"And there was another man living in our village, who they called Anger-Martyr, you wouldn't remember him, you were witless then, and this Anger-Martyr was always annoyed at us and he used to ask: Why? Why is it light in the daytime and dark at night? Why is it beetles that get you drunk but not ants? Why are the deadlings interested in women but not men? The dead-lings stole two wives from him, one after the other. The first one was before my time, but I remember the second, he went about asking why, he asked, did they steal my wife and not me? He deliberately walked whole days and nights in the forest, so's he could be picked up and find his wives, or one of them at least, but of course it didn't work, they don't want men, it's women they need, that's how they're made, and they're not going to change their ways because of any Anger-Martyr... He used to ask us as well why we had to work in the fields when there was more than enough food in the forest, just pour some ferment on the ground then eat your fill. The elder says to him: don't work if you don't want to, nobody's grabbing your arm ... but he still went on: why, but why ... or he would go up to Buster, Why says he, is Upper Village grown over with mushrooms and ours has nary a one? At first Buster quietly explains: the Accession happened up there and not here yet, that's all about it. But he goes on: Why haven't we had the Accession, Buster, after such a long time? What if it hasn't come then asks Buster, you miss it or something? Anger-Martyr won't leave off, he wore Buster out. Buster started shouting, all the village heard him, he waved his fists about and ran off to the elder to complain, the elder got angry as well and called the village together. They all set on Anger-Martyr to punish him, but they couldn't catch him... He used to get onto the old man as well an awful lot At first, the old man stopped going to his house to eat then he tried hiding from him but eventually he couldn't stand it: Leave me alone, says he, the food won't go into my mouth because of you, how should I know - why? The City knows why and that's all about it. Anger-Martyr went off to the City and never came back...
Greeny-yellow blotches swam slowly by to right and left, ripe dope-toadstools puffed deeply and hurled out their spores in ginger fountains; a wandering forest wasp tried to sting their eyes, prompting a hundred-yard dash to escape; multi-colored water spiders clung to the lianas fussing about building their constructions; jumping trees alighted and hunched for another jump before, sensing the presence of people, they froze and pretended to be ordinary trees - there was nothing for the eye to rest on, nothing to record. And nothing to think about either, since to think of Karl and last night and the drowned village meant delirium.
"Anger-Martyr was a good man - it was he and Hopalong found you beyond the Reed-beds. They went off toward the Anthills, but drifted over somehow to the Reed-beds and found you there and dragged you in, or rather Anger-Martyr dragged you in, Hopalong just walked behind picking up the things that fell out of you... Ever such a lot of things he picked up, then, he said he got scared and threw them all away. No such thing ever grew in our village, or could ever. Then Anger-Martyr took the clothes off you, very strange clothes you had, nobody could understand where things like that grew or how... Then he cut them up and planted them, thinking they'd grow. But nothing ever grew for him not even a shoot, and he started going around again asking why, if you cut up and planted anybody's clothes they grew, but yours, Dummy, never even sprouted... He pestered you a lot, gave you no peace, but you had no wits then, just muttered something or other, like that one with no face, and covered your face with your hand. Otherwise he'd never have left you alone. After that lots of men went over beyond the Reed-beds - Buster, Hopalong, even the elder went, hoping to find another one like you. But they never did... Then they brought me to you. Marry him, say they, while you can, get married, you'll have a husband, he's a stranger, so what? So are you, sort of. I'm a stranger too. Dummy. This is how it was: the deadlings had kidnapped mother and me, it was a night without moon..."
The terrain was again beginning to rise, but the humidity remained, although the forest did begin to thin out. The root-snags, decayed boughs, and piles of rotting lianas had disappeared. The greenery had gone, all around was yellow and orange. The trees were now slender, and the swamp had changed oddly - it was now level, without moss and without mud-heaps. The tangled web of undergrowth had disappeared and visibility was good to left and right. The grass on the verges was now softer and juicier, blade against blade as if someone had specially selected and planted them.
