n her knees while Dandtan examined his wounds.

"Why did you not tell us?" demanded Thrala.

He did not try to answer, content to lie there, her arms supporting him.
Dandtan disappeared into the forest, returning soon, his hands filled
with a mass of crushed leaves. With these he plastered Garin's wounds.

"You'd better go on," Garin warned.

Dandtan shook his head. "The morgels can not swim. If they cross, they
must go to the bridge, and that is half the crater away."

The Ana dropped into their midst, its small hands filled with clusters
of purple fruit. And so they feasted, Garin at ease on a fern couch,
accepting food from Thrala's hand.

There seemed to be some virtue in Dandtan's leaf plaster for, after a
short rest, Garin was able to get to his feet with no more than a twinge
or two in his wounds. But they started on at a more sober pace. Through
mossy glens and sunlit glades where strange flowers made perfume, the
trail led. The stream they followed branched twice before, on the edge
of meadow land, they struck away from the guiding water toward the
crater wall.

Suddenly Thrala threw back her head and gave a shrill, sweet whistle.
Out of the air dropped a yellow and black insect, as large as a hawk.
Twice it circled her head and then perched itself on her outstretched
wrist.

Its swollen body was jet black, its curving legs, three to a side,
chrome yellow. The round head ended in a sharp beak and it had large,
many-faceted eyes. The wings, which lazily tested the air, were black
and touched with gold.

Thrala rubbed the round head while the insect nuzzled affectionately at
her cheek. Then she held out her wrist again and it was gone.

"We shall be expected now and may pass unmolested."

Shortly they became aware of a murmuring sound. The crater wall loomed
ahead, dwarfing the trees at its base.

"There is the city of the Gibi," remarked Dandtan.

Clinging to the rock were the towers and turrets of many eight-sided
cells.

"They are preparing for the Mists," observed Thrala. "We shall have
company on our journey to the Caverns."

They passed the trees and reached the foot of the wax skyscrapers which
towered dizzily above their heads. A great cloud of the Gibi hovered
about them. Garin felt the soft brush of their wings against his body.
And they crowded each other jealously to be near Thrala.

The soft _hush-hush_ of their wings filled the clearing as one large
Gibi of outstanding beauty app