Casting another glance toward our pursuers I saw them floundering in the deep water of the channel, and it became immediately evident that none of them could swim. They were bobbing around helplessly as the current swept them down stream. Sometimes they floated on their backs, sometimes on their faces. "We haven't much to fear from them," I said; "they will all drown." "They cannot drown," replied the girl with a shudder. "I hadn't thought of that," I admitted. "But at least there is little likelihood that they will reach this shore; certainly not before they have been carried a long distance down stream. We shall have plenty of time to escape them." "Then let's be going. I hate this place. I want to get away from it." "I cannot go away until I have found Duare," I told her. "I must search for her." "Yes, that is right; we must try to find her. But where shall we look?" "She would try to reach the big river and follow it to the sea," I explained, "and I think that she would reason much as we would, that it would be safer to follow this stream down to the larger one inasmuch as then she would have the concealing protection of the forest." "We shall have to keep careful watch for the dead men," cautioned the girl. "If they wash ashore on this side we shall be sure to meet them." "Yes; and I want to make sure where they do come ashore, because I intend crossing over and hunting for Duare on the other side." For some time we moved cautiously down stream in silence, both constantly alert for any sound that might portend danger. My mind was filled with thoughts of Duare and apprehension for her safety, yet occasionally it reverted to the girl at my side; and I could not but recall her courage during our escape and her generous willingness to delay her own flight that we might search for Duare. It was apparent that her character formed a trinity of loveliness with her form and her face. And I did not even know her name! That fact struck me as being as remarkable as that I had only known her for an hour. So intimate are the bonds of mutual adversity and danger that it seemed I had known her always, that that hour was indeed an eternity. "Do you realize," I asked, turning toward her, "that neither of us knows the other's name?" And then I told her mine. "Carson Napier!" she repeated. "That is a strange name." "And what is yours?" "Nalte voo jan kum Baltoo," she replied, which means Nalte, the daughter of Baltoo. "The people call me Voo Jan, but my friends call me Nalte." "And what am I to call you?" I asked. She looked at me in surprise. "Why, Nalte, of course." "I am honored by being included among your friends." "But are you not my best, my only friend now in all Amtor?" I had to admit that her reasoning was sound, since as far as all the rest of Amtor was concerned we were the only two people on that cloud-girt planet, and we were certainly not enemies. * * * * *