Finn said hollowly, "Why do we worry ourselves? Food is ever more difficult, and we are the last of all men."
"No, no," spoke Reak. "Not the last. We saw others on the green mound."
"That was long ago," said Gisa. "Now they are surely dead."
"Perhaps they have found a source of food," suggested Reak.
Finn rose to his feet, looked across the plain. "Who knows? Perhaps there is a more pleasant land beyond the horizon."
"There is nothing anywhere but waste and evil creatures," snapped Gisa.
"What could be worse than here?" Finn argued calmly.
No one could find grounds for disagreement.
"Here is what I propose," said Finn. "Notice this tall peak. Notice the layers of hard air. They bump into the peak, they bounce off, they float in and out and disappear past the edge of sight. Let us all climb this peak, and when a sufficiently large bank of air passes, we will throw ourselves on top, and allow it to carry us to the beautiful regions which may exist just out of sight."
There was argument. The old man Tagart protested his feebleness; the women derided the possibility of the bountiful regions Finn envisioned, but presently, grumbling and arguing, they began to clamber up the pinnacle.