A stocky young man with knotted shoulder-muscles and sun-bleached hair was holding Jen in his arms. That would be Hugh. He, and the others, were shouting excitedly, asking and answering questions. Then, one by one, they caught sight of Trevor. And gradually a silence grew and spread. "All right," said Saul harshly, looking at Trevor. "Let's get this settled." "You settle it," said Trevor. "I'm tired." He glared at Saul and the unfriendly staring crowd, and they seemed to rock in his vision. "I'm an Earthman. I didn't want to come into your damned valley, and I've been here a night and a day and haven't slept. I'm going to sleep." Saul started to speak again but Jen's man, Hugh, came up and stood in front of him. "He saved Jen's life," Hugh said. "Let him sleep." He led Trevor away to a place at the side where there were heaps of dried vines and mountain creepers, prickly and full of dust but softer than the cave floor. Trevor managed a few vague words of thanks and was asleep before they were out of his mouth. Hours, weeks, or perhaps it was only minutes later, a rough persistent shaking brought him to again. Faces bent over him. He saw them through a haze, and the questions they asked penetrated to him slowly, and without much meaning. "Why did you want the sun-stone?" "Why wouldn't I want it? I could take it back to Earth and sell it for a fortune." "What do they do with sun-stones on Earth?" "Build gadgets, super-electronic, to study things. Wave-lengths too short for anything else to pick up. Thought-waves, even. What do you care?" "Do they wear sun-stones in their foreheads, on Earth?" "No...." His voice trailed off, and the voices, or the dream of voices, left him. It was still daylight when he woke, this time normally. He sat up, feeling stiff and sore but otherwise rested. Jen came to him, smiling, and thrust a chunk of what he recognized as some species of rock-lizard into his hands. He gnawed at it wolfishly while she talked, having discovered that this was not the same day, but the next one, and quite late. "They have decided," she said, "to let you live." "I imagine you had a lot to do with that. Thanks." She shrugged her bare shoulders, with the raw wounds on them where the hawk-lizards had clawed her. She had that exhausted, let-down look that comes after tremendous stress, and her eyes, even while she spoke to Trevor, followed Hugh as he worked at some task around the cave. "I couldn't have done anything if they hadn't believed your story," she told him. "They questioned you when you were too far gone to lie." He had a very dim memory of that. "They didn't understand your answers but they knew they were true ones. Also they examined your clothes. No cloth like that is woven in the valley. And the things that hold them together--" he knew she meant the zippers "--are unknown to us. So you must have come from beyond the mountains. They want to know exactly how, and if you could get back the same way."