was their way of showing
appreciation."

Their further explorations of the lowlands revealed no minerals--nothing
but alluvial material of unknown depth--and there was no reason to stay
longer except that return to the caves was impossible until spring came.
They built attack-proof shelters in the trees and settled down to wait
out the winter.

They started north with the first wave of woods goats, nothing but lack
of success to show for their months of time and effort.

When they were almost to the caves they came to the barren valley where
the Gerns had herded the Rejects out of the cruisers and to the place
where the stockade had been. It was a lonely place, the stockade walls
fallen and scattered and the graves of Humbolt's mother and all the
others long since obliterated by the hooves of the unicorn legions.
Bitter memories were reawakened, tinged by the years with nostalgia,
and the stockade was far behind them before the dark mood left him.

The orange corn was planted that spring and the number of prospecting
parties was doubled.

The corn sprouted, grew feebly, and died before maturity. The
prospecting parties returned one by one, each to report no success. He
decided, that fall, that time was too precious to waste--they would have
to use the alternate plan he had spoken of.

He went to George Ord and asked him if it would be possible to build a
hyperspace transmitter with the materials they had.

"It's the one way we could have a chance to leave here without a ship of
our own," he said. "By luring a Gern cruiser here and then taking it
away from them."

George shook his head. "A hyperspace transmitter _might_ be built, given
enough years of time. But it would be useless without power. It would
take a generator of such size that we'd have to melt down every gun,
knife, axe, every piece of steel and iron we have. And then we'd be five
hundred pounds short. On top of that, we'd have to have at least three
hundred pounds more of copper for additional wire."

"I didn't realize it would take such a large generator," he said after a
silence. "I was sure we could have a transmitter."

"Get me the metal and we can," George said. He sighed restlessly and
there was almost hatred in his eyes as he looked at the inclosing walls
of the cave. "You're not the only one who would like to leave our
prison. Get me eight hundred pounds of copper and iron and I'll make the
transmitter, some way."

Eight hundred pound