]

"I do hope we're heading the right way," Professor Bernardi said,
_although who knows what is right and what is wrong any more_?

"Perhaps we aren't," Mrs. Bernardi mused, stroking Algol, who had
crawled into her lap. "Perhaps we will go drifting along endlessly.
Every sixteen days, it will get dark and every sixteen days it will get
light, and meanwhile we will continue floating along, never going
anywhere, never getting anywhere, never seeing anything but haze and
raft and river and each other." Algol wheezed in his sleep.

"Nonsense!" Jrann-Pttt said rudely. "I have a compass. I know the
direction perfectly well."

"And yet you let us think we were wandering about blindly." Miss
Anspacher gave him a contemptuous look. The captain pressed her hand.

"Since you seem to breathe the same air and eat much the same food that
we do, Mr. Pitt," Mrs. Bernardi changed her tack, "I suppose we'll be
physically comfortable on your planet for the rest of our lives. Our
children will be born there and our children's children, and eventually
they'll forget all about Earth and think it was only a legend."

"But you did expect to settle permanently on Venus, didn't you?" the
vine asked, bewilderedly. "Or for a long visit, anyway. So I don't
really see that it makes much difference if you go to Jrann-Pttt's Alpha
Centauri place. So much nicer to be living with friends, I should
think."

"But Alpha Centauri is so very far away," Mrs. Bernardi sighed. "There
wouldn't be much chance of our ever getting back."

"Look!" Mortland exclaimed. "The river's branching. Which fork do we
take?"

* * * * *

Jrann-Pttt, who had been dabbling his arms idly in the translucent
violet-blue water, withdrew them hastily as nine green eyes, obviously
belonging to the same individual, rose to the surface and regarded him
with more than casual interest. He consulted his compass. "Left."

"Contrarily!" the mosquito-bat suddenly squeaked, pointing a small rod
at his companions. "Rightward."

There was a stunned silence.

"Monster!" Mortland cried in reproach. "You can talk! How could you
deceive us like that?"

"Can talk," the creature retorted. "Me not intelligent life-form, ha!
Who talks last talks best. Have not linguistic facility of inferior
life-forms, but can communicate rudely in your language."

"Remember," Mortland cautioned, "there are ladies present."

"Have been lying low and laughing to self--h