id as if he hadn't heard.

But the strangeness of Coulora tempered bad feelings then. The blue
_hensorr_ trees were actually not trees at all but a huge cat-tail-like
growth, the stalks of which were quite transparent. In between the
stalks grew curious cabbage-like plants that changed from red to yellow
as an intruder approached and back to red again after he had passed.
Rock outcroppings were everywhere, but all were eroded and in places
polished smooth as glass.

There was a strange kind of dust that acted as though endowed with life.
It quivered when trod upon, and the outline of our footsteps slowly
rose into the air, so that looking back I could see our trail floating
behind us in irregular layers.

Above us the star that was this planet's sun shown bright but faintly
red as if it were in the first stages of dying. The air though thin was
fit to breathe, and we found it unnecessary to wear space suits. We
marched down the corridors of _hensorr_ trees, until we came to an open
spot, a kind of glade. And that was the first time Mason tuned his
organic surveyor and received absolutely nothing.

There was no animal life on Coulora!

* * * * *

Within an hour we had blasted off again. The forward-impact delivered by
the Ganeth-Klae booster was terrific, and nausea and vertigo struck us
all simultaneously. But again, with all ports and observation shields
sealed shut, Norris held the secret of our destination.

On July twenty-second, the ship gave that sickening lurch and came once
again to a standstill.

"Same procedure as before," Norris said, stepping out of the airlock.
"Those of you who desire to have their wives accompany you may do so.
Mason, you'll make a final correlation on the organic surveyors. If
there is no trace of animal life return here before dark."

Once our group was out of sight of the ship, Mason threw down his
packsack, sat down on a boulder and lighted a cigarette.

"Bagley," he said to me, "has the Old Man gone loco?"

"I think not," I said, frowning. "He's one of the most evenly balanced
persons I know."

"Then he's hiding something," Mason said. "Why else should he be so
concerned with finding animal life?"

"You know the answer to that," I said. "We're here to colonize, to start
a new life. We can't very well do that on a desert."

"That's poppycock," Mason replied, flinging away his cigarette. "When
the Albertson expedition first landed on Mars