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Chapter XII
The Fire-breathing Monster
As the car came lower and Rhamon breathed the hot dusty air of the plains he began to wish he were back in his lovely high valley where the air was cool and sweet. Now they began to pass oxcarts on the road. Small houses made of dried mud bricks were scattered here and there. People went riding by in jouncing little horse carts. Soldiers were to be seen lolling about everywhere. The long trip down the mountain was ended. They had reached the city.
