every tearing off of a leaf would be a wound in my heart. We have
only to throw our robes over our heads."

"No doubt that will answer the same purpose, but tell me--weren't
these very robes once part of a living creature?"

"Oh, no--no, they are the webs of a certain animal, but they have
never been in themselves alive."

"You reduce life to extreme simplicity," remarked Maskull
meditatively, "but it is very beautiful."

Climbing back over the hills, they now without further ceremony began
their march across the desert.

They walked side by side. Joiwind directed their course straight
toward Poolingdred. From the position of the sun, Maskull judged
their way to lie due north. The sand was soft and powdery, very
tiring to his naked feet. The red glare dazed his eyes, and made him
semi-blind. He was hot, parched, and tormented with the craving to
drink; his undertone of pain emerged into full consciousness.

"I see my friends nowhere, and it is very queer."

"Yes, it is queer--if it is accidental," said Joiwind, with a
peculiar intonation.

"Exactly!" agreed Maskull. "If they had met with a mishap, their
bodies would still be there. It begins to look like a piece of bad
work to me. They must have gone on, and left me.... Well, I am here,