That evening Michel paced back and forth in the small, luxuriously furnished apartment the little people had provided for him. It had three square sides and one open. There were apertures for light, but no glass or any other material in them. Neither was there anything other than a drape to serve as a door.
The temperature on this world was ideal. It stayed perpetually between seventy and eighty-five, hardly ever varying above or below these figures as rated on the Fahrenheit scale. Therefore there was no necessity of window panes to keep out the cold. Even without a door there was infinitely more privacy in these apartments than any man had ever known on Earth. The golden men never entered without first telepathizing their intentions in advance. Nor did anyone ever gaze into another's apartment or home. These people strictly maintained the ideal that a man's home is his castle.
His mind was surging with many thoughts. These Griffs, if he remembered correctly, though fiercely armed, had showed definite evidences of cowardice. He remembered the way they squealed when hurt. Their furious attempts to escape when soundly beaten. There was a possibility they could be trained. By force, if need be, but surely it would not hurt to try.
Then, too, those strange blossoms that acted as an anesthetic upon the golden people—perhaps they might act similarly upon the Griffs? It was a theory worth investigating.
The next morning he left the city, a long coil of hemplike rope around his arm. He found a group of the flowers he was looking for after a brief search, and quickly snapped a number of the largest blossoms at the stems. Their odor lent charm to the beauty of the scenery he passed. It struck him that these flowers were the very personification of the adage "one man's meat is another man's poison."
As though they knew he was searching for them, the Griffs seemed to elude him. The day wore on and the sun began to set and still he had found no Griffs. He began to wonder if the people of the golden city would be worried as to his whereabouts.
But as the long fingers of evening began to stretch gray paths across the sky, he was startled out of his thoughts by a fierce squealing. He turned rapidly, and there, emerging from an almost unnoticed cavelike formation was a red-eyed Griff, its teeth gnashing angrily.
Quickly Drawers formed the rope into a lasso. He gave it a few quick turns around his head and let fly at the Griff. The noose settled around the charging animal's neck. With a flick of his wrist Drawers tightened the noose, then, utilizing all of his strength, pulled the rope with a jerk to the right. The Griff choked and stumbled momentarily. In a twinkling of an eye Drawers was drowning the beast with the blossoms from the flowers he was carrying. The animal began to cough. It made an attempt to rise, and then settled back. It was panting now. Now its eyelids were closing and its breathing becoming harder and harder.
Drawers kicked the creature in the ribs. It did not respond.
Drawers removed the blossoms from the animal's nostrils. Then he took his rope and securely tied up its great jaws. With the happy whistle of a boy released from school, he made his way back to the city of Saeve, dragging the great beast behind him.