In the morning they rested in a small valley where a trickle of water coarsed through its head. They rested under a pinion tree, the women receiving some solace from the flimsy natural roof over their heads.
Sten slept three hours, then rose without waking the others and scouted ahead. He consulted his map and climbed a tall hill to search for the mountain range they were seeking.
When he returned, Johnathon and Marta were gone.
"He said he had to go," Karl explained. "Marta couldn't take this, and he wouldn't go on without her. He said he knew he couldn't make you understand. And asked you to take care of your father's books. He hoped that someday he could join us in the valley."
"Can he stand living there?" Sten asked glumly.
"Franz said once that it had been done before. I guess they don't bother you much if you obey."
Sten squatted on his heels and stared out over the desert where Johnathon and Marta had disappeared, sending them a silent God-speed.
When they started out that afternoon, Stella was still sobbing. Karl tried to console her, but at every new turn they took, there was fresh terror in her eyes. Kathryn walked along with her, helping her over the rough places and trying to cheer her, but she couldn't conceal her own terror as she stared ahead at the vast distances.
They rested at sundown. While the men were bringing water, Stella rose and started back down the hillside. Kathryn was thrown aside when she tried to stop her, and soon the girl was running madly down the hill, shrieking and sobbing wildly.