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As they walked onward through the apparently endless and unchanging forest, surrounded by what the Very Young Man called their "guard of honor," they were joined from time to time by other Oroid men, all of whom seemed to know who they were and where they were going, and who fell silently into line with them. Within an hour their party numbered twenty or more.
The Oroid stood patiently by and watched them with interested eyes as each took a tiny pellet from a vial under his arm and touched it to his tongue. When they began to decrease in size his eyes widened with fright and his legs shook under him. But he stood his ground, evidently assured by their smiles and friendly gestures.
After a moment others took it up, and still others, until it sounded from every side three Oroid words repeated over and over. The Chemist abruptly stopped fighting. "It's done," he shouted. "Thank God it's over." The cry continued. The little figures had ceased attacking now and were struggling in a frenzy to get through the tunnels. "No more," shouted the Chemist. "They're going. See them going?
"In Arite, to-night," she whispered, "Targo is organizing men to attack the palace of the king. Him will they kill then Targo will be proclaimed leader of all the Oroid nation." "We must get back," the Very Young Man answered in an anxious whisper. "I wish we knew where Loto was; haven't they mentioned him or any of us?" Aura did not reply, and the Very Young Man waited silent.
The Very Young Man and Aura laughed heartily as they stood ankle-deep in the water beside the boat, watching him. For nearly five minutes he ran; then suddenly he ducked inland and disappeared in the woods. When they were left alone they lost no time in becoming normal Oroid size. The boat now appeared about twenty-five feet long a narrow, canoe-shaped hull hollowed out of a tree-trunk.
Orlog withdrew from the Oroid government and is now handling its affairs as a separate nation." "I wonder " began the Big Business Man thoughtfully. "Well, why not let them run it that way, if they want to?" "No reason, if they were sincere. But they are not sincere nor honest fundamentally. Their leaders are for the most part Malites, or Oroids with Malite blood. And they are fooling the people.
No crowd gathered; those they passed stared a little, raised their hands to their foreheads and went their way, yet underneath these signs of respect there was with some an air of sullenness, of hostility, that the visitors could not fail to notice. The Oroid men, in street garb, were dressed generally in a short metallic-looking tunic of drab, with a brighter-colored girdle.
"I call a day, one complete cycle of sleeping and eating," the Chemist replied. "I suppose that is the best translation of the Oroid word; we have a word that means about the same thing." "How long is a day?" inquired the Very Young Man. "It seems in the living about the same as your twenty-four hours; it occupies probably about the interval of time of ten hours in your world.
During this time the young Oroid who had guided them down from the forest above the tunnels, had been standing respectfully behind them, a few feet away. A short distance farther on several small groups of natives were gathered, watching the strangers. With a few swift words Loto now dismissed their guide, who bowed low with his hands to his forehead and left them.
"For thousands of years, since the master life-giver had come from one of the stars to populate the world, the Oroid nation had dwelt in peace and security. These people cared nothing for adventure. No restless thirst for knowledge led them to explore deeply the limitless land surrounding them.
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