He took Marlin down to a sheltered cove. "There's a type of clay formation--you get so you can spot it by the color--and where there's one chunk you'll usually find several. Look for them above the tide level. Most of those below that line have been dissolved away. Here's a sample." He took the small lump of clay--it seemed as hard-baked as earthenware--and immersed it in a pool. "It'll take some time. We might look for more." In the end, they deposited several of the fragments in the pool, and late in the day small objects began drifting to the surface. "The clay dissolves. Seems to be somewhat porous and the moisture seeps through to what's inside. Recognize this?" He fished in the pool and laid an inert insect on the bank. "Cricket," observed Marlin. "I remember--" His thoughts reverted to a small creature that someone--he could not quite recall who--had resurrected from the sticky ooze back in that shadowy interior. "This'll do the same," declared DuChane. "See. Its legs are twitching already. Here's something larger." He fished out a bedraggled bird. "Then this is how it all came about?" queried Marlin. He swept the landscape with an inclusive gesture. "These birds--squirrels--Link's cow and the bull. You and I?" "Sure thing. And the vegetation. The clay is rich in seeds. Everything that blew into that pit stuck." DuChane raked the surface of the water and held the gathered scum in his palm so that Marlin could see. "Seeds. Insects and larvae. Must have been washing out and drying and blowing over the landscape--taking root--for years." "How many?" DuChane shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I think we'll find that the shell broke up along this stretch of coastline and all the life of the planet is concentrated here. It must have commenced releasing the life it brought as soon as the water reached it." "But before that--how long--? The clay is hard as rock!" "Dave--that's something to think about. I've an idea it was terribly long. That earth of ours--for all we know man finished his evolution there--billions of our kind were born and died--while we lay in the chrysalis waiting for conditions to ripen. Worlds aren't finished in a day--unless you're thinking of cosmic days. Not even when it's a case of gathering up the debris of an asteroid belt and molding it into a planet--a New Earth." Marlin stared. His mind sought to envision the slow natural processes that would achieve such a result. "It's not hard to conceive," continued DuChane reflectively. "Earth scientists generally agreed that the original life spores reached our system from distant parts of the galaxy. When you think of the distances and eons of time they had to traverse, our little moment of suspended existence fades into insignificance." "You've been awake--longer than I have," Marlin confessed dazedly. "My rusty brain can't follow you." CHAPTER XVI