There could have been but a single deduction in the mind of the
Mahar--there were other worlds than Pellucidar, and the gilak was
a rational being.

Now the creature at my side was creeping slowly toward the near-by
sea. At my hip hung a long-barreled six-shooter--somehow I had
been unable to find the same sensation of security in the newfangled
auto-matics that had been perfected since my first departure from
the outer world--and in my hand was a heavy express rifle.

I could have shot the Mahar with ease, for I knew intuitively that
she was escaping--but I did not.

I felt that if she could return to her own kind with the story of
her adventures, the position of the human race within Pellucidar
would be advanced immensely at a single stride, for at once man
would take his proper place in the considerations of the reptilia.

At the edge of the sea the creature paused and looked back at me.
Then she slid sinuously into the surf.

For several minutes I saw no more of her as she luxuriated in the
cool depths.

Then a hundred yards from shore she rose and there for another
short while she floated upon the surface.

Finally she spread her giant wings, flapped them vigorously a score
of times and rose above the blue sea. A single time she circled
far aloft--and then straight as an arrow she sped away.