Manchurian Books

George looked at Jarvo, bounding up the stony way as easily as
if he were bounding down.
"Ah well now," he said, "you know on the moon an ordinary man would
weigh only twenty-six or seven pounds. Why not here? We aren't held
down by any map!"
They laughed at the pleasant enormity of the idea and were hurrying
on when Akko, behind them, broke his settled silence.
"In America," he said, "a man feels like a mountain. Here he feels
like a man."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded St. George uneasily. But Akko
said no more, and St. George and Amory, with a disquieting idea that
each was laughing at the other, let the matter drop.
From there on the way was easier, leveling occasionally, frequently
swelling to gentle ridges, and at last winding up a steep trail that
was not difficult to keep in spite of the fast falling night. And at
length Jarvo, rounding a huge hummock where converging ridges met,
scrambled over the last of these and threw himself on the ground.
"Now," he said simply.
The two men stood beside him and looked down.


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