With a last glance at the dark mass of jungle, he climbed down the ladder to the cabin, flung himself into his bunk. He was awakened by the wild ringing of the alarm bell. * * * * * Jupiter Jones sprang from his bunk. It seemed as if his head had barely touched the pillow; but as he yanked himself through the well to the control blister above, he saw that night had fallen. The bluish pallor of the riding lights illuminated the instruments. Through the skin of the blister, he could see the black vault of the heavens sparkling with unfamiliar constellations. But that was all. The Mizar, itself, seemed to be lying in a vale of tar-like darkness. The clamor of the bell never abated. It drowned out any sound that might be coming through the amplifiers. He shut it off. As the ringing fell silent, he could hear coughing grunts. The hair on the nape of his neck rose like the hackles of a dog and he switched on the floodlights. Instantly the burn blazed with a fierce white illumination. He caught a glimpse of a dozen startled figures at the edge of the jungle! They were human--in shape at least--tall, kilted men with long red hair and copper colored features. Blinded by the light they stood in postures of frozen surprise. Staring out from the darkened blister, Jupiter Jones thought he'd never seen such feral savagery as was reflected in their expressions. Like--like mad wolves! They were armed with bows. Swords dangled from harness over their backs. Two of them carried a litter. A frown clouded Jupiter's face. The litter-bearers belonged to a different race. They were squat, naked, powerful brutes, their slick hides tinged a greenish cast. But it wasn't altogether that. The pair had a passive, resigned look like oxen. Like the beasts of burden they appeared to be, he thought. Probably a slave race. Then his whole attention was focused on the fantastic creature in the litter. It was no bigger than a large monkey. Eight spidery arms sprouted from its grotesque body which was covered with a glittering purple shell like a huge mollusk. Jupiter Jones noted these details almost before the creatures recovered from their surprise at the blinding light. His first impression of the purple-shelled octopod in the litter had been that it must be a captive. Then the octopod raised a silver tube to an orifice in its head, blew a single, piercing note. The two slate-green porters wheeled and bore the thing off into the jungle. The half dozen naked, copper-skinned warriors followed hard on their heels for all the world like a pack of fox hounds. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Lord, he thought; what was that thing? Could it have been the dominant life form? He switched out the floodlights, reset the alarm. His first exultation at finding a habitable and inhabited world began to give way to a gnawing distrust.