gather. By this afternoon we will
have enough men and doryms to pull the ship out of the swamp."

"I'll come," Jason said, pushing himself to a sitting position. The
effort exhausted him, bringing a wave of nausea. Only by leaning his
full weight against the wall could he keep from falling back. He sat,
propped there, until he heard shouts and the stamping of heavy feet
outside, and they came to carry him out.

The trip drained away his small store of energy, and he fell into an
exhausted sleep. When he opened his eyes the doryms were standing knee
deep in the swamp and the salvage operation had begun. Ropes vanished
out of sight in the water while lines of struggling animals and men
hauled at them. The beasts bellowed, the men cursed as they slipped and
fell. All of the Pyrrans tugging on the lines weren't male, women were
there as well. Shorter on the average than the men, they were just as
brawny. Their clothing was varied and many-colored, the first touch of
decoration Jason had seen on this planet.

Getting the ship up was a heart-breaking job. The mud sucked at it and
underwater roots caught on the vanes. Divers plunged time and again into
the brown water to cut them free. Progress was incredibly slow, but the
work never stopped. Jason's brain was working even slower. The ship
would be hauled up eventually--what would he do then? He had to have a
new plan by that time, but thinking was impossible work. His thoughts
corkscrewed and he had to fight down the rising feeling of panic.

The sun was low when the ship's nose finally appeared above the water. A
ragged cheer broke out at first sight of that battered cone of metal and
they went ahead with new energy.

Jason was the first one who noticed the dorym weaving towards them. The
dogs saw it, of course, and ran out and sniffed. The rider shouted to
the dogs and kicked angrily at the sides of his mount. Even at this
distance Jason could see the beast's heaving sides and yellow
foam-flecked hide. It was barely able to stagger now and the man jumped
down, running ahead on foot. He was shouting something as he ran that
couldn't be heard above the noise.

There was a single moment when the sounds slacked a bit and the running
man's voice could be heard. He was calling the same word over and over
again. It sounded like _wait_, but Jason couldn't be sure. Others had
heard him though, and the result was instantaneous. They stopped,
unmoving, where they were. Many of