"Or that, once upon a time, with electric blasts, Azuria tried to swipe this earth clear of the peoples who resisted her. The whitish, or yellowish, or brownish peoples of Scotland, Ireland, Brittany ... built forts, or already had forts, on hilltops. Something poured electricity upon them. The stones of these forts exist to this day, vitrified or melted and turned to glass. "The stones of these forts are vitrified in no reference to cementing them ... they are cemented here and there, in streaks, as if special blasts had struck, or played, upon them ..." from "The Book of the Damned" by Charles Fort.--Ed.] Ramey Winters was chafing with inactivity. Now he growled, "All right! But even granting the Bow is a frightful weapon, why should that stop us if it is not charged?" "That is just the point," Sugriva told him. "It may be charged by now. There is no doubt but that the lord Ravana knows the manner of its fueling." "Manner? You mean it requires some strange kind of ammunition?" "Even so. That which must be fed into the operating chambers is a rare and obscure metal. I doubt that in all Chitrakuta there is sufficient of this precious element to charge the Bow a single time. But Ravana, having plotted this move for a long time, will have secretly stored fuel to gorge its lethal maw. We have no way of knowing, of course. But it would be suicidal to move against Ravana until we _do_ know." Red grunted, "Then we've got to find out, that's all! If he ain't got ammunition for the Bow, we've got to close in on him. If he has, somehow we got to get the Bow back. That right, Ramey?" But it was not Ramey who answered. The reply sprang from an unexpected source. From the _bonze_, Sheng-ti, who now moved forward thoughtfully. * * * * * This was a different Sheng-ti from him who had eked out a squalid existence in the labyrinths of Angkor Vat. The elderly priest was clean, erect; eyes which had once veiled lurking mists of insanity now gleamed with shrewd reason. "I am a man of peace, O my friends," he said. "Yea, even a priest of the very God of Peace. Yet much have I seen and learned in this strange world, much thought since my brain was swept clear of its fog by the lord Sugriva. "And methinks the Way of Peace, which is the way of the lord Sugriva, now trembles under the blows of the Way of Darkness. Surely my Lord Buddha would advise that in a time like this a man must make a choice. "So--mark ye! The Lord Ravana knows me not. I have been hid from his sight throughout the days of our stay here. My skin is yellow as that of the natives of these parts. Is there not some way in which I might gain entrance to Ravana's stronghold and there, perchance, regain the stolen weapon?" Sugriva said slowly. "That might be possible. Yes ... it _is_ possible...." "Where is this Isle of Lanka?" demanded Ramey hotly.