exception of George Ord, who had studied as many textbooks as he had.

He had reached his first goal—he was leader. For all of them there existed the second goal: the hope of someday leaving Ragnarok and taking Athena from the Gerns. For many of them, perhaps, it was only wishful dreaming but for him it was the prime driving force of his life. There was so much for them to do and their lives were so short in which to do it. For so long as he was leader they would not waste a day in idle wishing …

*

*

*

When the others were gathered to hear what he had to say he spoke to them:

“We’re going to continue where the Old Ones had to leave off. We’re better adapted than they were and we’re going to find metals to make a ship if there are any to be found.

“Somewhere on Ragnarok, on the northwest side of a range similar to the Craig Mountains on the plateau, is a deep valley that the Dunbar Expedition called the Chasm. They didn’t investigate it closely since their instruments showed no metals there but they saw strata in one place that was red; an iron discoloration. Maybe we can find a vein there that was too small for them to have paid any attention to. So we’ll go over the Craigs as soon as the snow melts from them.”

“That will be in early summer,” George Ord said, his black eyes thoughtful. “Whoever goes will have to time their return for either just before the prowlers and unicorns come back from the north or wait until they’ve all migrated down off the plateau.”

It was something Humbolt had been thinking about and wishing they could remedy. Men could elude unicorn attacks wherever there were trees large enough to offer safety and even prowler attacks could be warded off wherever there were trees for refuge; spears holding back the prowlers who would climb the trees while arrows picked off the ones on the ground. But there were no trees on the plateau, and to be caught by a band of prowlers or unicorns there was certain death for any small party of two or three. For that reason no small parties had ever gone up on the plateau except when the unicorns and prowlers were gone or nearly so. It was an inconvenience and it would continue for as long as their weapons were the slow-to-reload bows.

“You’re supposed to be our combination inventor-craftsman,” he said to George. “No one else can compare with you in that respect. Besides, you’re not exactly enthusiastic about such hard work as mountain climbing. So from now on you’ll do the kind of work you’re best fitted for. Your first job is to make us a better bow. Make it like a crossbow, with a sliding action to draw and cock the string and with a magazine of arrows mounted on top of it.”

George studied the idea thoughtfully. “The general principle is simple,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“How many of us will go over the Craig Mountains, Bill?” Dan Barber asked.

“You and I,” Humbolt answered. “A three-man party under Bob Craig will go into the Western Hills and another party under Johnny Stevens will go into the Eastern Hills.”

He looked toward the adjoining cave where the guns had been stored for so long, coated with unicorn tallow to protect them from rust.

“We could make gun powder if we could find a deposit of saltpeter. We already know where there’s a little sulphur. The guns would have to be converted to flintlocks, though, since we don’t have what we need for cartridge priming material. Worse, we’d have to use ceramic bullets. They would be inefficient—too light, and destructive to the bores. But we would need powder for mining if we ever found any iron. And, if we can’t have metal bullets to shoot the Gerns, we can have bombs to blast them with.”

“Suppose,” Johnny Stevens said, “that we never do find the metals to make a ship. How will we ever leave Ragnarok if that happens?”

“There’s another way—a possible way—of leaving here without a ship of our own. If there are no metals we’ll have to try it.”

“Why wait?” Bob Craig demanded. “Why not try it now?”

“Because the odds would be about ten thousand to one in favor of the Gerns. But we’ll try it if everything else fails.”

*

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