty feet from me. He exploded as if he'd had dynamite for lunch and that broke the circuit. The other two Martians dug their feet into the ground and slid to a stop. As I lifted the gun again, their radar apparently detected the motion. They broke and fled, unashamed, back to their flanking patrol. I didn't shoot after them. I had only one explosive shell left, plus eighteen nonexplosive standard rifle shells. I might need 'em, I thought.