"Let 'em have it!" cried Mr. Roumann.
Once more the electric cannons were fired, and thousands fell at each discharge of the powerful current.
But, in their turn, the Martians brought into use new weapons. First they hurled great rocks and chunks of lead at the projectile, but, as the missiles weighed only a third as much as they would have done on the earth, they only dented the heavy steel sides.
Finding that this would not answer, the little people created clouds of noxious gases, that swirled around the projectile like a fog. But this was harmless, as the adventurers could shut themselves in tightly, and breathe air of their own making. The gases had no more effect on them than did the ether through which they had traveled through space.
Meanwhile, the electric cannons were constantly being fired, and the ranks of the attackers were constantly being thinned. But, ever as the Martians fell, new ones arrived to take their places. They seemed determined to drive the newcomers off the planet or destroy them.
There was a lull in the fighting. The Martians seemed to be waiting for something. At last a large crowd was observed coming from the direction of the city. They carried great bundles of wood and torches.
"They're going to try to burn us out!" cried Jack.
"Good land a' massy!" yelled Washington. "Let me go! I ain't ready t' burn yet! No, indeedy!"
With shouts the Martians piled fuel all about the projectile. Then they set fire to it, and tongues of flame leaped up.
"Don't be alarmed," said Mr. Roumann. "We have passed safely through greater heat than they can produce. The gas in the projectile will absorb all the heat."