nning.'"

"You cannot go back," she said. "It is forbidden. They would kill
you. Thus far have you come--there is no returning."

"But I must return," I insisted. "My people are there. I must return
and lead them in this direction."

She insisted, and I insisted; but at last we compromised. I was to
escort her as far as the country of the Kro-lu and then I was to go
back after my own people and lead them north into a land where the
dangers were fewer and the people less murderous. She brought me all my
belongings that had been filched from me--rifle, ammunition, knife, and
thermos bottle, and then hand in hand we descended the cliff and set
off toward the north.

For three days we continued upon our way, until we arrived outside a
village of thatched huts just at dusk. So-ta said that she would enter
alone; I must not be seen if I did not intend to remain, as it was
forbidden that one should return and live after having advanced this
far. So she left me. She was a dear girl and a stanch and true
comrade--more like a man than a woman. In her simple barbaric way she
was both refined and chaste. She had been the wife of To-jo. Among
the Kro-lu she would find another mate after the manner of the strange
Caspakian world; but she told me very frankly that whenever I returned,
she would leave her mate and come to me, as she preferred me above all
others. I was becoming a ladies' man after a lifetime of bashfulness!

At the outskirts of the village I left her without even seeing the sort
of people who inhabited it, and set off through the growing darkness
toward the south. On the third day I made a detour westward to avoid
the country of the Band-lu, as I did not care to be detained by a
meeting with To-jo. On the sixth day I came to the cliffs of the
Sto-lu, and my heart beat fast as I approached them, for here was Lys.
Soon I would hold her tight in my arms again; soon her warm lips would
merge with mine. I felt sure that she was still safe among the hatchet
people, and I was already picturing the joy and the love-light in her
eyes when she should see me once more as I emerged from the last clump
of trees and almost ran toward the cliffs.

It was late in the morning. The women must have returned from the
pool; yet as I drew near, I saw no sign of life whatever. "They have
remained longer," I thought; but when I was quite close to the base of
the cliffs, I saw that which dashed my hopes and my happiness to