lder to answer his remark. "They do count. But
we only regard a man as human for just as long as he's able to hold his
own with others."

The flesh was soon cooked, and they breakfasted in silence. Maskull cast
heavy, doubtful glances from time to time toward his companion.
Whether it was due to the strange quality of the food, or to his long
abstention, he did not know, but the meal tasted nauseous, and even
cannibalistic. He ate little, and the moment he got up he felt defiled.

"Let me bury this drude, where I can find it some other time," said
Oceaxe. "On the next occasion, though, I shall have no Maskull with me,
to shock.... Now we have to take to the river."

They stepped off the land onto the water. It flowed against them with a
sluggish current, but the opposition, instead of hindering them, had
the contrary effect--it caused them to exert themselves, and they
moved faster. They climbed the river in this way for several miles. The
exercise gradually improved the circulation of Maskull's blood, and
he began to look at things in a far more way. The hot sunshine, the
diminished wind, the cheerful marvellous cloud scenery, the quiet,
crystal forests--all was soothing and delightful. They approached nearer
and nearer to the gaily painted heights of Ifdawn.

There was something enigmatic to him in those bright walls. He was
attracted by them, yet felt a sort of awe. They looked real, but at the
same time very supernatural. If one could see the portrait of a ghost,
painted with a hard, firm outline, in substantial colors, the feelings
produced by such a sight would be exactly similar to Maskull's
impressions as he studied the Ifdawn precipices.

He broke the long silence. "Those mountains have most extraordinary
shapes. All the lines are straight and perpendicular--no slopes or
curves."

She walked backward on the water, in order to face him. "That's
typical of Ifdawn. Nature is all hammer blows with us. Nothing soft and
gradual."

"I hear you, but I don't understand you."

"All over the Marest you'll find patches of ground plunging down or
rushing up. Trees grow fast. Women and men don't think twice before
acting. One may call Ifdawn a place of quick decisions."

Maskull was impressed. "A fresh, wild, primitive land."

"How is it where you come from?" asked Oceaxe.

"Oh, mine is a decrepit world, where nature takes a hundred years
to move a foot of solid land. Men and animals go about in flocks.
Origina