ne nor the other, not the double
canoe of the Pacific which had transported warriors on raid from one
island to another, or the shield-hung warship of the Vikings. But the
Terrans were right in its purpose: That rakish, sharp-prowed ship had
been fashioned for swift passage of the seas, for maneuverability as a
weapon.

Behind the first nosed another and a third. Their sails were dyed by the
sun, but there were devices painted on them, and the lines of those
designs glittered as if they had been drawn with a metallic fluid.

"The castle!" Ashe's cry pulled their attention back to land.

There was movement along those walls. Then came a flash, a splash in the
water close enough to the lead ship to wet her deck with spray.

"They're fighting!" Karara shouldered against Ross for a better look.

The ships were altering course, swinging away from land, out to sea.

"Moving too fast for sails alone, and I don't see any oars." Ross was
puzzled. "How do you suppose...."

The bombardment from the castle continued but did not score any hits.
Already the ships were out of range, the lead vessel off the screen of
the peep as well. Then there was just the castle in the sunset. Ashe
straightened up.

"Rocks!" he repeated wonderingly. "They were throwing rocks!"

"But those ships, they must have had engines. They weren't just
depending on sails when they retreated." Ross added his own cause for
bewilderment.

Karara looked from one to the other. "There is something here you do not
understand. What is wrong?"

"Catapults, yes," Ashe said with a nod. "Those would fit periods
corresponding from the Roman Empire into the Middle Ages. But you're
right, Ross, those ships had power of some kind to take them offshore
that quickly."

"A technically advanced race coming up against a more backward one?"
hazarded the younger man.

"Could be. Let's go forward some." The incoming tide was washing well up
on the reef. Ashe had to don his mask as he plunged head and shoulders
under water to make the necessary adjustment.

Once more he pressed the button. And Ross's gasp was echoed by one from
the girl. The cliff again, but there was no castle dominating it, only a
ruin, hardly more than rubble. Now, above the sites of the saucer
depressions great pylons of silvery metal, warmed into fire brilliance
by the sunset, raked into the sky like gaunt, skeleton fingers. There
were no ships, no signs of any life. Even the vegetation which had