e forest, away from him.

"Surtur!" he said, under his breath. The next moment he marvelled at
himself for uttering the name. That mysterious being had not been in his
thoughts, nor was there any ostensible connection between him and the
drumming.

He began to reflect--but in the meantime the sounds were travelling
away. Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The drum
beats had this peculiarity--though odd and mystical, there was nothing
awe-inspiring in them, but on the contrary they reminded him of some
place and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again
they caused all his other sense impressions to appear false.

The sounds were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for
five minutes, and then cease for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Maskull
followed them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge,
indistinct trees, in the attempt to come up with the origin of the
noise, but the same distance always seemed to separate them. The forest
from now onward descended. The gradient was mostly gentle--about one
foot in ten--but in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts
again it was practically level ground for quite long stretches. There
were great swampy marshes, through which Maskull was obliged to splash.
It was a matter of indifference to him how wet he became--if only he
could catch sight of that individual with the drum. Mile after mile was
covered, and still he was no nearer to doing so.

The gloom of the forest settled down upon his spirits. He felt
despondent, tired, and savage. He had not heard the drum beats for some
while, and was half inclined to discontinue the pursuit.

Passing around a great, columnar tree trunk, he almost stumbled against
a man who was standing on the farther side. He was leaning against
the trunk with one hand, in an attitude of repose. His other hand was
resting on a staff. Maskull stopped short and started at him.

He was nearly naked, and of gigantic build. He over-topped Maskull by a
head. His face and body were faintly phosphorescent. His eyes--three in
number--were pale green and luminous, shining like lamps. His skin was
hairless, but the hair of his head was piled up in thick, black coils,
and fastened like a woman's. His features were absolutely tranquil, but
a terrible, quiet energy seemed to lie just underneath the surface.

Maskull addressed him. "Did the drumming come from you?"

The man shook his head.

"