As rympth is the name of the four-legged snake of Va-nah, the inner lunar world, and considered the lowest and most disgusting of created things, she could not well have applied a more opprobrious epithet to the No-van chieftain, but if it had been her intent to affront him, his expression gave no indication that she had succeeded. “Your name?” he asked. “Nah-ee-lah,” she replied. “Nah-ee-lah,” he repeated, “Ah, you are the daughter of Sagroth, Jemadar of Laythe.” She nodded in indifferent affirmation, as though aught he might say was a matter of perfect indifference to her. “What do you expect us to do with you?” asked Ga-va-go, a question which suggested a cat playing with a mouse before destroying it. “What can I expect of the Va-gas, other than that they will kill me and eat me?” she replied. A roar of savage assent arose from the creatures surrounding her. Ga-va-go flashed a quick look of anger and displeasure at his people. “Do not be too sure of that,” he snapped. “This be little more than a meal for Ga-va-go alone. It would but whet the appetite of the tribe.” “There are two more,” suggested a bold warrior, close beside me, pointing at me and at Orthis. “Silence!” roared Ga-va-go. “Since when did you become chief of the No-vans?” “We can starve without a chief,” muttered the warrior who had spoken, and from two or three about him arose grumblings of assent. Swift, at that, Ga-va-go reared upon his hind feet, and in the same motion, drew and hurled his spear, the sharp point penetrating the breast of the malcontent, piercing his heart. As the creature fell, the warrior closest to him slit his throat, while another withdrew Ga-va-go’s spear from the corpse, and returned it to the chief. “Divide the carcass among you,” commanded the chief, “and whosoever thinks that there is not enough, let him speak as that one spoke, and there shall be more flesh to eat.” Thus did Ga-va-go, chief of the No-vans, hold the obedience of his savage tribesmen. There was no more muttering then, but I saw several cast hungry eyes at me—hungry, angry eyes that boded me no good. In what seemed an incredibly short space of time, the carcass of the slain warrior had been divided and devoured, and once again we set out upon the march, in search of new fields to conquer, and fresh flesh to eat.