“Where are we?” asked Maskull. As he spoke, he got out, but Haunte remained standing a minute in the boat. “This is Sarclash—the second highest mountain in the land.” “Which is the highest, then?” “Adage. Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—very difficult in places. About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey. Now you know the lay of the land.” “Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?” “Near enough.” Haunte grinned. He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, walked straight into the cave. Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels. A few stone steps led to a doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast. Their host pushed his way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them. Maskull made no comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its fastenings to the ground. Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything. The place in which they found themselves was a large oblong cavern, with walls, floor, and ceiling of natural rock. There were two doorways: that by which they had entered, and another of smaller size directly opposite. The cave was cold and cheerless; a damp draft passed from door to door. Many skins of wild animals lay scattered on the ground. A number of lumps of sun-dried flesh were hanging on a string along the wall, and a few bulging liquor skins reposed in a corner. There were tusks, horns, and bones everywhere. Resting against the wall were two short hunting spears, having beautiful crystal heads. Haunte set down the two male stones on the ground, near the farther door; thire light illuminated the whole cave. He then walked over to the meat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously. “Are we invited to the feast?” asked Maskull. Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did not pause in his chewing. “Where’s a cup?” inquired Maskull, lifting one of the skins. Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it up, undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled the cup. Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He tossed off the draught, and then felt much better. The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, and began to throw off care.