But never in the daytime or so close as this had been. He had read that most meteors were no larger than a grain of sand, becoming extinguished long before they reached the earth. But there’d been cases too of meteors so large that they resisted all the burning friction of the earth’s atmosphere and fell intact, digging great holes in the ground.

Steve got to his feet and walked slowly to the pool, where he bathed his throbbing head. A meteor, then, was what it had been. It had almost landed on Azul Island. Where had it struck? Somewhere close, very close to the west. Now it must be at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea.

He turned to the band. The mares had broken their circle. But they were not yet grazing, nor did they allow the foals to leave their sides. With short, incessant neighs and nips they kept the long-legged colts and fillies from straying away.

Steve left the pool and climbed the narrow trail up along the end wall. Reaching a broad ledge that overlooked Blue Valley, he went into the cave behind it. Just within the entrance but far enough back to be protected against any driving rains were the stove, table, chairs and canned provisions. But Steve wasn’t thinking of food. Whatever appetite he’d had was gone. He got one of the large lanterns, a flashlight and Pitch’s binoculars. Then, leaving the cave, he continued up the trail until he reached the great opening where the underground stream rushed out from blackness to daylight, plummeting downward in a silken sheet to the pool far below.

For a second Steve stopped. He turned to look at Flame and the band, then lit the lantern and went into the great opening. He walked to the right of the underground stream. Only when he rounded a long bend in the tunnel did he leave completely the light of day. He walked a little slower then, his hand occasionally touching the jagged rock on either side of him. Finally he came to a fork leading to many tunnels. Steve raised the lantern and saw the chalked figures and letters Pitch had marked on every wall of the explored passageways. Steve knew where he was going and how to get there, but he had learned to take nothing for granted in this underground maze. He made certain he had the right passageway before going on.

He continued for fifteen minutes or more, stopping only at intersections of other tunnels to cast the light upon the walls. His lantern bobbed from the short, mincing strides he had to take in the low-ceilinged passageways. If he hurried, he thought, he might be in time to look upon a sea still angry with the searing it had received.

Just ahead, a small square of daylight lay on the floor of the tunnel. Reaching it, he stopped and looked up the high ventilation shaft that pierced the stone. Pitch’s rope hung down the shaft, but Steve had no intention of climbing to the outer ledge that was directly above him. He’d be able to look out upon the western sea without doing that. He began walking forward again, his head tucked between his shoulders, his back bent more and more as the tunnel became smaller.