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bit."
           "Let's go," MacAran ordered, without answering. This was a wild planet' but what could he do about it? He'd said he wanted to take risks, now he was having his chance.
           But they went on without incident, halting near midday to eat lunch from their packs and allow Camilla Del Rey to check her chronometer and come closer to the exact moment of noon. He drew closer to her as she was watching a small pole she had set up In the ground:
           "What's the story?"
           "The moment when the shadow is shortest is exact noon. So I note the length every two minutes and when it begins to get longer again, noon--the sun exactly on meridian---is is that two-minute period. This is close enough to true local noon for our measurements." She turned to him and asked in a low voice, "Are Heather and Judy really all right?"
 
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           "Oh, yes. Ewen's been checking them at every stop. We don't know how long it will take for the color to fade, but they're fine."
           "I nearly panicked," she murmured' "Judy Lovat makes me ashamed of myself. She was so calm."
           He noticed that imperceptibly the "Lieutenant Del Rey," "Dr. Lovat," "Dr. MacLeod" of the ship--where, after all, you saw only your few intimates except formally--were melting into Camilla, Judy, Mac. He approved. They might be here a long time. He said something like that, then abruptly asked, "Do you have any idea how long we will be here for repairs?"
           "None," she said' "but Captain Leicester says--six weeks if we can repair it."
           "If?"
           "Of course we can repair it," she said suddenly and sharply, and turned away. "We'll have to. We can't stay here."
           He wondered if this were fact or optimism, but did not ask. When he spoke next it was to make some banal remark about the quality of the rations they carried and to hope Judy would find some fresh food sources here.
           As the sun angled slowly down over the distant ranges, it grew cold again, and a sharp wind sprang up. Camilla looked apprehensively at the gathering clouds.
           "So much for astronomical observations", she murmured. "Does it rain every night on this damnable planet?"
           "Seems like it," MacAran said briefly. "Maybe it's a seasonal thing. But every night, so far, at this season at least hot at noon, cooling down fast, clouds in the after
    noon, rain at evening, snow toward midnight. And fog in the morning."
           She said, knitting her brows, "From what I've guessed from the time changes--not that five days can tell us much--it's spring; anyhow the days are getting longer, about three minutes each day. The planet seems to have somewhat more tilt than Earth, which would make for violent weather changes. But maybe after the snow clears and before the fog rises, the sky will clear a little … " and fell silent, thinking. MacAran did not disturb her, but as a thin fine drizzle began to fall, began to search for a camping site. They had better get under canvas before it turned into a downpour.
 
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           They were on a downslope; below them lay a broad and almost treeless valley, not in their direct path, but pleasant and green, stretching for two or three miles to the south. MacAran looked down at it, calculating the mile or two lost as against the problems of camping under the trees. Evidently these foothills were interspersed with such little valleys, and through this one ran something like a narrow stream of water--a river? A brook? Could it be used to replenish their water supplies? He raised the question, and MacLeod said, "Test the water, sure. But we'll be safer camping here in the middle of the forest."
           "Why?"
           For answer MacLeod pointed and MacAran made out something that looked like some herd animal. Details were hard to make out, but they were about the size of small ponies. "That's why," MacLeod said. "For