didn't leave a mark; but he flew into a terrific rage, shouting:

"Attention!" in a loud voice. The sailor immediately

straightened up, faced his officer, clicked his heels together

and saluted. "Pig!" roared the Baron, and struck the fellow

across the face, breaking his nose. I grabbed von Schoenvorts'

arm and jerked him away before he could strike again, if such had

been his intention, and then he raised his little stick to strike

me; but before it descended the muzzle of my pistol was against

his belly and he must have seen in my eyes that nothing would

suit me better than an excuse to pull the trigger. Like all his

kind and all other bullies, von Schoenvorts was a coward at

heart, and so he dropped his hand to his side and started to turn

away; but I pulled him back, and there before his men I told him

that such a thing must never again occur--that no man was to be

struck or otherwise punished other than in due process of the

laws that we had made and the court that we had established.

All the time the sailor stood rigidly at attention, nor could I

tell from his expression whether he most resented the blow his

officer had struck him or my interference in the gospel of the

Kaiser-breed. Nor did he move until I said to him: "Plesser, you

may return to your quarters and dress your wound." Then he

saluted and marched stiffly off toward the U-33.

Just before dusk we moved out into the bay a hundred yards from

shore and dropped anchor, for I felt that we should be safer

there than elsewhere. I also detailed men to stand watch during

the night and appointed Olson officer of the watch for the entire

night, telling him to bring his blankets on deck and get what

rest he could. At dinner we tasted our first roast Caprona

antelope, and we had a mess of greens that the cook had found

growing along the stream. All during the meal von Schoenvorts

was silent and surly.

After dinner we all went on deck and watched the unfamiliar

scenes of a Capronian night--that is, all but von Schoenvorts.

There was less to see than to hear. From the great inland lake

behind us came the hissing and the screaming of countless saurians.

Above us we heard the flap of giant wings, while from the shore

rose the multitudinous voices of a tropical jungle--of a warm,

damp atmosphere such as must have enveloped the entire earth

during the Palezoic and Mesozoic eras. But here were intermingled

the voices of later eras--the scream of the panther, the roar of

the lion, the baying of wolves and a thunderous growling which

we could attribute to nothing earthly but which one day we were