THE VALLEY OF THE MASTERS

By CHARLES MINOR BLACKFORD

His sin was curiosity—his crime was witchcraft—but Henry's real offense against his strange world was that it was dying—and he wanted it to live!

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Henry stopped and squatted in the underbrush, well hidden from the path but close enough to see the coming group. Within a minute they became visible. There were twenty-five to thirty boys, girls and youths walking slowly in ragged groups, talking and laughing. The youngest were ahead, a group just entering their teens, dressed like the rest in jackets and shorts, with sandals of plast on their feet. The dark, synthetic cloth made them a uniformed body.

Henry's nose wrinkled in distaste. Again his hideaway would be invaded and he would have to move on. But where to?

They were opposite him now, a bare twenty feet away. Most of them looked as alike as brothers and sisters, logically enough; there was not one who wasn't a cousin in some degree to the others. Plump, round-faced and dull-eyed, they lived from cradle to grave according to custom. It was the custom, when they were old enough to feel the urge, to join a group like this. Together they tramped the valley from spring to fall, gathering fruit and nuts as they came in season. When a couple felt like settling down they awaited a vacant Mastership—a plot of orchard and the house that went with it—and moved in. They took over the responsibilities of the place and bred or adopted the three children necessary to hold it. They remained there until they became Elders. Then they moved into Town, where they worked in the factories, idled and gossiped until death overtook them.

They were ignorant, superstitious, living out their dull routine as generations before them had. Only a few questioned it. Almost none made any active challenge.

The youngsters sighted the tavern and made for it at a dead run, wanting to claim favorable bunks before the others arrived.

Henry was impatient. Ants were crawling over his foot, but it would never do for him to be seen, especially in the woods. One didn't go into them. They were inhabited by goblins, ghosts and fearsome animals.

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