His captors were a coarse-looking lot of brutes, with long gangling arms, thickset necks, low foreheads, and prognathous jaws. In general, they more closely resembled the anthropoid apes of the earth than they resembled the really human, although furred Vairkings. Their weapons—wooden spears and swords, and flint knives—were like those of the Vairkings, only cruder. They marched without any particular order or discipline, and jested coarsely with each other as they ambled along. After taking in all this, Myles next turned his attention to the country through which they were passing. The trail led upward into mountains. This at once aroused his interest. Here and there he noted what he felt sure must be zinc-blende. Yes, and cropping out of the rocks on the left was an unmistakable rosette of galena crystal! The radio man was sincerely glad that he had been captured. And so he even joked jovially with the soldiers around him, until they became quite friendly. At one point, their route lay across a foaming mountain stream, by means of a log bridge. As they were crossing over, one of the furry soldiers had the misfortune to stumble, and in another instant completely lost his footing and plunged headlong into the stream below. He happened to be one who had recently become particularly chummy with the captive. “Poor fellow,” one of the guard casually remarked. “It’s too bad he can’t swim.” “_I_ can,” Myles shouted. “Quick, some one cut my cords!” And, before any one could interfere, a young and impetuous Roy had drawn his knife and severed the earth-man’s bonds, thus permitting him to dive after the poor creature who was rapidly being washed down stream by the swift current. It had all happened in an instant. A few swift strokes brought Myles up to the other. But it became no easy matter to reach the shore. However, the troop of Roies showed much more interest in regaining their captive, than they had shown in rescuing their comrade; and thus, by the aid of their spears, finally dragged the two ashore. Then Cabot was bound again, and the march resumed. The carts had detoured, and so the fat chief had not seen the episode. “Better not tell him, any one,” one of the guard admonished, “or it will go hard with the youngster. Our leader would not relish any chance of not being able to present this furless Vairking to Att the Terrible.” “And will Att shoot arrows into me?” Myles asked. “Most assuredly.” Myles thought to himself: “I guess they are right, especially if Att knows how I was befriended by Arkilu, whom he covets!” Then he asked: “And when am I to see the Terrible One?” “To-morrow morning,” was the reply. However, Myles Cabot fell asleep at the encampment that night wondering when he would get that radio set finished for a talk with Lilla and wondering whether that really was galena crystal which he had passed on the road. But galena crystal wasn’t going to help him any with Att the Terrible.