ccupy this small,
vulgar, contemptible world, could not possess very high aims and was
not worth much. How this sordid struggle for an hour or two of physical
existence could ever be regarded as a deeply earnest and important
business was beyond his comprehension The atmosphere choked him, he
longed for air and space. Thrusting his way through to the side of the
ravine, he began to climb the overhanging cliff, swinging his way up
from tree to tree.

When he arrived at the top, Branchspell beat down on him with such
brutal, white intensity that he saw that there was no staying there. He
looked around, to ascertain what part of the country he had come to. He
had travelled about ten miles from the sea, as the crow flies. The bare,
undulating wolds sloped straight down toward it; the water glittered in
the distance; and on the horizon he was just able to make out Swaylone's
Island. Looking north, the land continued sloping upward as far as he
could see. Over the crest--that is to say, some miles away--a line
of black, fantastic-shaped rocks of quite another character showed
themselves; this was probably Threal. Behind these again, against
the sky, perhaps fifty or even a hundred miles off, were the peaks of
Lichstorm, most of them covered with greenish snow that glittered in the
sunlight.

They were stupendously high and of weird contours. Most of them were
conical to the top, but from the top, great masses of mountain balanced
themselves at what looked like impossible angles--overhanging without
apparent support. A land like that promised something new, he thought:
extraordinary inhabitants. The idea took shape in his mind to go there,
and to travel as swiftly as possible, it might even be feasible to get
there before sunset. It was less the mountains themselves that attracted
him than the country which lay beyond--the prospect of setting eyes on
the blue sun, which he judged to be the wonder of wonders in Tormance.

The direct route was over the hills, but that was out of the question,
because of the killing heat and the absence of shade. He guessed,
however, that the valley would not take him far out of his way, and
decided to keep to that for the time being, much as he hated and feared
it. Into the hotbed of life, therefore, he once more swung himself.

Once down, he continued to follow the windings of the valley for
several miles through sunlight and shadow. The path became increasingly
difficult. The cliffs closed