“You should have been with us, Virgillius,” he said, looking at me reproachfully. “It was a wonderful voyage. We started shortly after noon, our ship accompanied by a fleet. The strong, fresh breeze of the cloud plains was delightful after the intense heat of the city. We sailed straight north, expecting to reach the Ocstas about sun-down, but the committee erred when mapping out the route. This led over the battle-ground of the Octrogonas and Potolilis, and for three mortal hours we dipped, circled, fluttering like a great buzzard, watching an engagement between the warring tribes. Our captain, a most obliging fellow, slyly detached his ship from the others, which unaware, sailed peacefully on, but our traveling companions when learning the cause of delay immediately secluded themselves. The Centaurians, ahem! are cultured above war—and we had the whole deck to ourselves, occupying railing seats. It was a magnificent sight, Virgillius, magnificent! But warfare is pretty even on both sides of the globe. Here the chiefs, generals, lead in battle; their great armies are drilled to mechanical perfection, in action compact, a gigantic unit; and, boy, every last blessed one of them aimed and shot to kill.” Saxe. wondered how the principals escaped. “Looks bad for the aiming,” murmured Sheldon. The Octrogonas were the fiercest, but the Potolilis, more numerous, and though the young chief was superb, daring, he was gradually forced to retreat, which so enraged his army, discipline was trampled under. They rushed the enemy and both sides fought like beasts. “It was slaughter, horrible, yet differs not at all from what is going on continually in some portion of our world,” Saxe. growled. He scorned those “high-sniffing Centaurians,” for their “dastardly indifference,” and declared the extermination of the magnificent savage a crime. “For they’re killing each other off as fast as they can and the whole row over a couple of women!” Saxe.’s indignation gradually calmed in the soothing enthusiasm of explaining how he’d manage affairs were he the head of the nation, but when Sheldon and Saunders started in with a few suggestions his interest suddenly flagged and he decided the people over here knew pretty well what they were about, though things did not seem quite straight to him. Still the deep, far-sighted Centaurians were undoubtedly correct in their “aloofness,” and the war was no concern of ours anyhow. He didn’t believe the colored races would ever become civilized anyway, but Potolili was the shrewdest egotist he’d ever met, and Octrogona, the noblest ass. “And,” continued Saxe., “over civilized and savage alike glows the one great flaming religion; all worship the powerful, fiery God, and hostilities ceased the instant the sun went down. When we finally reached the Ocstas, it was glorious moonlight, but a glacial atmosphere; we had again invaded the frigid zone.”