"That is a pleasant outlook. I may lose my life, and I am certain to lose you. Under such circumstances, do you think that I will prosecute the search for Vepaja with much enthusiasm or diligence?" "Perhaps not with enthusiasm; but with diligence, yes. You will do it for me, because of that thing which you call love." "Possibly you are right," I said, and I knew that she was. The next day we started, in accordance with a plan we had formulated, to follow the little river down toward the big river along which we would continue to the sea. Where we should go from there was problematical. We decided to wait until we reached the sea before making any further plans. What lay before us we could not guess; had we been able to we might have fled back to the comparative safety of the gloomy forest we had so recently quitted with delight. Late in the afternoon we were taking a short cut across open ground where the river made a great bend. It was rather rough going, for there were many rocks and bowlders and the surface of the land was cut by gullies. * * * * * As we clambered up the bank of a particularly deep gully I chanced to glance back and saw a strange animal standing on the opposite rim watching us. It was about the size of a German police dog, but there the similarity ceased. It had a massive, curved beak remarkably similar to that of a parrot; and its body was covered with feathers; but it was no bird, for it went on four legs and had no wings. Forward of its two short ears were three horns, one in front of either ear and the third growing midway between the others. As it turned part way around to look back at something we could not see, I saw that it had no tail. At a distance its legs and feet appeared bird-like. "Do you see what I see, Duare?" I asked, nodding in the direction of the weird creature; "or am I suffering from a touch of fever?" "Of course I see it," she replied, "but I don't know what it is. I am sure that there is no such creature on the island of Vepaja." "There's another of them, and another, and another!" I exclaimed. "Lord! there must be a dozen of them." They were standing in a little knot surveying us when suddenly the one we had first seen raised its grotesque head and voiced a hoarse, wailing scream; then it started down into the gully and headed for us at a rapid gallop, and behind it came its fellows, all now voicing that hideous cry. "What are we going to do?" asked Duare. "Do you suppose they are dangerous?" "I don't know whether they are dangerous or not," I replied, "but I wish that there were a tree handy." "A forest does have its advantages," admitted Duare. "What are we going to do?" "It would do no good to run; so we might as well stand here and have it out with them. We'll have some advantage as they come up the bank of the gully."