* * * * * Twenty-one years later, when the ships from Earth began arriving, the log had been replaced by a stone monument erected to the memory of the Exodus VII, which had been cut apart for its valuable steel. Around the monument was a park, and on three sides of the park was a shining town--not really large enough to be called a city--of plastic and stone, for New Earth had no iron ore, only zinc and a little copper. This was often cause for regret. Still it was a pretty good world. The monster problem had been licked by high-voltage cannon. Now in their third generation since the landing, the monsters kept their distance. And things grew--things good to eat. And even without steel, the graceful, smoothly-functioning town looked impressive--quite a thing to have been built by a handful of beings with two arms and two legs each. It hadn't been, entirely. But nobody thought much about that any more. Even the newcomers got used to it. Things change. THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ November 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.