"Looking for a friend?" Solainquired acidly. He did not attempt to explain what was bothering him, since hewas not sure himself.

      In the afternoon they found it: abeautiful open valley, flat where a river had once flooded, and with a line oftrees where the river remained. Upstream the valley narrowed into a cleft and waterfall,easy to guard, while downstream the river spread into a reedy swamp thatneither foot nor boat could traverse handily. There were green passes throughthe rounded mountains on either side.

      "A hundred men and their familiescould camp here!" Sol exclaimed. "Two, three hundred!" He hadbrightened considerably since discovering that the nemesis of the badlands hadno teeth.

      "It looks good," Sos admitted."Provided there is no danger we don't know about." And was there?

      "No game," Sol said seriously."But there are fish and birds, and we can send out foraging parties. Ihave seen fruit trees, too." He had really taken this project to heart,Sos saw, and was alert for everything affecting its success. Yet there wasdanger in becoming prematurely positive, too.

      "Fish and fruit!" Sola muttered,making a face, but she seemed glad that at least they would not be going deeperinto the danger zone. Sos was glad, too; he felt the aura of the badlands, andknew that its mystery was more than what could be measured in Roentgens.

      Stupid squawked again as the great whiteshapes of night appeared. There were several in sight on the plain, their colormaking them appear much larger than they were, and the bird flapped happilyafter them. Apparently the tremendous moths were its only diet-his diet, Sosthought, assigning a suitable sex-and he consumed them indefatigably. DidStupid store them up in his crop for lean nights?

      "Awful sound," Sola remarked,and he realized that she meant Stupid's harsh cry. Sos found no feasibleretort. This woman both fascinated and infuriated him-but her opinion hardlymade a difference to the bird.