“How secretive you are, Maskull!” said Oceaxe quietly, without turning her head.

“What secrets—­what do you mean?”

“Oh, I know perfectly well what’s passing inside you.  Now I think it wouldn’t be amiss to ask you—­is friendship still enough?”

“Oh, don’t ask me anything,” growled Maskull.  “I’ve far too many problems in my head already.  I only wish I could answer some of them.”

He stared stonily at the landscape.  The beast was winging its way toward a distant mountain, of singular shape.  It was an enormous natural quadrilateral pyramid, rising in great terraces and terminating in a broad, flat top, on which what looked like green snow still lingered.

“What mountain is that?” he asked.

“Disscourn.  The highest point in Ifdawn.”

“Are we going there?”

“Why should we go there?  But if you were going on farther, it might be worth your while to pay a visit to the top.  It commands the whole land as far as the Sinking Sea and Swaylone’s Island—­and beyond.  You can also see Alppain from it.”

“That’s a sight I mean to see before I have finished.”

“Do you, Maskull?” She turned around and put her hand on his wrist.  “Stay with me, and one day we’ll go to Disscourn together.”

He grunted unintelligibly.

There were no signs of human existence in the country under their feet.  While Maskull was still grimly regarding it, a large tract of forest not far ahead, bearing many trees and rocks, suddenly subsided with an awful roar and crashed down into an invisible gulf.  What was solid land one minute became a clean-cut chasm the next.  He jumped violently up with the shock.  “This is frightful.”

Oceaxe remained unmoved.

“Why, life here must be absolutely impossible,” he went on, when he had somewhat recovered himself.  “A man would need nerves of steel....  Is there no means at all of foreseeing a catastrophe like this?”

“Oh, I suppose we wouldn’t be alive if there weren’t,” replied Oceaxe, with composure.  “We are more or less clever at it—­but that doesn’t prevent our often getting caught.”

“You had better teach me the signs.”

“We’ll have many things to go over together.  And among them, I expect, will be whether we are to stay in the land at all....  But first let us get home.”

“How far is it now?”

“It is right in front of you,” said Oceaxe, pointing with her forefinger.  “You can see it.”

He followed the direction of the finger and, after a few questions, made out the spot she was indicating.  It was a broad peninsula, about two miles distant.  Three of its sides rose sheer out of a lake of air, the bottom of which was invisible; its fourth was a bottleneck, joining it to the mainland.  It was overgrown with bright vegetation, distinct in the brilliant atmosphere.  A single tall tree, shooting up in the middle of the peninsula, dwarfed everything else; it was wide and shady with sea-green leaves.