Our occupation of the Lone City was to continue. On this second expedition
farther into the Twilight Country I took with me a much smaller and more
select force. We had before us a land journey of some two hundred and
fifty miles, through an unknown, barren country, in which it would be
difficult for us to maintain ourselves, so I was determined to be burdened
with as few men as possible.

Our force consisted of all the older men trained in the operation of the
larger projectors and rockets; a variety of mechanics and helpers, men
selected for their physical strength; a corps of young men to the number
of fifty, and fifty girls.

We did not take the platforms, for I assumed it would be too cold for the
girls to make sustained flights. Against this cold we provided ourselves
well with the white furry garments of the Twilight People. I need not go
into details of our march to the Dark City. It occupied some three weeks.
We met with no opposition, passing a few isolated settlements, whose
inhabitants rather welcomed us than otherwise.

This region we passed through took us almost to the ill-defined borders of
the Dark Country. It was not mountainous, but rather more a great broken
plateau with a steady ascent. Each day it grew darker and colder, until at
last we entered perpetual night. It was not the sort of night we know on
earth, but a Stygian blackness.

We used little torches now, of the light-ray current, and our little army,
trudging along in their lurid glare, and dragging its wagons piled high
with the projectors, presented a curious and weird picture. The country
for the most part was barren rock, with a few stunted trees growing in the
ravines and crevices. There was an abundance of water.

We encountered several rainstorms, and once during the last week it snowed
a little. Except for the storms, the wind held steady, a gentle breeze
from the colder regions in front blowing back toward the Light Country
behind us.

During the latter days of our journey I noticed a curious change in the
ground. It seemed now, in many places, to be like a soft, chalky
limestone, which ran in pockets and seams between strata of very hard
rock. I called Miela's attention to it once, and she pointed out a number
of irregular shaped, small masses of a substance which in daylight I
assumed might be yellow. These were embedded in the soft limestone.

"Sulphur," she said. "Like that on your earth. There is much of it up
here, I