Finally he stopped and slipped off Flame’s back. He walked toward the mares but did not go close enough to frighten the foals. He sat down on the grass and waited for the mares to come to him.

He did not have long to wait, for the adult members of the band had accepted him long ago. The mares came closer but the suckling foals stayed behind their mothers, a little timid, a little afraid. It was they whom he wanted to make his friends. Every day he spent a short while with them, trying to win their confidence and acceptance.

He called to these long-legged, furry-coated sons and daughters of Flame, waiting for them to lose their shyness and come to him. But today they showed no curiosity over his presence and did not move from behind their mothers’ protective bodies. Steve waited a long while before finally giving up. He got to his feet, regretting that he had made no progress.

On the way down the valley he passed a group of yearling colts at play. He called to one of them but the colt took no notice of him. This was the one whose broken leg he had cared for the summer before and whom he had intended to take home. But his parents had given him the choice of using the money he earned each year to maintain a horse of his own or continuing his summer visits with Pitch, and he had chosen the latter. He couldn’t give up Flame and Blue Valley.

Steve walked on, aware that he didn’t feel as well as he had only a short while before. Perhaps it was due to the blunt rebuff he’d received from the foals and the yearling colt … especially the colt, for they had been such fast friends the previous summer. The colt had grown up and away from him during the months he’d been away.

He brushed the sweat from his face, realizing suddenly that the weather too had changed. The sun’s rays had finally penetrated the cool air of the valley. No longer was the day crystal clear but heavy with tropic heat. Steve decided, as he approached the end wall, that the afternoon was no warmer than any other in the past. It was just oppressive by comparison with those wonderful earlier hours.

Returning to camp, he made himself a sandwich, and stayed within the cave to eat it. Finally he rose from his chair and went out on the ledge to stand in the sun again. He felt the beads of perspiration come to his forehead, but he didn’t leave the open ledge. His eyes and feet shifted uneasily as he looked down the valley.

Somehow, just as the weather had changed so had he. He was restless, even becoming concerned again about that floating white patch on the water. It was all so silly, so foolish. There was no reason to be concerned. He had decided once and for all it was something that had been caused by the chemical reaction of gases and water. It would be gone by now, swallowed by the sea just as the meteor had been.

He walked from one side of the ledge to the other, still ignoring the relief from the sun which the cave offered him. If it was the floating patch that was bothering him, why not make certain that it had long since disappeared? If his mind would not listen to reason, the only way to rid himself of his apprehension was to go and look again. He’d find nothing, and that would make everything all right.

Taking his knapsack and lantern, he went up the trail. The valley was very quiet; it seemed that the birds too had sought refuge from the heat.