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positively and obviously that the air seemed sticky with her silence. It was hateful. The rest of them picked awkwardly at their food, and no one spoke much. Kialan did not say anything. It was obvious, even to Brid, that he was kicking himself for causing the situation—as well he might, Moril thought.
    When the food was finished and the cart packed again, they went on, still in the same heavy silence. At last Clennen could bear it no longer.
    â€œLenina,” he said, “you’re not regretting all that, are you? If you want that kind of life—if you’d rather have Ganner—just say the word and I’ll turn Olob toward Markind this moment.”
    Moril gasped. Brid’s mouth came open in her tear-stained face. They looked at Clennen and found he seemed quite serious. Then they looked at Lenina, expecting her to laugh. It was so silly. Lenina was as much part of their life as Olob or the cart. But Lenina did not laugh, nor did she say anything. Not only Brid and Moril, but Dagner, Kialan, and Clennen, too, stared at her in increasing anxiety.
    They came to a fork in the road. One branch led west, and the milestone said MARKIND 10. “Do I turn here?” asked Clennen.
    Lenina gave herself an impatient shake. “Oh no,” she said. “Clennen Mendakersson, you must be a very big fool indeed to think such a thing of me.”
    Clennen burst into a roll of relieved laughter. He shook the reins, and Olob trotted past the turning. “I must say,” he said, laughing still, “I can’t see how you could prefer Ganner to me. He couldn’t have made the songs I’ve made to you, not if his life depended on it.”
    â€œThen why did you think I did?” Lenina asked coldly. The trouble was not over yet.
    â€œWell,” Clennen said awkwardly. “Money and all that. And it’s what you were bred to, after all.”
    â€œI see,” said Lenina. There was silence again for quite half an hour, except for the plopping of Olob’s hooves and the light rumble of the cart. Kialan was unable to bear it. He got out and walked ahead, whistling the “Second March” rather defiantly. The others sat with their heads hanging, wishing Lenina would make peace. At last she said, “Oh, Clennen, do stop sitting there watching me like a dog! I’m not going to take wings and fly, am I? It’s lucky Olob has more sense than you, or we’d be in the ditch by now!”
    Then the trouble seemed to be over. Clennen was shortly laughing and talking again. And Lenina, if she was silent, was silent in her usual way, which everyone was used to. Brid and Moril got out of the cart, too, though they did not go near Kialan. Brid was still too angry with him.

4

    That night they camped in one of the many little valleys Markind abounded in. There were woods up its steep sides and a meadow in the bottom, containing a small peaceful lake full of newly hatched tadpoles. Dagner and Kialan went off to set their snares. Lenina put herbs on the fire against the midges, and the fragrant smoke streamed sideways and settled across the lake in bands. Brid and Moril, quite unworried by insects, waded into the shallows of the lake and tried enthusiastically to collect tadpoles in an old pickle jar. Moril had just lost most of them by accident when he looked up to find his father watching them.
    â€œYou want a bigger jar,” Clennen said. “And both of you want to remember what I said to Kialan about give-and-take.”
    â€œ He doesn’t remember it,” Brid said sulkily.
    â€œHe’s never had to learn it before,” said Clennen. “That’s his trouble. But it’s not yours, Brid. A fight takes two.”
    â€œDid you hear what he said?” Moril demanded.
    â€œI’m not deaf,” said Clennen. “He’s entitled to his opinion, like everyone else. And it wouldn’t hurt you to find some opinions of your own instead of