Drawn up on the beach below me were a score of similar boats, each
with its long pole, at one end of which was a pike, at the other
a paddle. Thurid was hugging the shore, and as he passed out of
sight round a near-by promontory I shoved one of the boats into
the water and, calling Woola into it, pushed out from shore.

The pursuit of Thurid carried me along the edge of the sea toward
the mouth of the Iss. The farther moon lay close to the horizon,
casting a dense shadow beneath the cliffs that fringed the water.
Thuria, the nearer moon, had set, nor would it rise again for near
four hours, so that I was ensured concealing darkness for that
length of time at least.

On and on went the black warrior. Now he was opposite the mouth
of the Iss. Without an instant's hesitation he turned up the grim
river, paddling hard against the strong current.

After him came Woola and I, closer now, for the man was too intent
upon forcing his craft up the river to have any eyes for what might
be transpiring behind him. He hugged the shore where the current
was less strong.

Presently he came to the dark cavernous portal in the face of the
Golden Cliffs, through which the river poured. On into the Stygian
darkness beyond he urged his craft.

It seemed hopeless to attempt to follow him here where I could not
see my hand before my face, and I was almost on the point of giving
up the pursuit and drifting back to the mouth of the river, there