great civilization that flourished on this planet before
Egypt--before the Terran Egypt was even dreamed of."

Mike smiled fleetingly. "That's what you and your father have
believed, isn't it? So why be surprised?"

"It's just that--well, being so close to it--realizing it might
_really_ exist--"

Mike laughed. "I understand. But we're still a long way from it." He
turned to the Martian. "Come on, Nicko, let's get busy with this
stuff."

The portage was laborious and dangerous. It took the balance of that
day. Even when the sun set they had still not reached the termination
of white water.

They found an open area beside the racing river that would have been
covered during high water and Mike decided it would be a good place to
camp. While Mike broke out the supplies, and Doree prepared the meal,
Nicko stood on the alert with a rifle over his arm scanning the line
of undergrowth at the edge of the forest.

After all three had eaten, Mike directed Nicko to bed down in order to
be ready for the second watch. He urged Doree to sleep also, but she
insisted on sitting with him during his watch. And though her head
drooped several times, she remained with him and refused to sleep.

When Nicko took over the watch, Mike stretched out under his blanket
near Doree. He dozed off and was then awakened by a pressure against
his back. Doree, snuggling close. "It's cold," she murmured, and
drifted to sleep with a contented sigh. It was a calm, restful
slumber.

* * * * *

The sharp bark of Nicko's rifle awakened Mike after what seemed to him
only a few moments of sleep. He sprang up to find dawn breaking and
Nicko sending another shot into the undergrowth.

Mike grabbed his own rifle and ran to the Martian's side. "What's
wrong?"

Nicko lowered his weapon. "I saw four platoons of infantry charging
out of the brush--I think."

"In other words you think maybe you saw something. You don't know what
it was. It could have been nothing at all."

"All right. Have it your way," Nicko said serenely.

"Come on. Let's get going. We'll eat something on the raft."

* * * * *

But they never reached the raft. Mike's words had hardly been spoken
when the forest erupted with a mass of savagery. Several hundred tall,
screaming black men clad sketchily in brilliantly colored feathers and
paint.

Both rifles barked. Nicko's shot was high, but Mike brought the
foremost