At fourteen years of age, Argus decided to follow his star. He said farewell to his parents, left his home and began the travels that would take him to places far beyond his dreams. During the early stages of his journey, Argus passed through lush farmlands and little villages, meeting a few people along the way.


For the first time on his journey, Argus found that he was never out of sight of buildings and, by inference, people. He was constantly passing cottages, guesthouses and farm-houses. Occasionally he went by a cluster of buildings that could be called a hamlet. He enjoyed the evidence of increasing life that was all around him; he gazed curiously at each new sight and approached each bend in the road with anticipation. There were new problems for him—mainly the difficulty of finding places to sleep—but there were compensations too, particularly the plentiful food supplies. Many of the fields he passed were given over to market gardens, and after dark these provided him with a varied diet.

He worked for a few days in an orchard, picking oranges for a married couple who spoke neither to each other nor to him. Their moroseness did not bother Argus, but the work did. It was hot and boring and dirty. As he flicked each orange towards him to be picked, the accumulated layer of dirt on top of the fruit flew into his face; by the end of each day he was spectacularly black. Still, the food was good, and he supplemented the meals by eating huge numbers of oranges, despite the obvious irritation this caused his employers. After four days they told him they would not be needing him any more. As there were still plenty of oranges to be picked, he could only assume that they were not satisfied with his work. Certainly he had been quite slow, but he swung his pack onto his back and set off again without great concern. He did, however, take a dozen oranges with him; they weighed a lot but the refreshment they gave was sweet and nourishing.