"I want you to. Why do you act so strangely toward me, 'Tina? Do you dislike me? You used to--" "I'm happy," she cried suddenly. "Now I've said it. You want me to. Are you satisfied? Why don't you let me alone, Greg? Must I like or dislike you? You have one woman? Must you--" She broke from his side, raced forward to the edge of the hill, stared blindly down into the plain. Greg moved after her, worried. "What is it, 'Tina? You're _not_ happy! Are you lonely? Why don't you get married, too? Sparks ... or Breadon...." He stopped, his gaze over her shoulder settling on something in the valley beneath. A thing incredible to behold, but that was ... yes, _was_.... "'Tina!" he gasped. At the tone of his voice she spun swiftly, anxiously. "What is it, Greg?" "Look! Down there! A--a human!" X "More gruel, Marberry?" asked Aunt Maud solicitously. "Can you eat another spoonful?" She glared at those who ringed the reclining spaceman belligerently. "Why don't you let him alone?" she demanded. "Greg Malcolm, I thought you had better sense! The man's weak and sick!" Marberry's eyes were like charred pockets, but he summoned a weak smile. "I'm all right," he said. "There isn't much more to tell. We managed to cut free from the _Carefree_ just before she crashed. Four of us. Lipstead, Hawkins, Craeburn and myself. Our skiff cracked up in a mountain gorge. Craeburn was killed, and Lipstead broke his leg. But we fixed it up in splints, and he got by. "When the snow came--" He shut his eyes momentarily, as though to rid them of a persistently evil vision. "When the snow came we almost died. We ran short on fuel, and the skiff leaked. Then the electro-stove ran down, and we had to eat cold, canned food. "Even so, we pulled through. But when it got warm again, Hawkins said we mustn't spend another winter in the skiff. We had to find a cave in the mountains, he said. So we abandoned the ship and started moving. It was then that they caught us." Breadon, who had entered late, asked, "Who?" "Natives of Titan," Greg capitulated briefly. "He described 'em to us before you came in. Savages. Cannibals. Humanoid, but no culture. Funny physical make-up, like the Uranians. Don't feel the cold at all. Murdering devils. From what he says, we're lucky they haven't found us before this." Breadon said, "Cannibals!" and looked sallow. The supine man continued weakly. "We had to leave Lipstead behind. He couldn't run. He drew a gun on us, threatened to kill us all if we didn't leave him. We heard his gun afterward. He must have got a half dozen of them before--before they got him. "Then Hawkins and me split up. It was the only way, he said. One of us might be lucky. I--I guess I was. They followed him instead of me. And all the time--" His voice raised feverishly. "And all the time, we was only about ten miles from here! If we'd only known--"