The slopes were forested mostly with pine, though spruce, silver fir, and larch were seen. Alder was more prevalent near the river, often with willow and poplar, and rarely, dwarfed to little more than prostrate shrubs, pubescent oak and beech.

The left bank ascended from the river in a gradual grade. Jondalar and Thonolan climbed it until they reached the summit of a high bill. Looking out over the landscape, the two men saw rugged, wild, beautiful country, softened by the layer of white that filled hollows and smoothed outcrops. But the deception made traveling difficult.

They had not seen any of the several groups of people – such groups were thought of as Caves whether they lived in one or not – who referred to themselves as Losadunai. Jondalar was beginning to think they had missed them.

"Look!" Thonolan pointed.

Jondalar followed the direction of his outstretched arm and saw a wisp of smoke rising out of a wooded copse. They hurried ahead and soon came upon a small band of people clustered around a fire. The brothers strode into their midst raising both hands in front of them, palms up, in the understood greeting of openness and friendship.

"I am Thonolan of the Zelandonii. This is my brother, Jondalar. We are on our Journey. Does anyone here speak our tongue?"

A middle-aged man stepped forward, holding his hands out in the same manner. "I am Laduni of the Losadunai. In the name of Duna, the Great Earth Mother, you are welcome." He gripped both of Thonolan's hands with his and then greeted Jondalar in the same manner. "Come, sit by the fire. We will eat soon. Will you join us?"

"You are most generous," Jondalar replied formally.

"I traveled west on my Journey, stayed with a Cave of Zelandonii. It's been some years, but Zelandonii are always welcome." He led them to a large log near the fire. A lean-to had been constructed over it as protection from wind and weather. "Here, rest, take your pack off. You must have just come off the glacier."