A thousand people. But soon it was obvious that they were far more numerous than that. All day they were appearing--growing from a tiny size. Hordes of them. By nightfall it was said that there were several thousand. Presently it was identified that the source of them was the Ferrule boathouse on the shore of King's Cove. The night of May 21-22 would have been moonlit, but the moon and stars were obscured by clouds. But the Togarites' territory was not dark. Floodlights of some unknown current brightened it with spots of yellow from wire grids which the giants set up at intervals. The lighting systems of the captured towns were out of commission, but the Togarites quite evidently had their own power. A weird scene of activity by night. There were camp fires everywhere. The area was thronged with the arriving enemy. Unearthly, fantastic scene! It was an encampment of little people, patrolled by watchful giants. By the morning of the twenty-second, the Togarite lines had spread. A single giant--five hundred feet tall perhaps--made a rush southward. As though to clear the territory, he ran toward Portland--came to its outskirts, stopped and strode back. There had been an exodus from Portland the day before, and few were left in the city. The giant did not enter. He went back the way he had come--along the coast--leaving a trail of devastated towns in his wake. I think that this giant may have been Togaro himself, for the reports said that he wore a belt of drugs--and several times was observed to change his size. His foray was doubtless to make sure that the territory southward was clear of inhabitants. Then his lines came down. The giants marched calmly along the coast--with a similar line of them some ten miles inland. The city of Portland was occupied by the Togarites on the 23rd of May. It was an orderly advance, made during the night. The next day, the lines again moved southward. I find it difficult in these limited pages, to portray a broad enough picture. A myriad abnormal events were taking place throughout the world. I can only sketch them at random. The organized dissemination of news, for which our age is famous, proved now a grave menace to public safety. The giants, in those first few days, probably actually killed not more than a few hundred people. But the broad-casted news that giants were upon earth--human enemies capable of growing to limitless size--that fact publicly known was responsible for the death of many thousands. There were panics--street crowds trampling their fellows--thousands of miles from any giants. A disorganization of all normal activity. But it was worst, of course, in eastern Canada, and the Atlantic seaboard of the United States. In New England it was chaos. A flight, with cities abandoned, roads thronged with refugees, transportation overloaded.