e Truce of New Grass,
she had challenged the feud of their peoples and had left her home, to
follow him. Now, if her father and his kinsmen overtook them, it would
be death for Var, and for Neena living shame. Which of the two was worse
was no longer a simple problem to Var, who had grown much older in the
last days.

[Illustration]

"Wait," he commanded. While she waited he spun a dream, attaching it to
the crags that loomed over the pass, and to the frozen ground underfoot.
It was black night, as it would really be when Groz and his henchmen
reached this place; lurid fire spewed from the Ryzga mountain, and
strange lights dipped above it; and for good measure there was an
avalanche in the dream, and hideous beasts rushed snapping and ravening
from the crevices of the rock.

"Oh!" cried Neena in involuntary alarm.

Var sighed, shaking his head. "It won't hold them for long, but it's the
best I can do now. Come on."

There was no path. Now they were descending the steeper face of the
sierra, and the way led over bottomless crevasses, sheer drops and sheer
ascents, sheets of traitorous glare ice. Place after place had to be
crossed on the air, and both grew weary with the effort such crossings
cost. They hoarded their strength, helping one another; one alone might
never have won through.

It was starry night already when they saw the light from the Watcher's
cave. The light shone watery and dim from beneath the hoary back of the
glacier, and as they came nearer they saw why: the cave entrance was
sealed by a sheet of ice, a frozen waterfall that fell motionless from
the rocks above. They heard no sound.

The two young people stared for a long minute, intrigued and fearful.
Both had heard of this place, and the ancient who lived there to keep
watch on the Ryzga mountain, as a part of the oldest legends of their
childhood; but neither had been here before.

But this was no time for shyness. Var eyed the ice-curtain closely to
make sure that it was real, not dream-stuff; then he struck it boldly
with his fist. It shattered and fell in a rain of splinters, sparkling
in the light that poured from within.

* * * * *

They felt the Watcher rouse, heard his footsteps, and finally saw him--a
shrunken old man, white-haired, with a lined beardless face. The sight
of him, more marred by age than anyone they had ever seen before, was
disappointing. They had expected something more--an ancie