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"Oh, old Jack's morals are alright now, I guess," replied the prime mover,"and, anyway, we can work that out later when we all meet. You can'tmistake old Jock's place. Rather untidy. Things on the veranda. I'd bevery much obHged." And hung up before Ellie could protest as to her meaning.Slacks, she thought. I'll wear slacks, though perhaps I should have askedif anyone would mind. But I don't want to go up my first mountain in hatand gloves.Actually, she wished to stand out a little in the crowd. She felt no realneed yet to dig herself into eternity with ancestors. But she persuaded herfriend, Teresa, to wear slacks, too.Along the road from the hostel, whitefaced bullocks grazed the strips, theircalm, objective gazes fixed totally on food, their ripe silken rumps presentedindifferently to Elbe's hesitation over them and other matters."Did she say left or right? I think she only said we couldn't miss it. Doyou think I was selfish to say I couldn't take him up the mountain? I meanthe roads are probably windey. Do you think I'll be alright?"Teresa replied in the manner of those that are having a free ride, whilethinking that, after all, there are no free rides. You took one, regardless ofwhether someone had the characteristics of a manic depressive or a suicidalparanoiac because you wanted to go somewhere without paying money for it.She said re-assuringly."You'll be alright. I wouldn't go with you if you weren't." And let aminute elapse before she added. "It's funny how you worry. RememberAlexander, how he drove? He was so mild usually and yet such a hellhoundwhen he took the wheel! Yet you drove with him, too. Remember how heused to^ go shooting out of side roads, and you'd only say, 'Oh, Alex, youshouldn't. It's wrong?'""Yes, well, we didn't see the danger till it was past, I suppose. Now Ianticipate it." And Teresa could see her mind running up the mountain andlooking over steep drops and dragging round hairpin bends."Look, stop! I think that's it.""It must be." She still had to almost count the actions of stopping, one,two, three, four.Teresa felt it was her duty to be obliging."Shall I go up and see?" She was already doing it.The small brown cottage confronted the road squarely from a distance ofsixty feet. On both sides and the back it was framed by a square-set deadorchard, the upper of whose branches were green with" fungus and whoseb-unks were stripped of bark. A half-dozen angular goats explained the conditiondisconsolately amongst the thousands and thousands of bottles and cansand squashed cardboard cartons. A tank with the marks of leaking waterpainted rustily on one side sagged weakly over broken ribs on the otherThe arthritic gate was further tormented by a tight and knotted chain.Teresa jiggled at it and gave herself up to getting through the barbwire fenceKeeping on eye on the goats without having any idea of what to do if an"preached, she walked up the path which led to the veranda Her eves ffSlowed it, straight through the straight passage of the house, straight up anothe^path to a small buildmg with an open door, a seat and a rusty can nerohSagainst the sharply rising hill. The morning sun shone down the passagewayWESTERLY, No. 1 of 1967