en we'll
talk a deal."

He wanted to ask for a drink, just one drink of tsith right now, but
Latham had learned the essential fact that there could be no
compromising with this man. He reeled away. His brief outburst had
left him weak and trembling. Nevertheless, he went stumbling toward
the looming wall of jungle.

He heard Penger's voice, a little annoyed: "Where are you going?"

Latham stumbled on.

"You fool, you don't know these jungles! You'll die in there! You
won't last an hour!"

Latham didn't look back. Penger didn't call again. Latham could almost
imagine the man's shrug of indifference.

Vision stopped five yards away. A soft glutinous muck, worse than the
outer swamp, tugged at his ankles. Corrupt fungi-growth and giant
spiked ferns reached far above him in the blanketing fog.

Penger was wrong! He wouldn't die in here. Latham knew where he was
going. Kueelo had told him of the gweel village a mere few miles away,
where the foothills came down to touch the jungle edge. Kueelo and the
Jovian had undoubtedly headed for there and planned to lie low for a
while; when the time was propitious, they would sneak back to the
outpost and make a deal with Penger for the Josmian.

The route was long and circuitous, hugging the fringe of jungle. The
gweels traveled it every day. But Latham had a better plan. By cutting
directly through the morass, he might just arrive there ahead of them!

He would arm himself somehow and wait ... the element of surprise ...
that's all he could hope for now.

He left the glutinous path, and to his surprise it wasn't so bad. The
growths towered many times higher but were not so dense. Occasionally
the sun evidenced itself against the paling of mists hundreds of feet
above. Lusty, primeval odors were almost an opiate to his senses.

He plunged on for some ten minutes before he began to doubt. Gradually
the gloom came alive with motion and sound and unseen terrors. He
tried to segregate those that might mean danger. There came first a
gentle whirring of wings through the mist, sweeping close above him
and away. There came a gentle ripple through the foliage beside him, a
slither of sound that kept pace endlessly.

Was this what Penger meant? Still Latham had seen nothing. He wished
he had his dis-gun, though.

He wished it desperately, as a heavier sound came near. A grayish bulk
charged directly across his path. It was monstrous, semi-reptilian,
with wings arched sinuousl