What was that? Was it a glimmer of light in the darkness?
Farr's heart leaped with sudden hope. Was his mind playing him tricks, or was his sight returning? He climbed to his feet, straining his eyes at the pinpoint of light. No, it wasn't his imagination; his vision was definitely coming back! As he watched, the small patch of brightness grew slowly, expanding, pushing back the fearsome darkness.
"I—I can see again," he whispered, voice shaking with emotion. Then, flaming with new-born spirit, he repeated in a shout, "I can see again!"
His joy knew no bounds as he witnessed the unfolding of this miracle. In short minutes his eyesight had completely returned to normal and his hearing, too, was rapidly improving. He began talking to himself, savoring the sound of each word as it impinged on his eardrums. He caught sight of the Mumums, standing at a distance, mute and motionless as ever, and he yelled to them, "Hi, you ugly things! Am I glad to see you!"
Indeed, Farr was glad to see anything again, after that awful blackness that had blotted out his most precious sense. The ray had been intended to destroy his hearing and sight, but he had escaped its field in time to avoid permanent injury. Had it not been for the unreasoning fear that overwhelmed him, he would have remained there in the glade, to flounder about helplessly and eventually succumb to thirst and hunger.
Now, he was again in full possession of his faculties, and just as determined as ever to continue on to his destination. Twice he had fallen prey to the ingenious devices of the Ancients, and both times emerged unscathed. He was now convinced that the jungle could produce no obstacle that his cunning could not overcome.
Thus decided, Farr took his bearings. Finding that his flight had brought him to that side of the glade nearest his goal, he had nothing to do but resume his march through the lush Phoebe plant-life.
On two occasions during the next few hours he came across grim discoveries, discoveries that made him shudder in spite of his callousness—sun-bleached, grinning skeletons. He found the first one draped over a devil stone, picked free of carrion, mute testimony of the insidious rock's power.
The other lay not far away in a clump of bushes. As Farr approached, the willowy branches of the shrubs whipped into sudden action, flicking gobs of black, gooey matter directly at the surprised spaceman. He dodged aside with a cry of dismay, barely averting contact with the stuff. Several of the viscid wads plopped against the bole of a tree and began eating furiously into the bark.
Eyes bulging, Farr turned and fled, putting distance between himself and the deadly bushes. No wonder there hadn't been much left of that second heap of bones! The shrubs were living acid manufactories, remaining dormant until the approach of a victim, then to spring into life and bombard the prey with gobs of the fatal stuff.