To be sure, Tibara was the village where most caravan slaves were quartered. A lodge had been built there for that purpose and it was in frequent use. Naturally, it was maintained by the villagers. But that was even less excuse for shoddiness. This should be the neatest, best kept village in all Kira Barra. It wasn't. The frown deepened. This time, Tibara was going to be cleaned up, and he'd keep his attention on it. The village would stay clean if the villagers had to spend every second of their time on it when they weren't taking care of their herds, their boats, and their guest lodge. And there'd be no slacking in those other areas, either. He looked around the clearing. There were, he was forced to admit, no idlers about at the moment. The only people he could see were women and children. And the women were busily occupied. Again, he studied the scene. The men would be coming in from their fields and from the lake in another hour. He would examine a few other villages, then return his attention to Tibara. * * * * * Wearily, Retonga, headman of Tibara, pulled himself to a sitting position. He looked over to the other side of the room. Mir was already on her feet. She smiled at him uncertainly. "It's morning," she said. "Rest day, at last." "Yes." Retonga closed his eyes for an instant. It had been bad for her, too, he knew. He'd probably been pretty hard to live with these past few days. He sighed. "Rest day," he mused. "But it means nothing. There's still work. There's always work these days." He got to his feet. "I wish I were just a herd boy--in some other village." He went to the door and looked out. Someone had disturbed the pile of building stones. Children had been playing in the clearing the night before and the earth was scuffed up. Bits of wood and cloth lay scattered here and there. He looked at the houses. Folshan's roof was sagging a trifle, he noticed. And there were a couple of dolls lying outside his door. He shook his head and went out into the clearing. Old Tamiso was squatting by the well. Retonga walked over to him. "Your stone pile," he said. "A few of the stones are scattered." The old man looked over, then shrugged. "I just picked this one out," he explained. "When I get it laid, I'll have to get another. I'll straighten the pile when I finish here." Retonga smiled wearily. "And if the master sees your pile now?" Tamiso pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his back thoughtfully. "Yes," he said. "The master can give great pain, and it seems he is always watching these days." He walked over to the stones. For a moment, Retonga watched as he rearranged his pile, then he turned, tilting his head back. "Awaken," he shouted. "For the sun looks down and shall he find us asleep?" A head poked out of a door. "It's a rest day. We'll be at it soon enough, but what's the hurry?"