"Shut up!" Disbro cut him off. "No girl, I said!"
"No girl," repeated Max obediently.
Rain began to fall, fat drops the size of marbles.
"Back inside," commanded Disbro. "There'll be lots of this kind of
weather. We'll have something to eat, then study another way to reach
the trees yonder."
"No girl," said Max. "But I saw."
* * * * *
The rain that drove Disbro and Max back into their shelter filtered
through layers of leafage, beginning to wash the mud from Planter's
clothing. He stared again at his rescuer.
"I seem to have understood what you said," he managed at last.
"Isn't so strange, that?" she flung back, in words somehow run
together. "E'en though you're mad enow to sport with yonder muck-worm,"
and her wide, bright blue eyes flicked toward the danger he had lately
avoided, "you'll have the tongue of mankind. Art no man?"
"Man enough, young woman," rejoined Planter, a little nettled. "I
suppose it's like the fantasies--we can read each other's minds, or
something."
"Something," she echoed, as if humoring a child.
"And I owe you thanks for saving my life."
"Oh, 'twas no great matter." She shouldered the crossbow. "Come, for
the Skygors will be about our heels."
She picked her way rapidly among the steam, with the surest and
cleverest of feet. Women on Earth were never so graceful or sure,
decided Planter, hurrying after. He was aware that he did not step
on the muddy surface of Venus, but upon a matted over-floor, of
roots, fallen stems, ground-vines, sometimes great sturdy leaves like
lily-pads grown to the size of double mattresses. "Wait, young lady,"
he called, "who are the Skygors, you mentioned and why should they be
after us?"
She halted again, swung and studied him with more of that disdainful
curiosity. "'Tis a gruel-brained idiot," she decided, as if to herself.
"For that they cast him out. Methought 'twas strange that a man should
flee, of himself, from sure shelter and victual."
It was raining harder. The great roof of vegetation only partially
broke that downpour. It sluiced away the coating of mud from Planter,
and soaked his stout garments through. He felt miserable in the
dampness, but his girl guide throve, if anything, in the drops that
struck and rolled down her bare arms and shoulders.
He saw, too, that she followed something of a trail among the stalks
and stems. It was barely wider than his own stalwart shoulders could
pass, and wound crazily here and there; but one must stick to it, for
to right and left the jungle grew thicker than a basket. He called out
again.
"Miss! Young lady!"