"They only look like sticks," said Jack.
Mr. Roumann, by signs and motions, indicated that he and his companions would like to travel along the narrow path to the hills. The leading Martian, who was dressed like the officer at the lamp–post, while the others were less elaborately arrayed, shook his head. His big mouth broke into a smile, however, as if he wanted to be good–natured about it.
"He doesn't want us to go," said the professor.
"Evidently not, but we're going just the same," retorted Mr. Roumann. "We're more than a match for twenty of these little creatures, and there are only ten here. Come on."
"Do you think it will be safe?" inquired Mr. Henderson.
"Of course. They can't harm us."
The German scientist took a step forward. The others were about to follow him when the leading Martian uttered a command, and his men pointed their sticks at the travelers.
"Look out! Dey's goin' t' shoot!" exclaimed Washington, stooping down.
"They can't shoot with those things," declared Mr. Roumann, for there seemed to be no mechanism about the sticks.
They all pressed forward, but to their surprise it was just as if they had met with an invisible stone wall. They could not advance a step farther. They were halted by some strange power, and it appeared to come from the sticks, which the Martians kept pointed at the strangers.