the other inhabitants of Pellucidar by the same method they used
to converse with one another.

"What they do," said Perry, "is to project their thoughts into the
fourth dimension, when they become appreciable to the sixth sense
of their listener. Do I make myself quite clear?"

"You do not, Perry," I replied. He shook his head in despair,
and returned to his work. They had set us to carrying a great
accumulation of Maharan literature from one apartment to another,
and there arranging it upon shelves. I suggested to Perry that we
were in the public library of Phutra, but later, as he commenced
to discover the key to their written language, he assured me that
we were handling the ancient archives of the race.

During this period my thoughts were continually upon Dian the
Beautiful. I was, of course, glad that she had escaped the Mahars,
and the fate that had been suggested by the Sagoth who had threatened
to purchase her upon our arrival at Phutra. I often wondered if
the little party of fugitives had been overtaken by the guards who
had returned to search for them. Sometimes I was not so sure but
that I should have been more contented to know that Dian was here
in Phutra, than to think of her at the mercy of Hooja the Sly One.
Ghak, Perry, and I often talked together of possible escape, but
the Sarian was so steeped in his lifelong belief that no one could
escape from the Mahars except by a miracle, that he was not much
aid to us--his attitude was of one who waits for the miracle to
come to him.

At my suggestion Perry and I fashioned some swords of scraps of