The river flowed fast. Once or twice the plated back of a giant saurian was visible, but the water-reptiles did not attack, made wary, perhaps, by the bulk of the raft. There were other waterspouts, but the men soon became adept at avoiding them. Sometimes they drifted through fog, sometimes the mists were dissipated by winds, though not often. During one of the latter periods a faint droning drifted down from above. It was the worst possible timing, for the two larger moons were directly overhead, blazing down on the river. The stub-winged shape of a plane loomed against the starry sky. Brown said sharply, "Drop flat. Don't move." He forced Garth and Paula down. "No, don't look up. They'd see our faces." "They can't miss us," Sampson muttered. "There's fog ahead." The sound of the plane's motors grew louder. Abruptly there was a splash. Another. Something shattered on the raft. "Hold your breath!" Brown snapped. Garth tried to obey. A stinging ache had crept into his nostrils. His lungs began to hurt. The plane had spotted them--that was obvious. Sleep-gas works fast. Another soft crash. Garth scarcely heard it. He saw a stubby, cruciform shadow sweep over the raft, as the plane swooped, and then the wall of silvery fog was looming up ahead. Paula gave a little gasp. Her body collapsed against him. The fire in Garth's chest was blazing agony. Despite himself, he let breath rush into his lungs. After that, complete blackness and oblivion. IV Garth woke in reddish, dim twilight. Instantly he knew where he was, even before he sat up and saw the black boles of immense trees rising like pillars around him. The Forest! "About time," Captain Brown's toneless voice said. "That sleep-gas put you under for hours." Garth rose, glancing around. They were camped in a little clearing among the gigantic trees, and some of the men were heating their rations over radiolite stove-kits. From above, the crimson light filtered vaguely from a leafy roof incredibly far. The trees of the Black Forest were taller than California sequoias, and Jupiter-light reached the ground faintly, through the ceiling of red leaves that roofed the jungle. Paula, Garth saw, was lying with her eyes closed not far away. "She all right?" "Sure," Brown said. "Resting is all. We got away from Benson's plane--hit that fog-bank just in time. You'd passed out, so I took a chance and kept going. After we reached the Forest, I landed the raft and headed inland a bit. So here we are." Garth nodded. "That was wise. The river goes underground a half mile further. Any--accidents?" Brown looked at him oddly. "This might be Yosemite, for all the danger I've seen so far. It's a picnic." "That," Garth said, "is just why it's so bad. You don't see the trouble till after it's happened." He didn't explain. "Where's my kit?" "Here. Why?"