wavered, split and formed into gigantic, sparkling, marching
curtains of splendor.

A vast circle of light sprang out upon the folds of the
flickering, rushing curtains. Misty at first, its edges sharpened
until they rested upon the blazing glory of the northern
sky like a pale ring of cold flame. And about it the
aurora began to churn, to heap itself, to revolve.

Toward the ring from every side raced the majestic
folds, drew themselves together, circled, seethed around it
like foam of fire about the lip of a cauldron, and poured
through the shining circle as though it were the mouth of
that fabled cavern where old Aeolus sits blowing forth
and breathing back the winds that sweep the earth.

Yes--into the ring's mouth the aurora flew, cascading
in a columned stream to earth. Then swiftly, a mist swept
over all the heavens, veiled that incredible cataract.

"Magnetism?" muttered Drake. "I guess NOT!"

"It struck about where the Ting-Pa was broken and
seemed drawn down like the rays," I said.

"Purposeful," Drake said. "And devilish. It hit on all
my nerves like a--like a metal claw. Purposeful and
deliberate. There was intelligence behind that."

"Intelligence? Drake--what intelligence could break the