I alone, just as last autumn, was preparing for the winter; as time went by, the other inhabitants of Sobul were going their mute and mysterious way. Gradually the village was being deserted; face after familiar face was disappearing: first Abthar, then Barkodu, then Karem, then Hamul-Kammesh; while by degrees the town assumed a desolate appearance. The end of October saw its population reduced by more than half; early November found a mere handful remaining; and I knew that the time was not far-off when even this handful would have vanished. But where the people went was as much an enigma as ever. As during the previous year, I made several attempts to trace the fugitives. More than once, slipping out of the cabin at night when Yasma was asleep, I lay in wait for hours in a thicket at the village edge; but my only reward was fresh torment and bewilderment. I never caught any glimpse of the departing natives, though always in the morning I would note that there were more absentees; on my most successful attempt, I found a number of fresh-made tracks, which I hopefully traced southward into the woods, until they came to an end as inexplicably as though their makers had evaporated. I well remember my last effort. I must have been a little incautious in leaving the cabin; or perhaps Yasma was not quite asleep, as I had thought; for no sooner had I taken my usual station in the thicket than I became aware of a shadowy approaching form. Thinking that this was one of the fleeing Ibandru, I crouched down so as not to be seen; but a peal of laughter brought me to my senses; in an instant, I found myself face to face with--my wife! "Oh, you silly creature, how do you expect to find out anything that way?" she chided me, having apparently divined my purpose. "You may lie there watching till the end of time, and you'll never discover a thing. It is not by examining the earth that you may learn of the eagle's flight." With these words Yasma took my arm; and docilely I accompanied her back to our cabin. Only by a great effort of will had I dared to leave her side that night, for I lived in terror that when I next turned to look for her she would be gone. Indeed, if she had been a bubble that might burst at a touch, or a rainbow that a shadow would shatter, I could scarcely have been more worried; for it would hardly have surprised me to see her transform herself into a sun-mote, and go dancing into the air and out of view. November was not yet very old when some persistent voice within me proclaimed that the crisis was at hand. There arrived a day when not a score of the Ibandru paced about among the empty cabins; there arrived a later day when not half a score were to be seen, and then the climactic day--not very much later--when only one member of the tribe still walked in the village.