grew fainter. Presently the interior parts were entirely concealed
by the crust--the creature stood opposite Maskull in its old
formidable ugliness, hard, painted, and concrete.

Disliking something about him, the crustacean turned aside and
stumbled awkwardly away on its six legs, with laborious and repulsive
movements, toward the other bank of the stream.

Maskull's apathy left him after this adventure. He became uneasy and
thoughtful. He imagined that he was beginning to see things through
Digrung's eyes, and that there were strange troubles immediately
ahead. The next time his eyes started to blur, he fought it down
with his will, and nothing happened.

The valley ascended with many windings toward the hills. It narrowed
considerably, and the wooded slopes on either side grew steeper and
higher. The stream shrunk to about twenty feet across, but it was
deeper--it was alive with motion, music, and bubbles. The electric
sensations caused by its water became more pronounced, almost
disagreeably so; but there was nowhere else to walk. With its
deafening confusion of sounds from the multitude of living creatures,
the little valley resembled a vast conversation hall of Nature. The
life was still more prolific than before; every square foot of space
was a tangle of struggling wills, both animal and vegetable. For a
naturalist it would have been paradise, for no two shapes were alike,
and all were fantastic, with individual character.

It looked as if life forms were being coined so fast by Nature that
there was not physical room for all. Nevertheless it was not as on
Earth, where a hundred seeds are scattered in order that one may be