ou say that? There could be a rescue ship later--"

The other raised his eyes again to Travis. "When you slept under the
Redax how did you ride?"

"As a warrior--raiding ... living...."

"And I--I was one with _go'ndi_," Buck returned simply.

"But--"

"But the white man has assured us that such power--the power of a
chief--does not exist? Yes, the Pinda-lick-o-yi has told us so many
things. He is busy, busy with his tools, his machines, always busy. And
those who think in another fashion cannot be measured by his rules, so
they are foolish dreamers. Not all white men think so. There was Dr.
Ashe--he was beginning to understand a little.

"Perhaps I, too, am standing still, halfway up the stairway of the past.
But of this I am very sure: For us, there will be no return to our own
place. And the time will come when something new shall grow from the
seed of the past. Also it is necessary that you be one of the tenders of
that growth. So I urge you, take Tsoay, and the next time, Lupe. For the
young who may be swayed this way and that by words--as the wind shakes a
small tree--must be given firm roots."

In Travis education warred with instinct, just as the picture Redax had
planted in his mind had warred with his awaking to this alien landscape.
Yet now he believed he must be guided by what he felt. And he knew that
no man of his race would claim _go'ndi_, the power of spirit known only
to a great chief, unless he had actually felt it swell within him. It
might have been fostered by hallucination in the past, but the aura of
it carried into the here and now. And Travis had no doubts that Buck
believed implicitly in what he said, and that belief carried credulity
to others.

"This is wisdom, _Nantan_--"

Buck shook his head. "I am no _nantan_, no chief. But of some things I
am sure. You also be sure of what lies within you, younger brother!"

On the third day, ranging eastward along the base of the mountain range,
Travis found what he believed would be an acceptable camp site. There
was a canyon with a good spring of water cut round by well-marked game
trails. A series of ledges brought him up to a small plateau where scrub
wood could be used to build the wickiups. Water and food lay within
reach, and the ledge approach was easy to defend. Even Deklay and his
fellow malcontents were forced to concede the value of the site.

His duty to the clan accomplished, Travis returned to his own concern,
one which had ha