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He wrote reams of notes on the parchment paper used by the citizens in recording their transactions. Particularly was he interested in the vast, lowly mound-fish. One time, when I happened to be with him, the receding waters of the chamber disclosed the body of one of the odd herdsmen of these deep sea flocks. Then the Professor's elation knew no bounds. We hurried forward to look at it.
They, too, preyed on the mound-fish; but as there was plenty of food for all, the Zyobites had never paid much attention to them. But just before we had appeared, there had come about a subterranean quake that changed the entire complexion of matters in Penguin Deep.
Every able-bodied Zyobite was mustered against the cold-blooded Things that pressed so near. The arms of these desperate fighters were pitiful compared to our own war weapons. With no need in the city for fighting engines, none had ever been developed. Now the best that could be had was a sort of ax, used for dissecting the mound-fish, and various knives fashioned for peaceful purposes.
Such was the situation at the time Stanley, the Professor and myself arrived in Zyobor. The Quabos must find an immediate haven or perish. On the ocean bottom they were threatened by the mound-fish. In the higher levels they were in danger from almost everything that swam: few things were so defenceless as themselves after their long inertia. Their answer was Zyobor.
The vast army of mound-fish provided the bulk of the population's food, and also furnished the thick, pliant skin they used for clothing and drapes. They were cultivated as we cultivate cattle an ominous herd, to be handled with care and approached by the fish-servants with due caution.
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