And now the hills were once more in sight--those great blue hills where he wished to be, looking nearer and larger than before, but they still looked blue like great banks of cloud and were a long distance away.

But he was determined to get to them, to climb up their steep sides, and by and by when he found the stream bent away to the south, he left it so as to go on straight as he could to the hills.

Away from the water-side the ground was higher, and very flat and covered with dry yellow grass.

Over this yellow plain he walked for hours, resting at times, but finding no water and no sweet roots to quench his thirst, until he was too tired to walk any further, and so he sat down on the dry grass under that wide blue sky.

There was not a cloud on it--nothing but the great globe of the sun above him; and there was no wind and no motion in the yellow grass blades, and no sight or sound of any living creature.
Martin lying on his back gazed up at the blue sky, keeping his eyes from the sun, which was too bright for them, and after a time he did see something moving--a small black spot no bigger than a fly moving in a circle.