Next morning the chase resumed. The dogwas well; it seemed that the moths did not attack wantonly. Perhaps they died whendelivered of their toxin, in the manner of bees. Probably a man could exposehimself safely, if he only treated them deferentially. That might explain theboy's survival.

      The trail led deeper into the badlands.Now they would discover who had more courage and determination: pursuer orfugitive.

      The boy had obviously haunted this areafor some time. If there were lethal radiation he should have died already. Inany event, the Master could probably withstand any dosage the boy could. So ifthe lad hoped to escape by hiding in the hot region, he would be disappointed.

      Still, the Master could not entirelyrepress his apprehension as the trail led into a landscape of stunted anddeformed trees. Surely these had been touched. And game was scarce, tokeningthe irregular ravages of the fringe shrews. If radiation were not present now,it had not departed long since. -

      He caught up to the boy again. The hunchedconditlon of the youngster's body was more evident by full daylight and hispiebald skin more striking. And the way he ran-heels high, knees bent, so thatthe whole foot never touched the ground-forelimbs dropping down periodicallyfor support-this was uncanny. Had this boy ever shared a human home?

      "Come!" the Weaponless called."Yield to me and I will spare your life and give you food."

      But as he had expected, the fugitive paidno attention. Probably this wilderness denizen had never learned to speak.

      The trees became mere shrubs, scabbed withdiscolored woodrinds and sap-bleeding abrasions, and their leaves were limp,sticky, asymmetric efforts. Then only shriveled sticks protruded from theburned soil, twisted grotesquely. Finally all life was gone, leaving cakedashes and greenish glass. The hound whined, afraid of the dead bare terrain, andthe Master felt rather like whining himself, for this was grim.