the branches. She saw the orange flames through the masses of branches and twigs. It was as if she was inside the body of a huge spider, watching through its tangle of legs.

Now the people formed a complete circle and danced, or shuffled, until the central fire died to a red glow. Then the boys and the girls separated into two smaller groups and danced on each side of the dying fire. The oldest people formed a half circle inside the main one. This was how the pattern had always been, from time past remembering. They sang songs they did not understand, and moved in the ways their parents had taught them, learning the steps they would teach to their own children one day. The cycle preserved.

Stephanie shivered in the cold air. She climbed higher, to gain a better view, and saw the first white edge of the moon as it began to rise. Below her, the dots of red made picture formed by flames, and the ceremony twisted into a strange pattern. It was exactly the shape of the smiling face on the petrol station. It was the symbol of the happy motorist, printed on flags and signs in every country of the world. And none of the people in the ceremony knew!

As the absurdity sank in, Stephanie began to laugh. She laughed so loudly, and so sharply that she lost her hold of the branch and fell through the tree to the ground. The people heard her laughing and several heads turned her way to listen. Some people rushed to the soft grass under the tree to lift the fallen girl to her feet. They asked her how she was. They tested her arms and legs, but found only bruises.

"I'm alright!" said Stephanie over and over, giggling quietly.

The leader of the Dance came to her.

"There must not be a death during the Dance!" he growled, "What do you think you were doing, anyway? You should have been with us, dancing around the fire!"

"I wanted a better view!" said Stephanie, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall, it was just that . . .!"

"You came with Martin Knibbs, didn't you? He's your uncle. I think he ought to take you home, right now!"

Uncle Knibbs was there, beside Stephanie. His torch had burned out. Only the dark shape of his form was visible in the night. He reminded Stephanie of a caveman, with his loose, untidy hair and the club. He put an arm round her shoulders and escorted her to his car. It was a long, silent drive home, but Stephanie didn't mind.

She smiled all the way.