The dream-makers were the most astonishing social phenomena, I think, of all.

Denied by their circumscribed environment the wider experiences of us of the outer world, the Murians had perfected an amazing system of escape through the imagination.
They were, too, intensely musical.

Their favourite instruments were double flutes; immensely complex pipe-organs; harps, great and small.
They had another remarkable instrument made up of a double octave of small drums which gave forth percussions remarkably disturbing to the emotional centres.
It was this love of music that gave rise to one of the few truly humorous incidents of our caverned life.

Larry came to me--it was just after our fourth sleep, I remember.
"Come on to a concert," he said.
We skimmed off to one of the bridge garrisons.

Rador called the two-score guards to attention; and then, to my utter stupefaction, the whole company, O'Keefe leading them, roared out the anthem, "God Save the King." They sang--in a closer approach to the English than might have been expected scores of miles below England's level.