"The men of our tribe snatched up stones, and holding one in their hands and one beneath their armpits, they climbed down to battle or greet our visitors. They had surrounded the sphere and were waiting, when suddenly an entrance appeared in the metal and two men stepped out.
"They were strange men indeed; white as the foam on water, and clothed in strange garb from the neck down, even to coverings on their feet. They made signs of peace—with one hand only, for they carried weapons of a sort in the other. And the men of our tribe made the same one-handed sign of peace, for they would not risk dropping their stones. Then the white men spoke; but their tongue was strange, and our men signaled that they could not understand. The white men smiled, and a great miracle took place. Suddenly to our minds came pictures and words. The white men spoke with their thoughts.
"They came from a place called Earth, they said. And they came in peace. Our men found they could think very hard and answer back with their own thoughts. And there was much talk and happiness, for friendly visitors were always welcome.
"There were two more white ones who came from the sphere. One was a woman with golden hair, and the other, a man of age, with hair like silver frost.
"There was a great feast then, and our men showed their skill at throwing. Then the white men displayed the power of their strange weapons by pointing them at a tree and causing flame to leap forth to burn the wood in two. We were indeed glad they came in peace.
"That night we asked them to sleep with us in the caves, but they made camp in the valley instead. The darkness passed swiftly and silently, and with the dawn we left our caves to rejoin our new friends. But everywhere a red man showed himself, he cried out and died by the flame from the white men's weapons.
"I looked into the valley and saw hundreds of Oan. They had captured our friends in the night and were using their weapons to attack us. There was a one-sided battle that lasted three days. Finally, under cover of night, we were forced to leave the caves. One by one we went, and those of us who lived still travel alone."
Ro groaned aloud as Na finished her tale. His homecoming was a meeting with tragedy, instead of a joyful occasion.
"What of my father?" he asked hopefully. "He was a great warrior. Surely he didn't fall to the Oan?"
"He had no chance to fight," Na answered. "Two of your brothers died with him on that first morning."