"But they _were_ men. Men and women and children."

"No, they weren't. Being shaped like us doesn't make them men. Being a man is something else entirely." He scowled. "Maybe the centaurs are 'men.'"

"Oh, no--"

"Don't be too sure. They seem to run things in this country."

The discussion was cut short by another arrival. It was almost dark and they did not see the centaur until he entered their clearing. He was followed by three of the--Max decided to call them 'men' though he resented the necessity--followed by three men. They were not on leashes. All three were bearing burdens. The centaur spoke to them; they distributed what they carried.

One of them set down a large clay bowl filled with water in the space separating Max and Ellie. It was the first artifact that any human had seen on Charity and did not indicate a high level of mechanical culture, being crudely modeled and clearly not thrown on a potter's wheel; it held water, no more could be said for it. A second porter dumped a double armful of small fruits beside the bowl. Two of them splashed into the bowl, he did not bother to fish them out.

Max had to look twice to see what the third slave was carrying. It looked as if he had three large ovoid balls slung by ropes in each of his hands; second inspection showed them to be animals about the size of opossums which he carried by their tails. He went around the clearing, stopping every few feet and lifting one of his burdens to a lower branch. When he had finished they were surrounded by six small creatures, each hanging by its tail. The centaur followed the slave, Max saw him stroke each animal and press a spot on its neck. In each case the entire body of the little animal lit up, began to shine like a firefly with soft silvery light.

The clearing was softly illuminated thereby--well enough, Max thought, to read large print. One of the hobgoblins balloons came sailing silently between trees and anchored to a point thirty feet above them; it seemed to settle down for the night.

The centaur came over to Max and prodded him with a hoof, snorting inquiringly. Max listened carefully, then repeated the sound. The centaur answered and again Max mimicked. This useless exchange continued for a few phrases, then the centaur gave up and left, his train trotting after him.

Ellie shivered. "Phew!" she exclaimed, "I'm glad they're gone. I can stand the centaurs, a little, but those men ... ugh!"

He shared her disgust; they looked less human close up, having hair lines that started where their eyebrows should have been. They were so flat-headed that their ears stuck up above their skulls. But it was not this that had impressed Max. When the centaur had spoken to him Max had gotten his first good look into a centaur's mouth. Those teeth were never meant for munching grain, they were more like the teeth of a tiger--or a shark.

He decided not to mention this. "Say, wasn't that the same one that was leading the herd that caught us?"

"How would I know? They all look alike."

"But they don't, any more than two horses look alike."

"Horses all look alike."

"But ..." He stopped, baffled by a city viewpoint at which communication failed. "I think it was the same one."

"I can't see that it matters."

"It might. I'm trying to learn their language."

"I heard you swallowing your tonsils. How did you do that?"

"Oh, you just remember what a sound sounds like, then do it." He threw his head back and made a very plaintive sound.

"What was _that?_"

"A shote stuck in a fence. Little shote by the name of Abner I had once."

"It sounds tragic."

"It was, until I helped him loose. Ellie, I think they've bedded us down for the night." He gestured at the bowl and the fruit beside it. "Like feeding the hogs."

"Don't put it that way. Room service. Room service and maid service and lights. Food and drink." She picked up one of the fruits. It was about the size and shape of a cucumber. "Do you suppose this is fit to eat?"

"I don't think you ought to try it. Ellie, it would be smart not to eat or drink anything until we are rescued."

"Well, maybe we could go hungry but we certainly can't go without water. You die of thirst in a day or two."

"But we may be rescued before morning."

"Maybe." She peeled the fruit. "It smells good. Something like a banana."

He peeled one and sniffed it. "More like a pawpaw."

"Well?"

"Mmm-- Look here, I'll eat one. If it hasn't made me sick in a half hour, then you can try one."

"Yes, sir, boss man." She bit into the one she held. "Mind the seeds."

"Ellie, you're a juvenile delinquent."

She wrinkled her nose and smiled. "You say the sweetest things! I try to be."

Max bit into his. Not bad--not as much flavor as a pawpaw, but not bad. Some minutes later he was saying, "Maybe we should leave some for breakfast?"

"All right. I'm full anyway." Ellie leaned over and drank. Without words they had each concluded that the cloying meal required them to risk the water. "There, I feel better. At least we'll die comfortably. Max? Do you think we dare sleep? I'm dead."

"I think they are through with us for the night. You sleep, I'll sit up."

"No, that's not fair. Honest, what good would it do to keep watch? We can't get away."

"Well ... here, take my knife. You can sleep with it in your hand."

"All right." She reached across the bowl and accepted it. "Good night, Max. I'm going to count sheep."

"Good night." He stretched out, shifted and got a tree cone out of his ribs, then tried to relax. Fatigue and a full stomach helped, the knowledge of their plight hindered--and that hobgoblin hanging up there. Maybe _it_ was keeping watch--but not for their benefit.

"Max? Are you asleep?"

"No, Ellie."

"Hold my hand? I'm _scared_."

"I can't reach it."

"Yes, you can. Swing around the other way."

He did so, and found that he could reach over his head past the water bowl and clasp her hand. "Thanks, Max. Good night some more."

He lay on his back and stared up through the trees. Despite the half light given by the luminiferous animals he could see stars and the numerous meteor trails crisscrossing the sky. To avoid thinking he started counting them. Presently they started exploding in his head and he was asleep.

The light of the local sun through the trees awakened him. He raised his head. "I wondered how long you would sleep," Eldreth announced. "Look who's here."

He sat up, wincing with every move, and turned around. Mr. Chips was sitting on Ellie's middle and peeling one of the papaya-like fruits. "Lo, Maxie."

"Hello, Chipsie." He saw that the note was still tied to her. "Bad girl!"

Mr. Chips turned to Ellie for comfort. Tears started to leak out. "No, no," corrected Ellie. "Good girl. She's promised to go find Maggie as soon as she finishes breakfast. Haven't you, dear?"

"Go find Maggie," the spider puppy agreed.

"Don't blame her, Max. Spider puppies aren't nocturnal back home. She just waited until we were quiet, then came back. She couldn't help it. I found her sleeping in my arm."

The spider puppy finished eating, then drank daintily from the bowl. Max decided that it didn't matter, considering who had probably used it before they had. This thought he suppressed quickly. "Find Maggie," Mr. Chips announced.

"Yes, dear. Go straight back to the ship as fast as you can and find Maggie. Hurry."

"Find Maggie. Hurry fast. 'Bye, Maxie." The spider puppy took to the trees and scampered away in the right direction.

"Do you think she'll get there?" asked Max.

"I think so. After all, her ancestors found their way through forests and such for a lot of generations. She knows it's important; we had a long talk."

"Do you really think she understands that much?"