A towering, rawboned fellow pushed his way through the mob and stopped before Gene. The man—for men these people were, in spite of their crudity and animal traits—swept his eyes over the explorer in a cool glance of appraisal.
Gene did a bit of sizing-up of his own. The giant's high forehead suggested intelligence of a sort; the clear gray eyes told of courage and loyalty. Plainly, the man was a leader among his people.
Abruptly, the fellow turned and uttered a command to the foremost tribesmen. Two stepped forward and took up positions to each side of Gene. They prodded him gently in the ribs and pointed to the horizon. He took this to be a signal to start moving, and he obliged with reluctance, for his overpowering need of sleep now threatened to drop him at each step. How long they walked, the biologist did not know. His guides were practically dragging him by the time the party came into a city of caves, hewn in the jagged wall of a desolate valley. He was led to one of these caverns, mid the shouted questions of the quick-gathered townsfolk and the catcalls of unkempt children.
Blessed sleep rushed up to meet him as the two tribesmen deposited him on a pallet of dirty furs and withdrew from the chamber. The world could wait; the body must rest.
Gene learned much of this strange planet in the next few days. A wizened, white-bearded old man came daily to instruct him in the tribe's language—a simple speech which Gene, a student of ancient tongues, found easy to master.
"Our life is harsh," the talkative patriarch told the explorer between lessons. "Game is scarce and there is little vegetation. Once we grew crops, but now the soil is sterile and bears little, but for wild vegetables and fruits in those isolated places where the ground is yet fertile. This is a world of rock, my son. No creature of flesh and bone was meant to trod here."
The man spoke truth. All about, the valley lay barren, the sandy soil smothered under by tons of rock. Gene thought it a marvel that the tribesmen were able to exist at all in such a place. They must have great courage to fight such a hopeless battle against the forces of nature.
On his fifth day in the cave city, Gene was summoned to the dwelling of Old One, the tribal chief. There, too, was the gray-eyed giant whom Gene had first met the day of his arrival.
Old One raised a withered hand to signify peace, and the biologist solemnly did likewise. The venerable man nodded approval and settled back on his fur-covered stone bench.