f strange feet?_ He looked through the darkness into the
depths of the cave, his hand on his shock-beam. He was afraid to turn
his back on it.

_This is nonsense,_ he told himself firmly, _I'll just walk back there
and see what there is._

At his belt he had the small flashlamp, excessively bright, that was,
like the energon-beam shocker, a part of regulation equipment. He took
it out, shining it on the back wall of the cave; then drew a long breath
of startlement and for a moment forgot Ringg and his own pain.

For the back wall of the cave was an exquisite fall of crystal! Minerals
glowed there, giant crystals, like jewels, crusted with strange
lichen-like growths and colors. There were pale blues and greens and,
shimmering among them, a strangely colored crystalline mineral that he
had never seen before. It was blue--_No_, Bart thought, _that's just the
light, it's more like red--no, it can't be like_ both _of them at once,
and it isn't really like either. In this light--_

Ringg moaned, and Bart, glancing round, saw that he was struggling to
sit up. He ran back to him, dropping to his knees at Ringg's side. "It's
all right, Ringg, lie still. We're under cover now."

"Wha' happened?" Ringg said blurrily. "Head hurts--all sparks--all the
pretty lights--can't _see_ you!" He fumbled with loose, uncoordinated
fingers at his head and Bart grabbed at him before he poked a claw in
his eye. "Don't _do_ that," Ringg complained, "can't _see_--"

_He must have a bad concussion then. That's a nasty cut._ Gently, he
restrained the Lhari boy's hands.

"Bartol, what happened?"

Bart explained. Ringg tried to move, but fell limply back.

"Weren't you hurt? I thought I heard you cry out."

"A cut or two, but nothing serious," Bart said. "I think the hail's
stopped. Lie still, I'd better go back to the ship and get help."

"Give me a hand and I can walk," Ringg said, but when he tried to sit
up, he flinched, and Bart said, "You'd better lie still." He knew that
head injuries should be kept very quiet; he was almost afraid to leave
Ringg for fear the Lhari boy would have another delirious fit and hurt
himself, but there was no help for it.

The hail had stopped, and the piled heaps were already melting, but it
was bitterly cold. Bart wrapped himself in the silvery cloak, glad of
its warmth, and struggled back across the slushy, ice-strewn meadow that
had been so pink and flowery in the sunshine. The _Swiftwing_, a
monstro