They were something else, something other, something better than all this black savagery in which he lived.

They were above and beyond, in an unattainable paradise which he vividly remembered, for which he yearned, but to which he did not know the way, and which, dimly sensing the ending that comes to all things, might have passed into the ultimate nothingness which had already overtaken Skipper and the _Arangi_.
In vain did the old man play to gain Jerry's heart of love.

He could not bid against Jerry's many reservations and memories, although he did win absolute faithfulness and loyalty.

Not passionately, as he would have fought to the death for Skipper, but devotedly would he have fought to the death for Nalasu.

And the old man never dreamed but what he had won all of Jerry's heart.
* * * * * Came the day of the Annos, when one of them made the invention, which was thick-plaited sandals to armour the soles of their feet against the poisoned thorns with which Nalasu had taken three of their lives.