they skimmed thick growths of trees, so tightly packed that from the
air they resembled a matted carpet of green-blue. And to cut through
such a forest would be an impossible task.

The four in the flitter seldom spoke. Raf kept his attention on the
controls. Sudden currents of air were tricky here, and he had to be
constantly alert to hold the small flyer on an even keel. His glimpses
of what lay below were only snatched ones.

At last it was necessary to zoom far above the vegetation of the lower
slopes, to reach an altitude safe enough to clear the peaks ahead.
Since the air supply within the windshield was constant they need not
fear lack of oxygen. But Raf was privately convinced, as they soared,
that the range might well compare in height with those Asian mountains
which dominated all the upflung reaches of his native world.

When they were over the sharp points of that chain disaster almost
overtook them. A freakish air current caught the flitter as if in a
giant hand, and Raf fought for control as they lost altitude past the
margin of safety. Had he not allowed for just such a happening they
might have been smashed against one of the rock tips over which they
skimmed to a precarious safety. Raf, his mouth dry, his hands sweating
on the controls, took them up--higher than was necessary--to coast
above the last of that rocky spine to see below the beginning of the
downslopes leading to the plains the range cut in half. He heard
Hobart draw a hissing breath.

"That was a close call." Lablet's precise, lecturer's voice cut
through the drone of the motor.