Throughout the day the ceremony became general, climaxed by the symbolic mingling of blood. To satisfy custom, each member of the expedition--except for the women--was paired with a tribesman of equal status. Curiously, they seemed to accept Baiel as our high priest. With decided misgiving, I watched while he complacently established himself in the priest's portion of the cave. At sundown the ceremony ended. The old priest mounted a granite pedestal erected near the fire. Raising his long arms to the sky, he screamed guttural syllables at the gathering darkness. As the sun tinged the distant glacial wall with scarlet, the priest looked down upon the throng and proclaimed the need for sacrifice to brother glacier. The members of our expedition reacted with shocked silence, but the primitive tribe matter-of-factly went through the deadly lottery. The chosen hunter moved out toward the sacrificial grove, followed by the priest who held his blade naked in his hand. I cried reason at them, to hold them back. But the tribe neither heard nor comprehended. With glazing eyes they were lost in the terrifying ecstacy of tradition. Satisfy brother glacier, and the village would be safe. * * * * * At the grove Baiel suddenly joined the priest. They whispered together for a moment. Then Baiel raised his arms and spoke. "Wait! We bring the tribe the new gods of the sun. Our gods are stronger than brother glacier. Let them speak to the ice, and no life need be given." "Let the new gods satisfy the old!" the tribal priest echoed. His statement gave Baiel's innovation the stamp of approval. The tribe began to chant a sing-song thanksgiving. Baiel, like the priest, raised his arms and shouted gibberish which they took as prayer. When he lowered his hand, he pointed at the pile of rock in the grove. Red flame flashed. The stones dissolved. The surrounding ice wasted into a pool of water, slowly seeping into the blackened earth. It was a simple enough trick. Baiel had concealed a Hayden in his sleeve. But it impressed the tribe. They sang their exaltation, clapping hands on the broad shoulders of the young hunter who had been spared. Baiel joined me as we walked back to the village. "I knew something had to be done, Captain Theusaman," he explained. "Fortunately, my idea worked." "It's wrong, Baiel; all wrong." "I saved the man, didn't I?" "By substituting new gods for theirs. We want to free them, Baiel." "Is there any other way to do it?" "By teaching them the truth. By destroying their burden of gods and superstitions--not by creating more." This amused him and he laughed. I thought his reaction was odd, but I still misinterpreted it.