There were no artificial weapons available in Rax save of one type—that slim hunting spear made of fish-bone—the spear with which the King’s attendant had struck me down when first I was being brought to Rax. These spears were all the Prince and I had had for our hunting expeditions. Other weapons? The Marinoids had had them in times gone by. But once—a lifetime before—civil war had broken out between two of the Marinoid cities; and when it was over all weapons save the simple spear, were abolished. There seemed no need of weapons. There was practically no wild life in Marinoid waters. The monster that had once come to devour them was a fable out of the distant past. And so they lived on in a false security making themselves defenseless so that they would not be tempted to fight; and forgetting that their very defenselessness must prove an irresistible temptation for some enemy to attack them! We organized our meager, pitiful little rescue party. Led by Caan and me—with Caan’s wife to care for Boy while we were gone—there were no more than fifty of us in total. Then, quite without warning, Prince Atar signified his intention of joining us—commanding us in person. Can you guess the joy it brought to my heart? Our Prince, disregarding even the commands of his father, was coming with us! Atar—for so I called him now in the intimacy which had come between us—was younger than myself. A slim, clear-featured youth, with a boyish smile, but eyes which had in them the look of one born to command. And Caan—a man past the zenith of his life, whose arms were no longer limber with youth but with a body strong and sturdy nevertheless. With these two to help me I felt that I could conquer whatever strange creatures we might encounter—and get my Nona back. Our party was no more than together, when Atar announced we were making a mistake. There were fifty of us, practically unarmed. We were too large a party to go anywhere in secret; we would, by our very numbers, be but provoking an attack. * * * * * Atar’s plan, in brief, was that he, Caan and myself, should slip quietly into the Water of Wild Things and see what conditions were there. Then, perhaps without ever having been seen or forcing an encounter, we could return and plan an expedition in greater force—a force sufficiently great to insure success. To me, whose one and only desire was to follow Nona and get her back, the Prince’s words seemed rational indeed. What did I care for the safety of those other Marinoid girls who had been stolen? The Prince, nevertheless, was right from every angle, and so it was decided that we three should go alone. I shall never forget the scene as the Prince parted from his mother on the roof-top of the Palace. We were going to what everyone considered almost certain death. We would go, and they would never see or hear from us again.