"Gee, what _are_ you going to do about them, Dad?"
"I've been trying to decide. I don't know what I should do that will be
best for them." I looked at my watch. "Let's go back out and talk to
the chief."
His eyes lighted and he clapped me on the shoulder, man to man. We ran
out and got into the jeep and drove back up to the valley. The late
afternoon Sun glared across the landscape.
We didn't say much as we wound up the valley between the darkening
trees. I was filled more and more with the unease that had seized me
as I watched the three volplas leave my terrace and climb smoothly and
purposefully into the east.
We got out at the chief's camp and there were no volplas around. The
fire had burned down to a smolder. I called in the volpla language, but
there was no answer.
We went from camp to camp and found dead fires. We climbed to their
tree houses and found them empty. I was sick and scared. I called
endlessly till I was hoarse.
At last, in the darkness, my son put a hand on my arm. "What are you
going to do, Dad?"
Standing there in those terribly silent woods, I trembled. "I'll have
to call the police and the newspapers and warn everybody."
"Where do you suppose they've gone?"
I looked to the east where the stars, rising out of the great pass in
the mountains, glimmered like a deep bowl of fireflies.
"The last three I saw were headed that way."
* * * * *
We had been gone from the house for hours. When we stepped out onto the
lighted terrace, I saw the shadow of a helicopter down on the strip.
Then I saw Guy sitting near me in a chair. He was holding his head in
his hands.
Em was saying to my wife, "He was beside himself. There wasn't a
thing he could do. I had to get him away from there and I thought you
wouldn't mind if we flew over here and stayed with you till they've
decided what to do."