t gradually the most primitive aspects of the
scene were modified. The over-arching trees were less closely packed,
and they came across occasional rock clearings which were bare of
vegetation except for a dense carpet of brown, lichenlike vegetation
that secreted an astonishing amount of juice. They slipped and sloshed
through this, rousing swarms of odd, toothed birds, which darted
angrily around their heads and slashed at them with the razor-sharp
saw edges on the back of their legs. Annoying as they were, they could
be kept away with branches torn from trees, and their presence
connoted an absence of the deadly jungle flesh-eaters, permitting a
temporary relaxation of vigilance and saving the resources of the last
flash gun.

They camped that "night" on the edge of one of these rock clearings.
For the first time in weeks it had stopped raining, although the sun
was still obscured. Dimly on the horizon could be seen the first of
the foothills. Here they gathered some of the giant, oblong fungus
that early explorers had taken for blocks of porous stone because of
their size and weight, and, by dint of the plentiful application of
fire pellets, managed to set it ablaze. The heat added nothing to
their comfort, but it dried them out and allowed them to sleep
unmolested.

* * * * *

An unwary winged eel served as their breakfast, and soon they were on
their way to those beckoning hills. It had started to rain again, but
the worst part of their journey was over. If they could reach the top
of one of the mountains there was a good chance that they would be
seen and rescued by their relief ship, provided they did not starve
first. The flyer would use the mountains as a base from which to
search for the trading station, and it was conceivable that the
skipper might actually have anticipated their desperate adventure and
would look for them in the Mountains of Perdition.

They had crossed several ranges of the foothills and were beginning to
congratulate themselves when the diffused light from above was
suddenly blotted out. It was raining again, and above the
echo-augmented thunder they heard a shrill screeching.

"A web serpent!" Gunga cried, throwing himself flat on the ground.

Forepaugh eased into a rock cleft at his side. Just in time. A great
grotesque head bore down upon him, many-fanged as a medieval dragon.
Between obsidian eyes was a fissure whence emanated a wailing and a
fou