back toward the mountain on which Vale had occupied an observation
post. It was actually a million-year-old crater wall that he climbed
presently. And he took a considerable chance. As he climbed, for some
time he moved in plain view. If the crew of the ship in Boulder Lake
were watching, they'd see him rather than Jill. If they took action,
it would be against him and not Jill. Somehow he felt better equipped
to defend himself than Jill would be.

He climbed. Again the world was completely normal, commonplace. There
were mountain peaks on every hand. Some had been volcanoes
originally, some had not. With each five hundred feet of climbing, he
could see still more mountains. The sky was cloudless now. He climbed
a thousand feet. Two. Three. He could see between peaks for a full
thirty miles to the spot where he'd been at daybreak. But he was
making his ascent on the back flank of this particular mountain. He
could not see Boulder Lake from there. On the other hand, no creature
at Boulder Lake should be able to see him. Only an exploring party
which might otherwise sight Jill would be apt to detect him, a slowly
moving speck against a mountainside.

He reached the level at which Vale's post had been assigned. He moved
carefully and cautiously around intervening masses of stone. The wind
blew past him, making humming noises in his ears. Once he dislodged a
small stone and it went bouncing and clattering down the slope he'd
climbed.

He saw where Vale could have been as he watched something come down
from the sky. He found Vale's sleeping bag, and the ashes of his
campfire. Here too was the communicator. It had been smashed by a huge
stone lifted and dropped upon it, but before that it had been moved.