“The four Meevors have not yet risen, my son. In fourteen permos from now, they will be bright and shining. When they are at their full, they will draw that orb within our surrounding vapours. Then we must direct our light rays upon it, and draw it within our atmosphere. It is a wonderful thing, my son, and will aid us in our knowledge of science. My theory is, that it is a minute portion of the planet Quilphis itself. Oh, very small, hardly as big as the Rorka’s palace; but the knowledge of its composition will help us in our research. Take turn and watch with me, my sons, and at the right moment we will direct our Ray upon it.” Eagerly the students watched. The honour was great the Djoh had put upon them, and they were eager to be present when the light of the four full Meevors should shine upon the strange presence in the sky. “But the time the Kymo sinks to rest, my sons, the fourth Meevor will be at the full, and we will watch the developments with interest.” The three surrounded the little disc; the pale beams from the Meevors shone distinctly on the glass; there was a movement—the foreign body moved slowly toward them. “The Ray,” cried the Djoh. “Summon the Ab-Djohs.” Ten Ab-Djohs appeared at Waiko’s call. They were all dressed in the green tunic and vest and short cloak—the symbol of their calling as the highest astronomers in the land, bar one, the Djoh himself, who wore a voluminous cloak and tall, conical hat in addition. The wise men adjusted the focussing apparatus and directed the nozzle toward Wirmir and Kosli. A whirring noise sounded—and then suddenly shot out a most glorious ray. “When Kymo has risen but four thoughts, the orb will be here,” announced the Djoh. “Waika, go call Waz-Y-Kjesta. Tell him the Djoh has words of import to utter.” Soon Waz-Y-Kjesta appeared. He was a handsome man, fair-haired, long-limbed. He wore his blue toga as became him as Waz of the air birds, the vessels which were used by the inhabitants of Keemar to journey by the sky. “Fetch in that strange star, O Waz,” said the Djoh. “Bring it to earth, and I will await its arrival here.” Waz-Y-Kjesta bowed low. “Your will shall be done, my Djoh,” said he, and he went swiftly to the place where his air birds were housed. “Mashonia,” said he to his Waz-Mar, or Lieutenant. “Order out six air birds, we go on a mission for the Djoh.” In a very short space of time, six beautiful “birds” rose from the ground and skimmed toward their goal which was now approaching very rapidly. “My Waz,” cried Mashonia suddenly. “It is part of no planet that we are approaching. See, there is glass in front, and men like ourselves are looking toward us!” “They are like us, yet unlike us,” said Waz-Y-Kjesta. “They are habited in sombre clothing—they look dark and gloomy.” “Where can they come from?” asked Mashonia wonderingly. “All sons of Keemar would signal us. They are strangers from another world, I fear.”