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it as it neared him.
    “That’s three of them I’ve killed,” said Harper in a dogged voice. “There seem to be more.”
    “Did you hear my news?” asked Moran sardonically.
    “Yes,” said Harper. “How’ll we get back to the Nadine ?”
    “Oh, we’ll fight our way through,” said Moran, as sardonically as before. “We’ll practice splendid heroism, giving battle to ants who think we’re other ants trying to rob them of some fragments of an over-sized dead centipede. A splendid cause to fight for, Harper!”
    He felt an almost overpowering sense of irony. The quantity of bessendium he’d seen was riches incalculable. The mere pocketfull of crystals in his pocket would make any man wealthy if he could get to a settled planet and sell them. And there was much, much more back in the cargo-hold of the wreck. He’d seen it.
    But his own situation was unchanged. Bessendium could be hidden somehow,—perhaps between the inner and outer hulls of the Nadine . But it was not possible to land the Nadine at any space-port with an extra man aboard her. In a sense, Moran might be one of the richest men in the galaxy in his salvagers’ right to the treasure in the wrecked Malabar’s hold. But he could not use that treasure to buy his way to a landing on a colonized world.
    Carol’s voice; she was frightened.
    “ Something’s coming! It’s—terribly big! It’s coming out of the mist! “
----
    Moran pushed past Harper in the trench that ended at the wreck’s lock-door. He moved on until he could see over the edge of that trench as it shallowed. Now there were not less than forty of the giant ants about the remnants of the monstrous centipede Moran had killed. They moved about in great agitation. There was squabbling. Angry, whining stridulations filled the air beneath the louder and more gruesome sounds from fartheraway places. It appeared that scouts and foragers from two different ant-cities had come upon the treasure of dead—if twitching—meat of Moran’s providing. They differed about where the noisesome booty should be taken. Some ants pulled angrily against each other, whining shrilly. He saw individual ants running frantically away in two different directions. They would be couriers, carrying news of what amounted to a frontier incident in the city-state civilization of the ants.
    Then Moran saw the giant thing of which Carol spoke. It was truly huge, and it had a gross, rounded body, and a ridiculously small thorax, and its head was tiny and utterly mild in expression. It walked with an enormous, dainty deliberation, placing small spiked feet at the end of fifteen-foot legs very delicately in place as it moved. Its eyes were multiple and huge, and its forelegs though used so deftly for walking had a horrifying set of murderous, needle-sharp saw-teeth along their edges.
    It looked at the squabbling ants with its gigantic eyes that somehow appeared like dark glasses worn by a monstrosity. It moved primly, precisely toward them. Two small black creatures tugged at a hairy section of a giant centipede’s leg. The great pale-green creature—a mantis; a praying mantis twenty feet tall in its giraffe-like walking position—the great creature loomed over them, looking down as through sunglasses. A foreleg moved like lightning. An ant weighing nearly as much as a man stridulated shrilly, terribly, as it was borne aloft. The mantis closed its arm-like forelegs upon it, holding it as if piously and benignly contemplating it. Then it ate it, very much as a man might eat an apple, without regard to the convulsive writhings of its victim.
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    It moved on toward the denser fracas among the ants. Suddenly it raised its ghastly saw-toothed forelegs in an extraordinary gesture. It was the mantis’s spectral attitude, which seemed a pose of holding out its arms in benediction. But its eyes remained blind-seeming and enigmatic,—again like dark glasses.
    Then it struck. Daintily, it dined upon an ant. Upon another.