. Trunks and branches, bright in their
colors of yellow and orange and flaming red, were hacked to short
lengths and piled on all sides. The workers, as Jerry watched,
dropped their implements to race toward him. There was a press of
flat, white faces above. His captors, in their copper armor, beat the
newcomers back. The babel of chattering voices was deafening.

* * * * *

Again he was lifted into the air--plainly these were no weaklings he
had to deal with--and again the warrior band surrounded him as the
march was resumed. The milling, shrieking crowd of workers followed in
an ear-splitting mob.

The forest ended, and the men went slowly now down smooth, rocky
slopes to stop upon a wide, level expanse. Before he was placed on the
ground Jerry had a glimpse of a funnel-shaped pit--the mouth of the
extinct volcano. And toward it, bound and helpless, was being carried
a struggling form which he thought he recognized.

"Winslow!" he shouted. But the bodies in their gleaming copper armor
closed about him in a solid throng and cut off his view.

In the sky the sun had moved slowly upward since first they landed. It
slanted brightly now into the eyes of the prostrate man and made a
spectacle of his twisting contortions as he tried to get his bands on
his knife in its sheath at his belt. This and his pistol were under
his coat. But he could not reach them. He lay panting with his
exertions.

One of the warriors seemed to have authority, for his arms alone of
all the group were sheathed with copper circlets, and the others
obeyed his orders. Jerry addressed himself to this one. He knew the
words were unintelligible, but he pleaded desperately for a chance.

"Take this off," he said. "We are friendly--friends--friends!" He
struggled to keep himself from shouting, to keep his voice under
control. "The other man," he said, "bring him back." And again he
repeated: "We are friends."

He scanned his captors' faces.

* * * * *

The pasty face above him was impassive; the eyes stared
uncomprehendingly into his. Then the figure barked an order. One of
the warriors swung Jerry lightly to his shoulder, and started toward
the pit.

At its edge was a basket, a huge affair of knotted fiber ropes. Dimly,
Jerry saw other baskets standing about: they were filled with the
fragments of fungus. Still bound, he was placed in the empty
container. Hands grasped the meshes