"Yes," agreed Morey, "it is handy. But suppose we find out where home is first; let's go find the local inhabitants."
"Excellent idea. Which way do we go to look?" Wade asked.
"This lake must have an outlet to the sea," Morey answered. "I suggest we follow it. Most rivers of any size have a port near the mouth, and a port usually means a city."
"Let's go," said Arcot, swinging the shining ship about and heading smoothly down along the line of the little stream that had its beginning at the lake. They moved on across the mountains and over the green foothills until they came to a broad, rolling plain.
"I wonder if this planet is inhabited," Arcot mused. "None of this land seems to be cultivated."
Morey had been scanning the horizon with a pair of powerful binoculars. "No, the land isn't cultivated, but take a look over there—see that range of little hills over to the right? Take a look." He handed the binoculars to Arcot.
Arcot looked long and quietly. At last he lowered the binoculars and handed them to Wade, who sat next to him.
"It looks like the ruins of a city," Arcot said. "Not the ruins that a storm would make, but the ruins that high explosives would make. I'd say there had been a war and the people who once lived here had been driven off."
"So would I," rejoined Morey. "I wonder if we could find the conquerors?"
"Maybe—unless it was mutual annihilation!"