He heard the cries of children from a nearby field. Soon they were racing along beside him, screaming questions. He tried to answer them, but the noises of the machine destroyed his words.

As he turned onto the only street through the village, slowing even more, a horse bolted and ran off between two houses, dragging a small cart. He saw people running and heard doors slamming. Dogs snarled, barked and backed away. The children kept pace.

Reaching the town's center, he braked to a complete halt and looked about.

"Can we ride on it?" the children shouted.

"Maybe later," he replied, turning to check that everything was still in good order.

Doors began to open. People emerged from homes and stables to stand staring at him. Their expressions were not at all what he had imagined they would be. Some were blank-faced, many seemed fearful, a few looked angry.

"What is it?" a man shouted from across the way.

"A steam wagon," he yelled back. "It--"

"Get it out of here!" someone else called. "We'll all be cursed!"

"It's not bad magic--" he began.

"Get it out!"

"Out with it!"

"Bringing that damned thing into town ..."

A clod of earth struck the side of the boiler.

"You don't understand!"

"Out! Out! Out!"

Stones began to fly. A number of men began moving toward him. He singled out the one he knew best.

"Jed!" he shouted. "It's not bad magic! It's just like boiling water to make tea!"

Jed did not reply, but reached out with the others to seize hold of the wagon's quivering side.

"Well boil you, you bastard!" one of the others shouted, and they began to rock the vehicle.

"Stop! Stop! You'll damage it!" Mark cried.

Top-heavy, it quickly responded to their pressures with a swaying motion. When he realized that it was beginning to tip, it was too late to jump.