the right's players, who was the only one on his team wearing an orange
jersey. They dived on him and jumped until the whole field was piled
high with them, and then they slowly began to disembark. Once all of the
opposing team's players were off of the orange shirted Zard, all was
silent and still as the referee held his hand aloft and began counting
with his fingers. Everyone held their breathe and stood tensely by as
they watched. Just before the referee's tenth and final finger was
counted, the orange shirted player rose from the ground, amidst the
screams of joy from his team and about half of the crowd, apparently
their fans. The two teams then returned to their respective sides, and
again the referee yelled loudly, signaling them to rush at each other
once more, and more of the same ensued, this time it being the other
team's orange shirted player to get pounced on. Once again there was a
high pile on top of him, and once again, as they crawled off and he was
exposed, the referee began to count. Except that this time the orange
shirted one never got up. The other team cheered again and so did the
other half of the crowd. The referee went to a pole on the sidelines and
put up the number '1' on it while a few bystanders picked the Zard up
and carried him off the field. They continued to play in this fashion
for awhile, going until one team or the other had no longer any players
to be jumped upon, but I was too disgusted at their violent nature to
watch, and instead walked over to the end table and picked up the
telescope, taking back as I did my thoughts about the innocence and
gentleness of the common folk.

With the telescope in hand I went over to the eastern side of the room
and began to closely inspect the savanna in an attempt to get a bird's
eye view of the point of my entrance in Daem. It looked rather the same
from above as it did from below, though the smells and sounds were
missing, and I found that it was rather bland once the initial