to think of,
that they might not brood too long and deeply on their situation and the
life of exile they were facing.

* * * * *

For Kreiss this was not necessary. In Herr Kreiss, it seemed, were the
qualities of the stoic. They were exiled--that was a fact; Herr Kreiss
accepted it and put it aside. For, about him, were countless things
animate and inanimate of this new world, things which must be taken into
his thin hands, examined, classified and catalogued in his mind.

In the rocky outcrop at the top of their knoll he had found a cave with
which this rock seemed honeycombed. Here, within the shelter of the
barricade, he had established what he called very seriously his
"laboratory." And here he brought strange animals from the
jungle--flying things that were more like bats than birds, yet colored
gorgeously. Chet found him one day quietly exultant over a wrinkled
piece of parchment. He was sharpening a quill into a pen, and a
cup-shaped stone held some dark liquid that was evidently ink.

"So much data to record," he said. "There will be others who will follow
us some day. Perhaps not during our lifetime, but they will come. These
discoveries are mine; I must have the records for them.... And later I
will make paper," he added as an afterthought; "there is papyrus growing
in the lake."

But on the whole, Kreiss kept strictly to himself. "He's a lone wolf,"
Chet told the others, "and now that he is bringing in those heavy loads
of metals he is more exclusive than ever: won't let me into the back end
of his cave."

"Does he think we will steal his gold?" Harkness asked moodily. "What
good is gold to us here?"

"He may have gold," Chet informed him, "but he has something more
valuable too. I saw some chunks that glowed in the dark. Rotten with
radium, he told me. But even so, he is welcome to it: we can't use it.
No, I don't think he suspects us of wanting his trophies; he's merely
the kind that flocks by himself. He was having a wonderful time today
pounding out some of his metals with a stone hammer; I heard him at it
all day. He seems to have settled down in that cave for keeps."

* * * * *

Harkness threw another stick across the fire; its warmth was unneeded,
but its dancing flames were cheering.

"And that is something we must make up our minds about," he said slowly:
"are we to stay here, or should we move on?"

He dropped to the ground