"You have saved our lives. We thank you." The great head nodded benignly, and after a thoughtful pause, that strange voice began. "My teachers have brought others before me to lecture, but always I know that they speak only as they are told to speak. You are different. I am glad that I saw you last night, or I would never know that you had come." He paused, evidently gathering his thoughts for the next foray into an unfamiliar language. Then he leaned closer. "Phobat Rau has spoken to you of my birth and life here?" Baker nodded, and then, realizing that Kazu could not see such a microscopic movement, he replied orally. "He has told us your story in detail. It is a marvel which we can yet scarcely believe. But the greatest marvel of all is that you speak our language, and comprehend so quickly." Kazu thought of this for a moment. "Yes, my teachers have done well, I think. I have studied the writings of many great men, but there is yet much that I do not understand. I think it is important that I understand, because I am so strong. I do not wish to use this strength for evil, and I am not sure that those whom my teachers serve are good. I have studied the words of the great Buddha, but now my teachers say that I am to appear as if I were Buddha. But that is an untruth, and untruth is evil. So now I hope that you will tell me the whole truth." Kazu stepped back a quarter of a mile, and then reappeared, dragging his four hundred foot chair. Sitting on this, he crouched forward until his face was hardly a hundred feet before us, and his warm humid breath swept over us like wind from some exotic jungle. Baker took a moment to marshal his thoughts, and then came forward, threw out his chest and began speaking as though addressing an outdoor political meeting. How long Baker spoke I do not know. He began by outlining history, contrasting the ideals of Buddha and other great religious leaders with the dark record of human oppression and cruelty. Kazu's vast face proved most expressive of his feelings as he listened intently. When Baker came to the subject of communism, he leaned over so far backward in his effort to be fair that I feared that he was overdoing it, and would convince the giant in the wrong direction. * * * * * When Baker was only part-way through his lecture, he remarked that some point in geography could be better explained by a drawing, but that obviously he could not make one large enough for Kazu to see. At this the giant laughed and pointed to his big leanto. "Come," he said, "you shall draw on a piece of glass and the light will make it great that I may see." We were thereupon transferred the mile distance to the building by a reversal of our previous route: up the ramp to Kazu's ample palm, a series of breathtaking swoops through space, and we were in the vast interior of the leanto.