"Why won't the Centaurs follow us into the hills?" he panted. "Too rough. They're like horses," she said. "Nothing but a goat could get around in the hills." The gulley, he saw, was deepening into a respectable canyon, then a gorge. In half a mile, the walls towered above them. A narrow ribbon of sky was visible overhead. Yellow fern-like plants sprouted from the crevices and floor of the canyon. They flushed a small furry creature from behind a bush. As it sped away, it resembled a cottontail of Earth. The girl whipped back her arm, flung the spear. It transfixed the rodent. She picked it up, tied it to her waist. Jonathan gaped. Such strength and accuracy astounded him. He thought, amazons and centaurs. He thought, but this is the year 3372; not the time of ancient Greece. The canyon bore to the left. It grew rougher, the walls more precipitate. Jonathan limped to a halt. High boots and breeches, the uniform of Universal's space pilots, hadn't been designed for walking. "Hold on," he said. He felt in his pockets, withdrew an empty cigarette package, crumpled it and hurled it to the ground. "You got a cigarette?" he asked without much hope. The girl shook her head. "We ran out of tobacco the first few months we were here." Jonathan turned around, started back for the space ship. "Where are you going?" cried Ann in alarm. He said, "I've got a couple of cartons of cigarettes back at the freighter. Centaurs or no centaurs, I'm going to get a smoke." "No!" She clutched his arm. He was surprised at the strength of her grip. "They'd kill you," she said. "I can sneak back," he insisted stubbornly. "They might loot the ship. I don't want to lose those cigarettes. I was hauling some good burley tobacco seed too. The colonists were going to experiment with it on Ganymede." "No!" He lifted his eyebrows. He thought, she is an amazon! He firmly detached her hand. The girl flicked up her spear, nicked his neck with the point of it. "We are going to the camp," she said. Jonathan threw himself down backwards, kicked the girl's feet out from under her. Like a cat he scrambled up and wrenched the spear away. A voice shouted: "What's going on there?" * * * * * He paused shamefacedly. A second girl, he saw, was running toward them from up the canyon. Her bare legs flashed like ivory. She was barefooted, and she had black hair. A green cloth was wrapped around her sarong fashion. She bounced to a stop in front of Jonathan, her brown eyes wide in surprise. He thought her sarong had been a table cloth at one time in its history. "A man!" she breathed. "By Jupiter and all its little moons, it's a man!" "Don't let him get away!" cried Ann. "Hilda!" the brunette shrieked. "A man! It's a man!" A third girl skidded around the bend in the canyon. Jonathan backed off warily. Ann Clotilde cried in anguish: "Don't let him get away!"