"Lord!" said Rusty. "No man ever crossed this part of the planet on foot!"
"Nobody ever escaped from Pluto either," said Spike. "Until ten minutes ago." He yanked Rusty to his feet.
Rusty looked at the dense wall of plants about them. There was barely room for a man to pass between the twisted trunks and vines. Overhead was the same thick mass of green. Faint light seeped through. But here was a single, tangible thing—something one could grasp with the hands, fight for life—a goal at the end. There was a hope! It was better than Pluto.
The others came up.
"What now?" said one of the Martians in his toneless voice.
"Cross jungle, cross sea," said Lothar.
"Let's get going," said Spike. He turned to the seemingly impenetrable growths surrounding them.
Rusty followed. His heart stopped.
A great white thing fell slowly in front of them. It dangled in mid-air. It was a spider—bigger than an Earthian cow. Green, checked eyes bulging, it hung from a thick strand of translucent material.
Spike sprang back as the monstrosity reached out a hairy tendril. Rusty stood hypnotized by the pale hideousness of the creature.