"You should have seen the fool," Ro said. "Perched up there, waiting for me. What kind of a woodsman did he think I was?" He stooped and lifted the Oan's gun. His face grew grave as he did so. When he came erect, he was covering the white men. "Hold your weapons above your heads," he ordered. The Earthmen obeyed, puzzled frowns creasing their faces. "Now back to the sphere," Ro instructed. Marching in single file they returned to the metal ship. Ro signaled them to halt then and called to Na. She came into the clearing and stood at his side. "All right, into the sphere. All of you." "But why?" the professor protested. "What have we done? We're your friends." "Do as I say," Ro shouted nervously. Then translated his words into the thoughts. The professor obeyed, then Grimm. Carlson was the last to enter. Ro walked to the door behind him. "Take these guns with you," he said, as the young Earthman entered the ship. "We will not need them here. My people will return to their homes now and all will be as it was." "I understand," said Carlson. "There is no place for us here. We have brought nothing but trouble." He extended his hand. "I'm sorry." Ro accepted the Earthman's gesture of friendship. He held the white hand in his firmly. "You are a good friend," he said quietly. "Perhaps some day my people will grow up. Perhaps you will come again and we will meet you on equal terms. But now, our primitiveness, your science--there can be nothing but trouble. Make the others understand that. I will always remember you as friends. I wouldn't want our parting to be in anger." "They will understand, Ro." The Earthman closed the ship's door slowly. Ro walked away from the sphere. He stood at the edge of the clearing, his arm about Na's shoulder, and watched the many colored fire spit from the rear of the ship. He and Na waved as the great mass of metal from another world left the ground. They waved until their white-skinned visitors had disappeared. "Perhaps they will come again, when our people have grown up," Ro whispered sadly. There was a hint of tears in his eyes. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Coming of the Gods, by Chester Whitehorn