one of the reed islets. The Khatkan clawed his way to his knees, gained
his feet, and leaped for the next bit of solid ground.

"You, Thorson!" Jellico jerked his head at Dane and the younger spaceman
holstered his fire ray, slipped gingerly over the drop and prepared to
repeat Nymani's feat as best he could.

He was not quite as successful with his sidewise swing, landing with
only his forearms across the islet, the rest of his body being swiftly
embedded in what was ooze covered only with a thin crust of dried
matter. The stench of the stuff was sickening, but the fear of being
entrapped in it gave him the necessary impetus to push forward, though
what was meant to be a swift half-dive was more of a worm's progress. He
grabbed frantically at brittle stems, at coarse grass which cut like
knives at his hands. But some of the material held and he lay face down
on a lump which did not give under his weight.

There was no time to linger; he had to get to the next patch, to free
this dubious landing place for the men embattled on the rise above.
Stumbling up, Dane judged the distance with a space-trained eye and
jumped to a knob Nymani had already quitted. The Khatkan was more than
halfway along toward that promise of solid ground which the tangled mass
of leprous vegetation led to, zigzagging expertly from islet to islet.

There was a crash and a roar behind. Dane balanced on the third of the
minute islands to look back. He saw the lash of blaster fire on the top
of the cliff, Tau on his knees on the first of their chain of
steppingstones, and a graz sprawled head and forequarters in the sucking
muck where it had dived past the two defenders above. Needler and
blaster fired together again, and then Jellico swung over the cliff rim.
Tau waved vigorously and Dane took off for the next islet, just making
it by lucky chance.

The rest of the journey he took in a rush, trying not to think of
anything but the necessity of landing on some spot of firm ground. His
last leap of all was too short, so that he went knee deep in a
particularly evil-smelling pool where yellow scum spattered his breeches
and he experienced the insidious pull of the bottomless stuff. A stout
branch whipped across his shoulder and he caught it. With Nymani's wiry
strength on the other end, Dane worked free and sat, white-faced and
shivering, on a mat of brush, while the Khatkan hunter turned his
attention to the safety of Tau, the next arrival.

Mor