Again a light showed ahead of them. It was harder to perceive, since the brilliance from behind was still great, but there was no doubt that a fire of some sort was on one of the hilltops ahead of them.
“Are you going to sneak up on this one the way you did on the other?” queried John.
Nancy glanced at the now dangerously clear raindrops and did not condescend to answer. Her companion had expected none, and after a moment asked a more sensible question.
“What about this torch? If we can see that fire, anyone near it can see us. Do you want to put it out?”
Nancy glanced upward—or rather, shifted her attention in that direction by a subtle alteration in the positions of her visual spines, which acted rather like a radio interferometer system, except that they were sensitive to much shorter wavelengths. “We’d better,” she said. “There’s plenty of light to dodge the drops.”
John shrugged mentally and tossed the glowing piece of wood under a settling raindrop. The two slipped up toward the distant light.
It was an ordinary fire this time, they could see as they approached. Unfortunately, there was no one visible near it, and the vegetation was not dense enough to hide anyone of ordinary size unless he were deliberately seeking to use it for the purpose. This suggested possible trouble, and the two explorers circled the hill on which the blaze stood with the most extreme caution, looking for traces of whoever had been there in the past few hours. Not having the tracking skill of the cave dwellers, they found no signs of people. After two full circuits and some low-voiced discussion, they were forced to conclude that either whoever made the fire was still on the hill but remarkably well hidden, or else the fire itself had been started by something a trifle unusual. The latter hypothesis would probably not have occurred to them had it not been for their recent experience with the volcano. There seemed no way, however, to decide between the possibilities by reason alone. Closer investigation was in order and, with a constant expectation of hearing the sharp voice of Swift echoing about them, they set to it. Very carefully, examining every bush, they went up the slope.
The climb bore some resemblance to a scientific experiment, in that its completion eliminated both of the hypotheses and left them completely without ideas for a moment. It was only for a moment however; as the two loomed up beside the small fire, which had quite obviously been laid by intelligent hands, a shout sounded from the next hilltop, three hundred yards away.
“John! Nancy! Where did you come from?” The startled investigators recognized simultaneously the voice of Oliver and the fact that they had been a little hasty in eliminating possibilities; obviously they had missed a trail, since neither Oliver nor Dorothy could fly. Neither said anything about it aloud; each decided in private that the different vegetation of the area was responsible.
When Oliver and his companion came back to the fire from the separate hilltops to which they had taken on sighting John’s torch, it quickly transpired that they, too, had seen the light of the volcano and had come to investigate it. Their adventures had been very similar to those of John and Nancy, except that neither of them had tried hiding in raindrops. Oliver and Dorothy had been an hour or so ahead of the others, and had found a good supply of fuel, so they were well set for the night.
“I’ll bet Jim and Jane will be with us before the night’s over,” remarked Nancy when both parties had completed thek exchange of information. “Their search areas were even closer to this place than yours, Oliver, and unless they went ’way off course coming across country they must have seen the big light, too.”
“Maybe they thought it was better to stick to their assigned job,” remarked John.
“Isn’t investigating bright lights part of the job?” retorted his partner. “As for me, if they’re not here in an hour or two I’m going to start worrying about them. This fire-hill couldn’t possibly be missed or ignored, and you know it.”
No one had a suitable answer for this, but no one was really impressed by the reasoning, since they had all spent some time in discussion before coming to check the mountain. At any rate, the hours passed without the predicted appearance. If Nancy was worrying, she failed to show it; certainly none of the others were. It was a very quiet night, and there was nothing to worry about. The hours were passing, but that was normal; the light was getting brighter, but there was the peculiar hill to account for that; the rain was decreasing, but the hill might account for that, too. The fire was using up its fuel with unusual speed, but there was plenty of fuel. Doubtless the wind was responsible—none of them had ever experienced such a wind, and an air current one could actually feel would no doubt do many queer things. The four explorers stood by their fire and dozed, while the wind grew fiercer.
IX. DEDUCTION; EDUCATION; EXPERIMENTATION
“Daddy! Dr. Raeker! ’Mina’s right; it’s Nick!” Easy’s voice was close to hysteria. The men glanced at each other, worried frowns on their faces. Rich gestured that Raeker should do the answering, but his expression pleaded eloquently for care. Raeker nodded, and closed his own microphone switch.
“Are you sure it’s actually Nick, Easy?” he asked in as matter-of-fact a voice as he could manage. “He’s supposed to have stayed at the camp, you know. There are six others actually searching, supposedly in pairs; do you see two of them, there?”
“No,” replied Easy in a much calmer voice. Her father sank back in his chair with a thankful expression on his face. “There was only one, and I saw him just for a second. Wait—there he is again.” Raeker wished he could see the girl’s face, but she was shouting her messages from one of the observing chambers and was well out of pickup range of the vision transmitter. “I can still see only one of them, and he’s mostly hidden in the bushes—just his head and shoulders, if you can call them that, sticking up. He’s coming closer now. He must see the ’scaphe, though I can’t tell where he’s looking, or what he’s looking with. I’m not sure whether he’s the same size, but he certainly is the same shape. I don’t see how you’d ever tell them apart.”
“It isn’t easy,” replied Raeker. “After a few years, you find there are differences in their scale and spine arrangements something like the differences in human faces. Maybe you can tell me what this one is wearing and carrying; that should be a lot easier to describe.”
“All right. He has a sort of haversack slung over what would be his right hip if he had any hips; it’s held by a strap running up around the other side of his body, over the arms on the left. The front of the sack has a knife hanging from it, and I think there’s another on a sort of complex strap arrangement on the other side, but he’s been working toward us at an angle and we haven’t had a good look at that side. He’s carrying four spears that look just like the ones Nick and his people had, and the more I see of him the more he looks like them.”
“Does he have an axe, or anything looking like one?” asked Raeker.
“If he has, it’s hanging from his straps at the left rear, where we can’t see it.”
“Then I’m afraid you’re going to have to make good on your claim that you can get on all right with Swift’s people. Mine carry only two spears, and the search teams took their axes with them. If that were one of our searchers he’d have an axe in one of his left hands, almost certainly. That means we’ll have to change our plans a bit; we were hoping our folks would find you first. That’s just luck; I suppose this is some hunter of Swift’s. They’d hardly have had time to get an organized search going, even if he decided to run one on his own.”
“Isn’t it going to be a long time before any of your search teams get back to the camp?” asked Easy after some seconds of thought.