The villagers made way for the warriors and their prisoners and as the latter passed through the aisles thus formed many were the ugly looks cast upon them and many the expressions of hatred that they overheard, but no violence was offered them and presently they were conducted to a large hut near the center of the village. Like the other dwellings of the village of Lar, the floors of the chief’s house were raised a foot or eighteen inches above the ground. The thatched roof of the great, open living room, into which they were conducted, was supported by enormous ivory tusks of the giant tandors. The floor, which appeared to be constructed of unglazed tile, was almost entirely covered by the hides of wild animals. There were a number of low, wooden stools standing about the room, and one higher one that might almost have been said to have attained the dignity of a chair. Upon this larger stool was seated a stern faced man, who scrutinized them closely and silently as they were halted before him. For several seconds no one spoke, and then the man upon the chair turned to Vulhan. “Who are these,” he demanded, “and what do they in the village of Lar?” “We took them from a Korsar ship that was drifting helplessly with the ocean current,” said Vulhan, “and we have brought them to Zural, chief of the village of Lar, that he may hear their story and judge whether they be the friends they claim to be, or the Korsar enemies that we believe them to be. This one,” and Vulhan pointed to Stellara, “says that she is the daughter of Allara.” “I am the daughter of Allara,” said Stellara. “And who was your father?” demanded Zural. “My father’s name is Fedol,” replied Stellara. “How do you know?” asked Zural. “My mother told me.” “Where were you born?” demanded Zural. “In the Korsar city of Allaban,” replied Stellara. “Then you are a Korsar,” stated Zural with finality. “And this one, what has he to say for himself?” asked Zural, indicating Tanar with a nod. “He claims that he was a prisoner of the Korsars and that he comes from a distant kingdom called Sari.” “I have never heard of such a kingdom,” said Zural. “Is there any warrior here who has ever heard of it?” he demanded. “If there is, let him in justice to the prisoner, speak.” But the Amiocapians only shook their heads for there was none who had ever heard of the kingdom of Sari. “It is quite plain,” continued Zural, “that they are enemies and that they are seeking by falsehood to gain our confidence. If there is a drop of Amiocapian blood in one of them, we are sorry for that drop. Take them away, Vulhan. Keep them under guard until we decide how they shall be destroyed.”