As we were starting down again after a rest, I heard a noise below us and looked over the edge of the ledge on which we stood to see what had caused it. "We are about to have our curiosity satisfied," I whispered to Duare. "Here comes the trail maker." "Is it a mistal?" she asked. "No, nor a mountain goat; but it is just the sort of a creature that might most easily cling to this vertical pathway. I don't know what you Amtorians call it. Take a look; perhaps you will recognize it." It was a huge, hideous lizard about twenty feet in length that was climbing sluggishly upward toward our position. Leaning on my shoulder, Duare glanced downward over the ledge. She voiced a low gasp of terror. "I think it is a vere," she said, "and if it is we are in for it. I have never seen one, but I have read of them in books and seen their pictures; this one looks like the pictures I have seen." "Are they dangerous?" I asked. "They are deadly," she replied. "We wouldn't have a chance against a vere." "See if you can climb back out of the way," I said to Duare. "I will try to hold it here until you are safe." Then I turned toward the creature crawling slowly upward. It was covered with scales of red, black, and yellow arranged in intricate designs. Its coloration and ornamentation were beautiful, but right there its beauty stopped. It had a head not unlike that of a crocodile, and along each side of its upper jaw was a row of gleaming white horns. Across the top and down the sides of its head sprawled a single huge eye of myriad facets. It had not discovered us yet, but in another half minute it would be upon us. I loosened a bit of rock near my hand and hurled it down, thinking I might turn the creature back. The missile struck it on the snout, and with a grunt it raised its head and saw me. Its great jaws opened and out shot the most prodigious tongue I had ever seen. Like lightning it curled about me and snapped me toward those gaping jaws from which was issuing a harsh screaming whistle. All that saved me from being instantly engulfed was the fact that I was a little too large a mouthful for the creature to negotiate with ease. I wedged crosswise of his snout and there I fought with all my strength to keep from being dragged into that rapacious maw. * * * * * It was a great slimy, toothless, sucking gullet that I struggled to escape. Evidently the creature swallowed its prey whole, its horns being probably solely for defense. From that repulsive throat issued a fetid odor that almost overpowered me. I think that it may have been a poisonous exhalation that was intended to anaesthetize its victims. I felt myself growing weak and dizzy, and then I saw Duare at my side. She was grasping my spear in both hands and lunging viciously at the horrid face of the vere. All the time she was moaning, "Carson! Carson!"