"And possibly if you are."

"I'm hungry," snapped Bradley.

The Wieroo motioned him to one of the doors which he threw open,
permitting Bradley to pass out onto another roof on a level lower
than that upon which they had landed earlier in the morning.
By daylight the city appeared even more remarkable than in the
moonlight, though less weird and unreal. The houses of all
shapes and sizes were piled about as a child might pile blocks of
various forms and colors. He saw now that there were what might
be called streets or alleys, but they ran in baffling turns and
twists, nor ever reached a destination, always ending in a dead
wall where some Wieroo had built a house across them.

Upon each house was a slender column supporting a human skull.
Sometimes the columns were at one corner of the roof, sometimes
at another, or again they rose from the center or near the
center, and the columns were of varying heights, from that of
a man to those which rose twenty feet above their roofs.
The skulls were, as a rule, painted--blue or white, or in
combinations of both colors. The most effective were painted
blue with the teeth white and the eye-sockets rimmed with white.

There were other skulls--thousands of them--tens, hundreds
of thousands. They rimmed the eaves of every house, they were
set in the plaster of the outer walls and at no great distance
from where Bradley stood rose a round tower built entirely of
human skulls. And the city extended in every direction as far
as the Englishman could see.