"Lord above!" ejaculated the major, squinting through his binoculars.


"Astonished, eh?" demanded the Master, smiling with malice. "Didn't
think it would work, did you? Well, which do you choose now,
Major--bullets or vibrations?"

"This--this is extraordinary!" exclaimed Bohannan. His glasses
traveled to and fro, sweeping the fringelike fan of the attackers,
still five or six miles away. "Faith, but this is--"

The binoculars lowered slowly, as Bohannan watched a falling plane.
Everywhere ahead there in the brazier of the dawn, as the two men
stood watching from the wind-lashed gallery of the on-roaring liner,
attackers were dropping. All along the line they had begun to fall,
like ripe fruit in a hurricane.

Not in bursts of flame did they go plunging down the depths, gyrating
like mad comets with long smoke-trailers and redly licking manes of
fire. Not in shattered fragments did they burst and plumb the abyss.
No; quite intact, unharmed, but utterly powerless they fell.

Some spiraled down, like dead leaves twirling in autumnal breezes,
with drunken yaws and pitches. Others in long slants volplaned toward
the hidden sea, miles below the cloud-plain. A few pitched over and
over, or slid away in nose-dives and tail-spins. But one and all, as
they crossed what seemed an invisible line drawn out there ahead of
the onrushing Eagle of the Sky, bowed to some mysterious force.

It seemed almost as if _Nissr_ were the center of a vast sphere that