THE GIRLS FROM EARTH By FRANK M. ROBINSON Illustrated by EMSH [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction January 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Problem: How can you arrange marriages with men in one solar system, women in another--and neither willing to leave his own world? I "The beasts aren't much help, are they?" Karl Allen snatched a breath of air and gave another heave on the line tied to the raft of parampa logs bobbing in the middle of the river. "No," he grunted, "they're not. They always balk at a time like this, when they can see it'll be hard work." Joseph Hill wiped his plump face and coiled some of the rope's slack around his thick waist. "Together now, Karl. _One! Two!_" They stood knee-deep in mud on the bank, pulling and straining on the rope, while some few yards distant, in the shade of a grove of trees, their tiny yllumphs nibbled grass and watched them critically, but made no effort to come closer. "If we're late for ship's landing, Joe, we'll get crossed off the list." Hill puffed and wheezed and took another hitch on the rope. "That's what I've been thinking about," he said, worried. They took a deep breath and hauled mightily on the raft rope. The raft bobbed nearer. For a moment the swift waters of the Karazoo threatened to tear it out of their grasp, and then it was beached, most of it solidly, on the muddy bank. One end of it still lay in the gurgling, rushing waters, but that didn't matter. They'd be back in ten hours or so, long before the heavy raft could be washed free. "How much time have we got, Karl?" The ground was thick with shadows, and Karl cast a critical eye at them. He estimated that even with the refusal of their yllumphs to help beach the raft, they still had a good two hours before the rocket put down at Landing City. "Two hours, maybe a little more," he stated hastily when Hill looked more worried. "Time enough to get to Landing City and put in for our numbers on the list." He turned back to the raft, untied the leather and horn saddles, and threw them over the backs of their reluctant mounts. He cinched his saddle and tied on some robes and furs behind it. Hill watched him curiously. "What are you taking the furs for? This isn't the trading rocket." "I know. I thought that when we come back tonight, it might be cold and maybe _she'll_ appreciate the coverings then." "You never would have thought of it yourself," Hill grunted. "Grundy must have told you to do it, the old fool. If you ask me, the less you give them, the less they'll come to expect. Once you spoil them, they'll expect you to do all the trapping and the farming and the family-raising yourself."