I had now been away from you nearly sixteen hours. I was worn out. I flew across the river, found a level plateau to the north. There was no sign of human habitation in the vicinity. Shutting off my Frazia motors completely, I descended and came to rest on the surface of the snow, in a time world forty-six thousand and eight years beyond our present. I ate a little and, dropping to the floor of the cabin, fell asleep. Unwise maybe, but I had to take a chance. At any rate, I awakened without having been disturbed. It was night again; I had slept some twelve hours. I flew upward, back over Manhattan Island, and threw the opposite proton current into its first intensity. I need not go into further details. My sensations were the same as before, though they bothered me less as I grew more accustomed to them. I came back through time. At intervals I stopped and examined the landscape. The wind was blowing almost continually from the north during all these centuries. I flew into it slowly, keeping my approximate position without great difficulty. I tried to hold myself near the south center of the island, and look northward. I was right in going back through time, I soon discovered. From close to the ground where I stopped once, I could see a rolling hill near by that had a familiar contour. I cannot describe it to you, but once I saw it from that angle, I knew it was in the landscape we had seen from the laboratory. Then I found the tree. There was no house. No snow, either, for I had chanced then to stop in a summer season. The tree was too small. I chose a ten years later time world, and watching the dials closely, descended at a period ten and a half years later. I had struck it exactly; it must have been within a week or two from the time world Father and I had observed. I had occupied some eight hours with this search. The dials had stopped now at twenty-eight thousand two hundred odd years. I was at that instant flying at an altitude of no more than a few hundred feet. It was again early morning, just after sunrise, and there was that familiar, snowy landscape we had seen from the laboratory. The house, with its enclosure and outbuildings, lay below me. I circled over it, staring down through the floor window. The Frazia motors are greatly muffled, as you know, but, even so, their sound carried down to the house. A figure came out into the enclosure, and stared upward at me. It was the girl--in a fur garment, but bareheaded--watching my plane. Before I could think what to do, three huge dogs, each of them the size of a pony, came leaping from one of the outbuildings and stood in a group, snarling at me with such volume and power that they made my blood run cold.