Henry stopped and squatted in the underbrush, well hidden from the path but close enough to see the coming group. Within a minute they became visible. There were twenty-five to thirty boys, girls and youths walking slowly in ragged groups, talking and laughing. The youngest were ahead, a group just entering their teens, dressed like the rest in jackets and shorts, with sandals of plast on their feet. The dark, synthetic cloth made them a uniformed body. Henry's nose wrinkled in distaste. Again his hideaway would be invaded and he would have to move on. But where to?
They were opposite him now, a bare twenty feet away. Most of them looked as alike as brothers and sisters, logically enough; there was not one who wasn't a cousin in some degree to the others. Plump, round-faced and dull-eyed, they lived from cradle to grave according to custom. It was the custom, when they were old enough to feel the urge, to join a group like this. Together they tramped the valley from spring to fall, gathering fruit and nuts as they came in season. When a couple felt like settling down they awaited a vacant Mastership—a plot of orchard and the house that went with it—and moved in. They took over the responsibilities of the place and bred or adopted the three children necessary to hold it. They remained there until they became Elders. Then they moved into Town, where they worked in the factories, idled and gossiped until death overtook them.
They were ignorant, superstitious, living out their dull routine as generations before them had. Only a few questioned it. Almost none made any active challenge.
The youngsters sighted the tavern and made for it at a dead run, wanting to claim favorable bunks before the others arrived.
Henry was impatient. Ants were crawling over his foot, but it would never do for him to be seen, especially in the woods. One didn't go into them. They were inhabited by goblins, ghosts and fearsome animals.
Finally they were past. He straightened, started to step into the path, then squatted again quickly. Coming alone, behind the others, was the girl.
Her slimness and pale hair made her stand out from the rest. His thoughts had been upon her since that day when his group passed the house of her father, an avocado Master, down in the lower valley. She had called to them to wait, had run inside to come back with her two pouches, one for her personal belongings, the other for food. Living on a fruit diet as they did, they ate most of their awakened hours.
"I'm Theta!" she called out happily as she joined them. "Mama says I'm old enough to go with you." She recognized a cousin and ran over to join her, her hair a spot of brightness among the dark. He wanted her from that moment, but she was far too young. He would have to wait.
Coming towards Theta from the opposite direction was the slap of flat feet.
In a moment Henry recognized Ole. He was considerably older than the others; his only object in life was enjoying all the young girls who joined the group. He was a bulky dullard and a bully, his eyes small and mean.
It was evident that he was looking for the girl. A pleased expression spread over his face when he saw her. She stopped abruptly, looking about for a way to flee, but the path was enclosed by woods and Ole was on her.
"Leave me alone!" she cried in anger as his hand closed about her wrist. Henry could see disgust for him in her eyes. Why didn't she let him have what he wanted and be done with him? That was the way most of the girls responded.
"Won't have anything to do with me, eh?" gloated Ole. "Think you are too good for us! I been watching you, asking about you. None of the boys have had you ... but you won't get by me!"
Henry felt a surge of sympathy for her, fed by his dislike for the other. He slipped into the path. He was almost up to them before he was seen. Ole swung about, still holding the girl. Henry stopped six feet off.
"Why don't you let her alone if she doesn't want you?" he asked with deceiving mildness, apparently relaxed.
There was startled fright in Ole's eyes. Henry had appeared so suddenly, from nowhere. Worse, he was proscribed. He was accused of learning witchery.
Henry was taller than Ole, but thin and almost weak looking. This would be something to boast about: capturing the witch singlehanded, bringing him in for punishment!
"Make me let her alone, then!" he challenged.
It was usual to boast and strut before fighting. Henry took the advantage of immediate attack. He sprang at the other, catching him before he unhanded the girl, with a right to the jaw, a left to the belly.
Theta ran about fifty feet down the path, then turned to watch. Ole, head down, was closing in to grip his opponent, but Henry stepped to one side, coming up with a blow to Ole's right eye. Ole raised his guard and Henry sank both fists into the other's stomach.
Ole doubled up.
There was no fight in him. He plunged past Henry, down the path towards the tavern. Henry faced the girl. She came towards him without hesitation.
"Thank you," she said. "I shouldn't have left the others. I didn't think he had noticed."
She walked slowly towards the tavern, Henry beside her. The past year had made her t............