Arturo, Tad and I came to prominence. The Middge leaders were already working on their war equipment. With Nereid for interpreter, we were questioned on where we were, and what was best to do. But we did not know where we were! This had been the Pacific Ocean. No islands were near here; in all this desolate panorama there had been no mountain top with any sign of verdure. Could we travel on foot, here on this land? We did not know. A mile or two a day, perhaps; climbing the crags, descending into valleys, avoiding mountain torrents, picking our way over the caked ooze--struggling as men on foot have struggled over Polar icefields! But in which direction? How far to the nearest mountain top where people might be living? We could not say. “But one thing,” said Tad, “they’ll be planes flying over here. We must go up in the daylight, many of us on top where they can see us.” We built, that next day, a tent of white for a signal, and crowded around it. The Middge came up, blinded by the light. A plane went overhead. We could barely see it, just for a moment in a rift in the clouds. It seemed ten thousand feet above us, at least. It was a familiar model, we recognized its shape. But a bomb came whistling down. Our little tent was gone. A score of the Middge lay maimed and dying. * * * * * It was then that Nereid thought she had communicated with Polly, sending her desperate plea: “_Don’t let them attack us!_” She was sure she had reached Polly. And all that day she struggled to communicate further. The night came--our second night in the Lowlands. Nereid had a little tent to herself against the wall of one of the caves. Arturo, Tad, and I had a shelter near it. We had discussed the possibility of organizing a party to start on foot for help. A week or two here, even with the starvation rations upon which the encampment now was put, and our plight would be desperate. Nereid opposed it--she still thought she could direct Polly to bring help to us. And she believed, that evening sitting alone in her tent, that she had reached Polly again. But she said nothing to us. It may have been midnight. Arturo and Tad were asleep. Exhausted with weeks of marching, this inactivity here was needed by us all. I had been sleeping soundly. I do not know what awakened me--chance perhaps, or fate. I went to the flap of our little tent. The cave was in darkness; the fantastic tents, with a dim light here and there, were silent. I saw a figure moving, recognized it for Nereid. She had evidently just come from her tent. I was alert at once; but instead of speaking to her, I drew back, watching. There was a furtiveness about her; she moved swiftly, silently across the grotto, her hair and veils floating as she walked.