“Look, Tara of Helium!” he cried.  “A city!  As I am Ga—­as I am Turan the panthan, a city.”

Far in the distance the domes and walls and slender towers of a city shone in the rising sun.  Quickly the man seized the control and the ship dropped rapidly behind a low range of intervening hills, for well Turan knew that they must not be seen until they could discover whether friend or foe inhabited the strange city.  Chances were that they were far from the abode of friends and so must the panthan move with the utmost caution; but there was a city and where a city was, was water, even though it were a deserted city, and food if it were inhabited.

To the red man food and water, even in the citadel of an enemy, meant food and drink for Tara of Helium.  He would accept it from friends or he would take it from enemies.  Just so long as it was there he would have it—­and there was shown the egotism of the fighting man, though Turan did not see it, nor Tara who came from a long line of fighting men; but Ghek might have smiled had he known how.

Turan permitted the flier to drift closer behind the screening hills, and then when he could advance no farther without fear of discovery, he dropped the craft gently to ground in a little ravine, and leaping over the side made her fast to a stout tree.  For several moments they discussed their plans—­whether it would be best to wait where they were until darkness hid their movements and then approach the city in search of food and water, or approach it now, taking advantage of what cover they could, until they could glean something of the nature of its inhabitants.

It was Turan’s plan which finally prevailed.  They would approach as close as safety dictated in the hope of finding water outside the city; food, too, perhaps.  If they did not they could at least reconnoiter the ground by daylight, and then when night came Turan could quickly come close to the city and in comparative safety prosecute his search for food and drink.

Following the ravine upward they finally topped the summit of the ridge, from which they had an excellent view of that part of the city which lay nearest them, though themselves hidden by the brush behind which they crouched.  Ghek had resumed his rykor, which had suffered less than either Tara or Turan through their enforced fast.

The first glance at the city, now much closer than when they had first discovered it, revealed the fact that it was inhabited.  Banners and pennons broke from many a staff.  People were moving about the gate before them.  The high white walls were paced by sentinels at far intervals.  Upon the roofs of higher buildings the women could be seen airing the sleeping silks and furs.  Turan watched it all in silence for some time.

“I do not know them,” he said at last.  “I cannot guess what city this may be.  But it is an ancient city.  Its people have no fliers and no firearms.  It must be old indeed.”