Cochrane saw a flash of fire and the short streak of a tracer-bullet's patch before it hit something. He heard the report of the gun. He heard a bellow of agony and then a scream of purest terror from Johnny Simms.
Then, from the ground, arose a truly monstrous tumult. Every one of the creatures below raised its voice in a horrible, bleating cry. The volume of sound was numbing—was agonizing in sheer impact. There were stirrings and clickings as of horns clashing against each other.
Another scream from Johnny Simms. He had moved. It appeared that he was running. Cochrane saw more gun-flashes, there were more shots. He clenched his hands and waited for the thunderous vibration that would be all this multitude of animals pounding through the night in blind stampede.
It did not come. There was only that bleating, horrible outcry as all the beasts bellowed of alarm and created this noise to frighten their assailants away.
Twice more there were shots in the night. Johnny Simms fired crazily and screamed in hysterical panic. Each time the shots and screaming were farther away.
There were no portable lights with which to make a search. It was unthinkable to go blundering among the beasts in darkness.
There was nothing to do. Cochrane could only watch and listen helplessly while the strong beast-smell rose to his nostrils, and the innumerable noises of unseen uneasy creatures sounded in his ears.
Inside the ship Alicia wept hopelessly. Babs tried in vain to comfort her.