Part 2

"Gradually the Griffs have been dying out for lack of food. They are carnivorous and have systematically eliminated most of the lower animal life from our world. My race, except for occasional mishaps have been virtually beyond their reach. There are only a few of them left now, but they prowl perpetually about the walls of the city searching for an opportunity to enter and wreak havoc, or to catch some one of my race as they pass a particularly gloomy spot in the forest."

Michel Drawers thought over what the little man had said. He thought too of the sub-atomic blast used for blasting aside obstacles in search of Roxite. It would not be the first time it had been used as a weapon--a most terrible weapon of destruction.

However, for the moment he deemed it best not to mention this to Persum, as the little man so quaintly named himself. Perhaps these Griffs were not so easily destroyed. And then again to destroy them might be a fatal error. He remembered how in ages past men had wantonly destroyed the once-numerous mountain lions in reckless numbers, and then had the wild deer, which had been the mountain lion's natural prey, multiply so that they left no grass for the cattle who should have benefited through the death of the mountain lions.

Then, too there was the problem of Australia, where an apparently innocuous rodent, the rabbit, had multiplied into a national menace, once there was no natural enemy to check them. He must learn more.

They stopped before a great golden gate. Persum lifted a small reed to his lips and blew. From it there issued a long, sweet, piercing whistle. Slowly the gates rolled smoothly open, fitting right into the thick walls beside them.

Without hesitation Persum walked through the opening. Michel Drawers held back for a moment, blinded by a chance ray of sun-light that bounced off the gleaming sides of one of the buildings.

Then, he too entered, and the gates, as if by their own volition, closed behind him.

He was in another world now. Gone was all harshness and crudity. Here there was only beauty and color and gold. Buildings in peerless symmetry dug their way through the low hanging clouds to unknown heights. Spell-binding displays of coruscating lights played in rhythms through curious designs of crystals. Later Drawers learned that this corresponded to music--by sight instead of ear.

Self-consciously he ambled along the spotless streets behind Persum--streets which seemed to be paved with pure gold. He tried not to notice the open stares given him by the city's inhabitants. He realized that they did not mean to be impolite. It was simply that a man of his bulk was unique in this civilization.

More and more as they proceeded he began to take cognizance of the complete absence of transportation of any sort. Everyone here walked. Of course, the slighter gravitational pull made walking considerably less strenuous, but still, that didn't account for the various groups of golden men he had passed, laboriously pulling great blocks of stone by man-power alone--when a small wheeled vehicle, or even one beast of burden would have lightened the load immeasurably.

He stopped in utter perplexity though, when he saw a group of golden men attempting to lift an enormous stone block into place by the sheer strength of their bodies. They seemed totally ignorant of the enormous saving in strength and labor that might have been enacted by the building of a simple pulley arrangement.

It was becoming increasingly evident that this race's knowledge of even the most fundamental laws of mechanics was practically nil.

But as if in compensation, he noted too, that these people seemed to get along with each other without the slightest friction. Nothing seemed sufficient to arouse anger. He wondered if they were incapable of the emotion.

The people moved about the streets tending entirely to their own business. There were no doors to any of the dwellings--simply arched openings. Numerous valuable objects such as painstakingly carved chairs, and richly sculptured busts, were present in front of many of the homes. Yet they remained untouched.

Nowhere, so far, had he seen even one person who might have passed as a peace officer. The golden people seemed to need no enforcement to maintain the effective carrying out of whatever laws they were governed by. Each and every one of them seemed to take it for granted that he must do what was required as a duty to himself as well as to the community and that's all there was to it.

Persum had stopped in front of a grand edifice of such beauty and brilliance that it faded into insignificance the surrounding buildings, fine as they were.

He followed Persum into the building. Through upward sloping halls that wound around and around up into the vitals of the building and served in lieu of stairways, and into a glistening hall of gold and crystal. The hall was partially filled with others of the golden people.

Drawers watched in bewilderment as Persum approached the group of little people--apparently officials of the city--and without opening his lips informed them of all that had transpired.

And now others of Persum's strange race came forward to greet him. Drawers marveled at the perfection of these golden people. At the unsurpassed, delicate beauty and construction of their forms; the charm and adorableness of their women. Here indeed was a tiny race of perfection, soul-satisfying to the extreme.

One of the welcoming party bowed low before him.

"We are pleased to have this opportunity to show you our hospitality," the man said. "My name is Garanjor, humble Raciv of my people."

Drawers gulped impulsively. The highest official of the land was out to greet him. Him, a nobody from Earth who had landed here by accident, in search of Roxite. Perhaps this was some form of a joke? He scrutinized the faces about him. All were serious to the extreme. An air of serenity seemed to pervade. Drawers drew from his brain all he remembered of the proper etiquette for such occasions. Six years in a space-ship--it was easy to forget.

"I am honored," was all he could think of.

Nervously he juggled a small meter, for the determining of the purity of Roxite, in his hands.

One of the golden people took note of the instrument, and turned to the others with an unmistakable air of excitement. In an instant the entire assembly was crowded about him examining the meter with feverish interest.

One asked: "This metal--have you any more of it?"

"Why that's nothing very much," Drawers replied. "That's only common iron. The ground is filthy with this back on Earth. Why do you ask?"

Persum mentally replied to the question.

"Here, in this city, Ronir, which is what you call Iron is the rarest of all metals. We use it only in the construction of vital instruments and tools. All other uses, because of its extreme scarcity, are forbidden."

"Well, you can have all I have on the ship, if you want it," Drawers offered generously. "It's nothing more than trimmings on the inside of the ship. Iron and steel haven't been of much value since the invention of much superior alloys which have an infinitely greater resistance to heat and cold."

"We would be glad to give you anything you request for this metal," the Raciv offered. "There have been numerous occasions when the possession of a little larger supply of Ronir might have relieved much suffering."

"In that case, why don't you just consider it my contribution to the advancement of science and let it go at that?"

"I'm afraid you do not understand," Persum clarified. "Our race will not accept anything of this sort without first arranging a fair exchange."

Michel Drawers realized that he must be careful not to offend these people due to his ignorance of their laws. He made an admirable stab at diplomacy.

"Suppose you give me something that you believe would be a fair exchange."

The golden people drew away a moment and conversed telepathically among themselves.

Then the Raciv walked toward Drawers. There was a resigned expression upon his features. He threw back his shoulders and looked Drawers straight in the eye.

"_I am prepared to turn my leadership over to you in exchange!_" came his startling thoughts. The other golden people looked solemn.

Drawers drew back aghast. _Just how precious were these small amounts of iron that he had offered these people, if they were willing to entrust him with their entire government in return._

Persum must have read his thoughts for he again explained.

"At the base of the skull of every new born babe of our race there lies a dormant gland. What use this gland once had we do not know. Through thousands of years of disuse it has atrophied, and the slightest mental exertion causes its inflammation. In almost every case the pressure exerted upon the brain by this swollen gland has resulted in death.

"At one time hundreds died daily from this dread malady. We tried to operate, but our metals were all too soft to be sharpened to a keen edge, and used for operation. Eventually we discovered Ronir. Minute deposits of this invaluable metal came to light at various times. We melted the crude ore and fashioned it into the vital instruments we needed. Now we operate upon a baby immediately after birth and remove this gland so that it cannot do any harm. The operation is a comparatively simple one. We have mastered various balms that will heal the incision within a few hours. However, we have been unable to discover new deposits of this valuable metal for many centuries now--due, largely to the menace of the Griffs.

"The instruments we fashioned many centuries ago are almost all worn out. It is estimated that if a new supply of Ronir is not obtained soon, within the next generation or so, our tools will be useless, and then--"

The inference was obvious. Michel Drawers realized that he was in a mighty uncomfortable position. For once his brain found a suitable solution.

He faced the Raciv. "I accept your Racivship with thanks."

The Raciv handed Michel Drawers an elongated prism of crystal, through which played curious designs of ever-changing color.

"Please accept this as a sign of your position," Garanjor asked.

Drawers received the colorful prism, then quickly stated, "As Raciv, I do not feel capable of performing the duties required of me in this new capacity. For that reason I hereby return the great honor entrusted to me to its original possessor."

Quickly he handed the prism back to Garanjor.

There was a murmur of thought. Apparently the golden people were deeply moved by this noble gesture.

Michel Drawers gave them no time to reconsider. He emptied his pockets of all the iron and steel objects he carried. There was the meter, a steel measuring rule, and several handy implements he happened to have with him.

While divesting himself of these objects he took opportunity to examine the golden people more carefully.

The men were attired only in what seemed to be a glorified pair of trunks--although a few of them wore a crepe-like cloak. Their entire bodies were of a deep golden hue as was their hair. The pronounced aura about each of them, he decided, must be due to the peculiar, unknown gas in the atmosphere. In some way it must affect the radiations thrown off by the body and make them visible to the naked eye.

The women were beautiful, that's all there was to it. They had all the same characteristics of the men. Their dress was a satiny, tight-fitting garment that reminded one, more than anything else, of a bathing suit done over for evening wear. Their hair was arranged in such a manner as to give the impression of additional height.

Both men and women were approximately the same height--about five feet--but built entirely in proportion.

Further observations were interrupted. The people about him suddenly assumed masks of great concern. One little man left the party. Through one of the windows he could be seen dashing off in the direction of the great wall. Drawers stood puzzled.

Persum turned to him.

"Some of our people have just sent a message of distress. They have been accosted by several Griffs and are in serious danger. We don't know what we can do, though," he ended hopelessly.

"Where is all this taking place?" Drawers inquired with an unsuccessful attempt to appear calm.

Persum gestured for him to follow.

Back to the gate they swiftly retraced their steps. The gates were slightly ajar. A hundred yards over to the right Drawers could see two of the golden people--one a woman, perched precariously in the branches of a gigantic fern.

At the base of the fern were two tremendous beasts. Each must have been at least eight feet long. They stood on four bony legs--their bodies big and broad and shaggy as a grizzly bear, which animal they resembled more than anything else, excepting for their incongruously thin legs and grotesquely large mouths. Mouths almost two thirds the size of an alligator and fiercely reinforced by large, yellow fangs.

The beasts were tearing away at the foot of the fern. It began to shake and shiver and lean heavily to one side. It was obvious that inevitably they would weaken the trunk so that it would give way and drop the two little people to a hideous death below.

Drawers thought fast. Who was he anyway? Virtually an outcast from Earth. Unwanted and unnecessary. Here, for the first time in his life, someone had treated him as though he were a leader. They pretended, at least, that he was an honored guest. His bulkiness, his crudeness had been discreetly overlooked. Possibly, if he tried, he could distract the attention of those man-eating beasts long enough for the golden people to run to safety behind the walls of the city. He would try. It would be his token of thanks for all their kindness.

Without a word of his intentions he swiftly pushed himself through the opening in the gate. His earthly muscles covered prodigious distances at each stride across the terrain of this lighter planet. He shouted once, a sort of half-hearted battle cry. The beasts wheeled about at the sound and snarled viciously.

Drawers slowed up. He was within ten yards of them now. For an instant he sparred for position. Then he flung himself forward at the nearest of the two creatures with all of his earthly speed and bulk. He crashed head on, and surprisingly enough, the animal fell back on its haunches with a sort of dazed expression.

Drawers' powerful arms arched about the creature's neck. His tremendous biceps bulged. Slowly, terribly, he tightened his grip. Applied more and more pressure.

The second Griff had been running around and around in circles. It seemed undecided, whether to attack or await the outcome of this struggle.

The Griff beneath him panted in agony. Madly it thrashed about, flinging him from side to side, but he held on like grim death. Bending its neck back, back. And suddenly, when it seemed that his strength was ebbing and that this creature would never give in, he was rewarded by a loud snap, and the beast's head hung grotesquely from his hands.

He let go and the entire body slumped limply to the ground.

Again he sparred with the other animal, but this one beat him to the attack, catapulting itself straight through the air at him. Drawers side-stepped the charge, and then his right fist descended with crushing force alongside of the Griff's ribs. There was a cracking noise as its ribs stove in like papier-mache.

It was squealing terrifiedly, and now Drawers knew his own power and illimitable strength. These Griffs, big and brutal, were hardly a match for him. Born to resist a gravity of more than twice that of his planet his bones were heavier, more compact. His muscles harder, his speed dazzling.

Again and again he came to grips with the Griff. Once its bestial fangs closed upon his shoulders and he just about tore away, his skin ripped and bleeding. His own breath was coming in great choking gasps, and his legs seemed to sag from the effort, but around and around the Griff he danced, his fists smashing a crescendo pitch of hate and power and destruction. And at every blow he could feel something give. Could hear the wind go whistling out of the weakening Griff. Could sense its great, untamed strength dissipating ounce by ounce.

Then he closed in for the kill. In a fever of fury he crashed his two big fists in bludgeoning hate to the Griff's head. It tottered to the ground--dazed. He leaped upon its back and grabbed for its head. Instinctively it eluded him and almost threw him from his perch. He grabbed a fistful of fur and retained his position. In a fit of inspiration, he began pounding sledge-hammer blows on the thing's back. His arms worked in a sort of savage rhythm, descending and rising in a blur of speed and power. And as he pounded away it seemed that this thing would never die; things were growing hazy ... he was tired, oh, so tired ... he was barely conscious of striking and from far, far in the distance his blows echoed back a tirade of destruction.

"What are you beating at, friend?" came a distant voice.

Drawers stopped suddenly.

"There is nothing but a mass of bleeding pulp beneath you."

Drawers started to get off the Griff's back. He staggered erratically. The world began to turn around and round, around and round.

Someone was leading him. He followed blindly. The next he knew he was lying back amid a mass of billowy perfumed cushions. Someone was forcing a sweet, golden liquid between his lips. He drank greedily, some of the liquid spilling down his shirt. He wiped his lips with his hand and settled back, relaxed.

Through half-closed eyelids he peered out at the small golden people. Then, in a tired, happy sort of a voice, rumbled, "I guess those two weren't hurt."

Persum, good old Persum, was standing there. Two radiant beings stood beside him.

"They are very grateful," stated Persum by proxy. "They wish to thank you personally."

"Aw, 'twas nothing."

"Nothing!" came an excited thought wave. "Nothing to kill single-handed and weaponless two of the most terrifying beasts this planet has ever known? Nothing to risk your life to save two alien people whom you did not even know? You are a hero! A great hero! And we are deeply grateful to you."

Now the woman came timidly toward him. Drawers breathed heavily with appreciation. A thing of exquisite, unutterable delight. A living poem of brilliance and charm. The most adorable, fascinating, of all the golden people he had met so far.

She barely topped the five foot mark. She was dressed in a little bathing-suit-like affair that had two bright stripes running up the front, and two small points extending down from the hips. Her eyes were flaked with tiny gold motes of color and seemed filled to overflowing with tender compassion.

Michel Drawers couldn't help noticing the feminine, unassumed grace of her movements, the smooth, round contours of her face, her soft, perfectly proportioned curves. The glory-sheen of her hair that was arched up a few inches at the brow, and then allowed to fall in glistening strands down and around her shoulders.

Here were beauty and goodness incarnate.

Without further consideration Drawers knew he was falling hopelessly in love. Knew it in the maddening fashion that only a man who yearns for the admittedly impossible can know.

"Thank you," she was thinking. And then, "Oh, how _can_ I ever thank you enough? You were so brave, so fine, so strong, so daring."

"Ah--it was nothing. I mean--" Drawers knew he was speaking tripe. Common everyday, ordinary tripe, but he couldn't think in the presence of this dazzling little creature. All his senses, except his pounding heartbeat, seemed locked in a state of suspended animation.

Then he was tired--more tired than he thought anyone could ever be. He tried to sustain himself, but his words lisped off, and nature demanded that he rest. He fell back upon the radiant pillows, asleep before his head had indented its form upon their softness.

So he couldn't have seen, as Persum did, the soft, lingering caress that the golden girl bestowed upon his brow before she hastily retired from the room.

The ensuing days were happy ones for Michel Drawers. He was entertained royally by the elite of the golden people. The dazzling little woman he had rescued, along with Persum, were always at his side, acting as a sort of self-appointed escort service. They showed him their great city, strangely devoid of any mechanical devices or any utilization of natural laws.

He was introduced to the nation's leading thinkers who expounded learnedly upon almost incomprehensible theories. He was shown the ideal, simple, quiet life led by most of the populace and noted without being told the general tone of happiness, good will, and the utter lack of crime of any sort.

The complete and utter lack of sensible equipment convinced him more than ever that he should and could repay in some ways the unusual kindness bestowed upon him.

It was heart warming to watch the jubilation upon the faces of the workers as he arranged a simple pulley for them, and showed them how their lifting could be done with comparative ease. He shuddered to think of the work that must have gone into building some of those high, glistening towers, with the utilization of only crude man-power.

He watched the eyes of the scientific men pop with incredulity as he showed them the principle of the wheel. They were chagrined that they could have overlooked so simple a principle, but Drawers knew that the discovery of the wheel on Earth had been nothing but a lucky accident. If man had not discovered it by accident, it might never have been known at all. Then, too, he began to understand the utter lack of mechanical equipment. The wheel was one of the fundamental and most vital of parts in all moving machinery. Without the wheel, it would be difficult to construct a usable pulley, or a feasible vehicle.

There was another thing he accomplished. He constructed the first wagon these people had ever seen. They viewed it with insatiable curiosity.

But the sight of the golden men happily pulling their loads through the streets on wagons irked him. These people were not made for hard physical tabor. It took a heavy toll. He questioned Persum as to the absence of beasts of burden.

Persum thought a moment and then said, "There has never been anything but very small animals on our planet as far as we know. Nothing we might use for beasts of burden. Anyway," he concluded, "why should the animals perform our tasks for us? Why place any poor beast in bondage?"

"And why not?" asked Drawers. "It would be poetic justice to place the Griffs in bondage and force them to pull your wagons for you."

"The Griffs!" thought Persum with a note of astonishment. "Surely you are joking. Who could subdue those savage beasts so that they would labor peaceably? And even then, who would care to drive them and tend to them? It would be sheer suicide."

Drawers ignored the last statement. "Have you some strong rope that I might use?" he asked. "Some tough vegetable fiber--perhaps the material you use for pulling those blocks through the street."

"Why certainly," Persum replied. "You are welcome to all you need."

"Thank you," said Drawers. "I have a crazy sort of an idea."

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.