th, and he
looked around for something to drink. There was a desert water bottle
standing on the floor beside him. That meant he had been found and
rescued by some Martian desert rat who had probably witnessed his
fall. He rinsed out his mouth with clean, sweet spring water from the
bottle, drank freely. His stomach promptly took advantage of the
opportunity to clear itself of the alkali, and Murray, controlling his
desire to vomit, crawled outside into the blinding light of the
Martian afternoon. He saw that the cave was high up on the side of one
of the more prominent cliffs. There were many such hollowed places,
indicating that the sloping shelf on which he now lay had once been
the beach of a vast sea which at some time must have covered all but
the higher peaks of the Gray Mountains. It was, of course, the sea
that had deposited the scanty soil which here and there covered the
rocks. During geologic ages it shrunk until it all but disappeared,
leaving only a few small and bitter lakes in unexpected pockets.

There was a succession of prehistoric beaches below Murray's vantage
point, marking each temporary sea level, giving the mountain a
terraced appearance. A thousand feet below was the white lake,
sluggish and dead.

Murray was looking for the man who had saved him. He was able to
discern him, after a little effort, toiling up the steep slopes. He
was still nearly all the way down. He could see only that he seemed to
be dressed in white desert trousers and blouse, and that he wore a
broad-brimmed sun helmet. He was carrying something in a bag over his
shoulder. He was making the difficult ascent with practiced ease, his
body thrown well forward, making fast time for such an apparently
deliberate gait.

* * * * *

The desert glare hurt Murray's eyes. He closed them and fell asleep.
He awoke to the shaking of his shoulder, looked up into a
black-bearded face, a beard as fierce and luxuriant as his own. But
where Murray was bald, this man's hair was as thick and black as his
beard. He had thrown off his helmet, so that his massive head was
outlined against the sky. His torso was thick, his shoulders broad.
Large, intelligent eyes and brilliant coral skin proclaimed the man to
be a native of Mars.

The man's white teeth flashed brilliantly when he spoke.

"Feeling better? Man, you can feel good to be here at all! Time and
again have I seen Scar Balta drop 'em into that lake, but