My mailed hand seemed to go clean through him.  He smashed like—­like some softish sort of sweet with liquid in it!  He broke right in!  He squelched and splashed.  It was like hitting a damp toadstool.  The flimsy body went spinning a dozen yards, and fell with a flabby impact.  I was astonished.  I was incredulous that any living thing could be so flimsy.  For an instant I could have believed the whole thing a dream.

Then it had become real and imminent again.  Neither Cavor nor the other Selenites seemed to have done anything from the time when I had turned about to the time when the dead Selenite hit the ground.  Every one stood back from us two, every one alert.  That arrest seemed to last at least a second after the Selenite was down.  Every one must have been taking the thing in.  I seem to remember myself standing with my arm half retracted, trying also to take it in.  “What next?” clamoured my brain; “what next?” Then in a moment every one was moving!

I perceived we must get our chains loose, and that before we could do this these Selenites had to be beaten off.  I faced towards the group of the three goad-bearers.  Instantly one threw his goad at me.  It swished over my head, and I suppose went flying into the abyss behind.

I leaped right at him with all my might as the goad flew over me.  He turned to run as I jumped, and I bore him to the ground, came down right upon him, and slipped upon his smashed body and fell.  He seemed to wriggle under my foot.

I came into a sitting position, and on every hand the blue backs of the Selenites were receding into the darkness.  I bent a link by main force and untwisted the chain that had hampered me about the ankles, and sprang to my feet, with the chain in my hand.  Another goad, flung javelin-wise, whistled by me, and I made a rush towards the darkness out of which it had come.  Then I turned back towards Cavor, who was still standing in the light of the rivulet near the gulf convulsively busy with his wrists, and at the same time jabbering nonsense about his idea.

“Come on!” I cried.

“My hands!” he answered.

Then, realising that I dared not run back to him, because my ill-calculated steps might carry me over the edge, he came shuffling towards me, with his hands held out before him.

I gripped his chains at once to unfasten them.

“Where are they?” he panted.

“Run away.  They’ll come back.  They’re throwing things!  Which way shall we go?”

“By the light.  To that tunnel.  Eh?”

“Yes,” said I, and his hands were free.

I dropped on my knees and fell to work on his ankle bonds.  Whack came something—­I know not what—­and splashed the livid streamlet into drops about us.  Far away on our right a piping and whistling began.

I whipped the chain off his feet, and put it in his hand.  “Hit with that!” I said, and without waiting for an answer, set off in big bounds along the path by which we had come.  I had a nasty sort of feeling that these things could jump out of the darkness on to my back.  I heard the impact of his leaps come following after me.