wing they were gripping me, swearing feebly. The unseen
hold angled; struck upward; clutched from ankle to thigh; held us
fast--men and beast.

Away swept the block that bore Ruth and Norhala; I saw Ruth crouching,
head bent, her arms around the knees of the woman. They slipped into the
mists; vanished.

And after them, like a log in a racing current, we, too, dipped beneath
the faintly luminous vapors.

The cubes moved with an entire absence of vibration; so smoothly and
skimmingly, indeed, that had it not been for the sudden wind that had
risen when first we had stirred, and that now beat steadily upon our
faces, and the cloudy walls streaming by, I would have thought ourselves
at rest.

I saw the blurred form of Ventnor drift toward the forward edge. He
walked as though wading. I essayed to follow him; my feet I could not
lift; I could advance only by gliding them as though skating.

Also the force, whatever it was, that held me seemed to pass me on from
unseen clutch to clutch; it was as though up to my hips I moved through
a closely woven yet fluid mass of cobwebs. I had the fantastic idea that
if I so willed I could slip over the edge of the blocks, crawl about
their sides without falling--like a fly on the vertical faces of a huge
sugar loaf.

I drew beside Ventnor. He was staring ahead, striving, I knew, to pierce
the mists for some glimpse of Ruth.

He turned to me, his face drawn with anxiety, his eyes feverish.

"Can you see them, Walter?" His voice shook. "God--why did I ever let
her go like that? Why did I let her go alone?"

"They'll be close ahead, Martin." I spoke out of a conviction I could
not explain. "Whatever it is we're bound for, wherever it is the woman's
taking us, she means to keep us together--for a time at least. I'm sure
of it."

"She said--follow." It was Drake beside us. "How the hell can we do
anything else? We haven't any control over this bird we're on. But she
has. What she meant, Ventnor, is that it would follow her."

"That's true"--new hope softened the haggard face--"that's true--but
is it? We're reckoning with creatures that man's imagination never
conceived--nor could conceive. And with this--woman--human in shape,
yes, but human in thought--never. How then can we tell--"

He turned once more, all his consciousness concentrated in his searching
eyes.

Drake's rifle slipped from his hand.

He stooped to pick it up; then tugged with both hands. The rifle lay
immo