"Don't worry. I told you it was nocturnal—at this hour it's hunting a good safe spot to lie up for the day."
The girl was wearily pulling on her coveralls; her fire-blue eyes were clouded with hopelessness as they gazed into the gray dawn. "Perhaps it would have been better if it had seen us—better than what's ahead of us."
Torcred did not answer; he was frowning in thought. Suddenly he rose to his feet—wincing a little as he put his weight on them; with gentle firmness he turned the girl around and faced her toward the west, suggesting, "Let's go back a little way."
"Back! Are you crazy, terrapin?"
"Remember the wreck of an armadillo we saw about a quarter of a mile back? I want to get something there."
"That wreck was years old," sniffed Ladna. "There couldn't be any supplies left in it."
"I have an idea," said Torcred. Then, as he saw her unyielding disbelief, "I intend to capture the panzer."
And he trudged off purposefully to the west. The girl followed, still protesting in an undertone, as all their argument had been carried on. "You are sunstruck! That monster—and we've not got so much as a knife—You might as well try to tear down that mountain peak," she pointed toward a distant blue height, wreathed in cottony clouds, "with your bare hands."
"Maybe I will," said the Terrapin.