ere in that country of the weathered hills. And there were
others and they were men. They came up the hill and they tried to take
him in their arms, strong men and fair, but he ran laughing with the
wind. His identity faded in that wind, was torn to tatters by it--left
only was Geria of Bortinot, her feelings, her thoughts, but his
awareness.

She stumbled, fell, turned over and over, much too slowly. Winds still
howled, but above her here at hill's bottom. Wraiths of fog swirled in
eddying gusts, came closer and faded, appeared again and swept away.

She cried a name because the fog brought her an image and the name and
the image were one._ "Smith of Earth, of Earth, of Earth...." _And he
came to her, this image, on a charger, an animal much too thick through
the shoulders to be a horse, with three pairs of legs. Low out of saddle
he leaned, graceful, handsome bald head pink with excitement. He
clutched at her, lifted her through the mists, above them. The
six-legged horse soared high, above the hills, above the winds, carried
her higher and higher. Smith stroked her yellow hair, kissed her. She
tingled...._

[Illustration]

* * * * *

"Wake up Smith! Up, come on now, the class is over for today."

He stirred. The dream--Gods of Earth, what a dream!

"Well, how'd you like it? See what I mean about dream empathy, Smith?
Beats everything, doesn't it?"

Smith hardly heard her. They say dreams fulfill wishes, they say--and
what was it Geria had dreamed? Suddenly, it was very important to Smith,
terribly important, more important than anything, because he remembered,
without knowing how or why, what had happened yesterday on the crags.

"Geria," he said. He tried to make his voice soft, but it boomed loudly,
almost startled her.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Why nothing is the matter. You remember yesterday on the crag,
Geria?"

She nodded.

"And your dream--Geria?"

Again, the casual nod.

"Geria, I--I love you. I think I want to marry you. I think--"

He stopped. She looked at him for what seemed a long time but really was
only a few seconds, and then she grinned. There was nothing malicious
about it, Smith knew, just a grin. It spread, and the woman of Bortinot
began to laugh. Softly at first, but soon she was laughing very hard and
Smith felt foolish. He wanted very much to be out of there, any place
but in that room, but he did not know for sure that he knew how to