A POSTSCRIPT


This book was written over the next few months after we returned to Hollis. The typescript was all finished, hand-corrected, and about ready to be handed in to my editor at Dell when the letter arrived with the Phnom Penh postmark. It had appeared in the well and Sir Malcolm had forwarded it along to me.

The letter was written in a familiar hand with a thaptor quill pen in watery ink on dun-colored parchment. It read like this:


Shondakor,

9th xapac, 20th chore, fifth day of third zome. Dear Mr. Carter,

We hope you arrived in Cambodia safely and that Mrs. Carter was not too distraught at your lengthy absence. By now you must be back in New York working on new books.

Your friends here all ask to be remembered to you. That rascal Glypto has been making life miserable for poor old Abziz. Lukor and the others have returned, the missing Mind Wizard is dead, and Ylana and Tomar are back safely―I’ll tell you all about it when I have a chance to write you at length. Taran is a cadet in training with the legions, and is having the time of his life.

Just the other day we were out hunting along the edges of the Kumala, and who should appear but Bozo! He wouldn’t let anybody else near him, but seemed glad to see me. And took my sleeve in his mouth and drew me over to the edge of the woods. Then he growled and before long Mrs. Bozo came out of the brush, still very timid of people.

She was shy, but the pups were anything but! Yes, the pups (there is no other word for them, if you can imagine fat miniature Bozos about eleven inches long, scarcely able to toddle). There are eight of them in all, four little boy-pups and four little girl-pups, and the cutest fat little fellows imaginable!

They came waddling right up to be petted and licked my hands and sniffed at my ankles and in general behaved with complete fearlessness―under the proud eyes of Bozo, who sat with tongue lolling, grinning froggishly all the while, and under the more-than-slightly-nervous eyes of their mother, who doesn’t hold with human beings at all and seemed convinced I would kidnap her babies on the spot. She didn’t relax until a whuff! from their father sent them waddling back to her side.

Just thought you’d like to know how things turned out. So the Bozo mystery is solved, and there’s another story with a happy ending for you.


Very best wishes,

JANDAR OF CALLISTO


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