Thon-Smith's heartbeat quickened as he thought of the next sequence. He could hardly wait till the canal was beneath them, till the time came to guide the boat down to the argent sward that bordered the farther bank. He stepped lightly down to the soft turf and lifted Thejah Doris down beside him. He answered her questioning eyes: "A swim will refresh us, my princess. It will sharpen our senses and re-double our chances of eluding our persistent pursuers." "But I cannot swim, my chieftain." The externals did not call for a leer at this point; nevertheless, he had a hard time averting one. "Fear not, my princess," he said. "I, Thon Carther, will instruct you." They walked together to the bank and stood there hand in hand. Behind them, Droola leaped from the deck and went romping up and down the esplanade. The nearer moon was high in the sky now, and the farther moon was just beginning to show above the hills. "First," Thon-Smith said, "we must remove our accouterments. They will weigh us down in the water and make movement well nigh impossible." "All of them, my chieftain?" "Yes, my princess, all of them." She raised her hand to the gossamer thread that held her Martian equivalent of a halter in place. Abruptly the muffled thunder of padded toat hooves sounded in the distance. Her hand dropped like a stone. "The Tarks!" she cried. "Oh, my chieftain, the mortal enemies of my people are close upon our heels!" He choked back his disappointment. How could he have forgotten? He, the author, the creator! "Quickly," he said, seizing her arm. "Into the atmosphere boat. The canal will not stop them!" * * * * * By the time they gained the deck the foremost rank of the Tark horde had reached the opposite bank. The green warriors did not pause for so much as a second, but goaded their mounts into the water. Once in the canal, Tark and toat became as one, and the horde took on the aspect of a school of gigantic green porpoises, leaping in and out of the water with incredible swiftness, reaching the other bank in a matter of minutes. But by then Thon-Smith and Thejah Doris were rising once again into the night sky. The romping Droola discovered their departure just in time, and with a mighty leap managed to gain the after deck and scramble to safety. As soon as the craft gained sufficient altitude Thon-Smith threw it into fast-flight and aligned the prow with the canal bank. The cool night air became a cold wind and the countryside blurred beneath them. He maintained the speed till he was sure their pursuers could no longer overtake them, then he cut down to slowflight and returned his attention to Thejah Doris. She was lying on her side, gazing at him admiringly. Again he slipped his arm beneath her shoulders, but he had no sooner done so when Droola, still shivering from the wind of fast-flight, bounded forward and snuggled between them.