Brenner turned about and fled back to the hut. He rummaged through Rodriguez’ things and, in a moment, from its leather case, drew forth the requested object.
“You must show us where!” Rodriguez was saying to a Pon when Brenner, gasping, returned to the gate.
“No! No! No!” screamed the Pon.
Rodriguez seized it by the back of the neck, and held it literally in the air.
“Shut! Shut!” screamed another Pon.
Another Pon squeezed through. It was the git keeper.
“Come along!” said Rodriguez to Brenner. He then wedged through the gate and, carrying the terrified, struggling Pon, went into the clearing. Save for the footprints it seemed quiet.
“You will show us where!” Rodriguez said to the Pon.
“Let go! Let go!” screamed the Pon, squirming.
“Where, you little bastard?” asked Rodriguez.
“Let go!” it screeched.
“You show,” snarled Rodriguez. “Then I let go.”
“There! There!” said the Pon, pointing.
“Come along,” said Rodriguez, furiously, to Brenner, who carried the weapon.
“There!” screamed the Pon, now thrust ahead of Rodriguez, by the collar of its robes.
They were at the edge of the fields, near the forest.
“The trail is clear,” said Rodriguez. He released the Pon, who fled back, toward the palisade.
“Give me the weapon,” said Rodriguez.
Brenner handed it to him.
“Stay behind me,” said Rodriguez. “You will be my extra eyes. In particular keep watch to the rear.”
“Is that necessary?” asked Brenner.
“We do not know what this is, or its intelligence,” said Rodriguez.
The brush, torn apart, the trampled leaves, were a trail that even Brenner might have followed. Whatever it was might have approached with circumspection, but it had not concerned itself to conceal its withdrawal.
“You can see where it went,” said Brenner.
“Yes,” said Rodriguez.
“It does not deign to conceal its trail,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“It did not expect to be followed,” said Brenner.
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“It does not fear pursuit?”
“No,” said Rodriguez.
“It is not afraid?”
“Perhaps you can see why,” said Rodriguez.
“Why?” asked Brenner.
“Nothing was dragged here,” said Rodriguez. “Thus the thing is of considerable size.”
“There is blood on the leaves,” said Brenner.
“We will teach it fear,” said Rodriguez.
He armed the rifle.
“You are going to kill it?”
“We must attempt to do so,” said Rodriguez. “A prey range, once extended, is likely to remain extended.”
Brenner nodded.
“It may even grow fond of a new taste,” said Rodriguez.
“I understand,” said Brenner, shuddering.
“Are you ready?” asked Rodriguez.
“How far away is it likely to be?” asked Brenner.
“It is probably extremely close,” said Rodriguez, “perhaps within yards.”
“I’m ready,” said Brenner.
They had not made their way far into the forest when Rodriguez stopped, and held out his hand.
Brenner stopped, too, scarcely daring to breathe.
Rodriguez put his left arm carefully into the weapon sling. Until then he had carried the rifle at the ready. In this fashion it might be brought instantly into play, in any direction, or attitude. Now, however, he had a fair shot. He wanted the extra steadiness of the sling. It would not do to miss.
The beast was crouched down. It had its head low. One could not see its jaws.
A bird, overhead, took flight.
The beast, at the sound of the rush of wings, instantly lifted its head.
Rodriguez and Brenner did not move.
The beast, a white, starlike blaze on its forehead, looked at them.
“It sees us,” whispered Brenner.
“No,” whispered Rodriguez.
The ears of the beast were erected, facing them.
Rodriguez’ finger began to press gently, ever so gently, on the trigger.
Suddenly the beast leaped up and Rodriguez, with a curse, fired. A passage of light, marking the trail of the charge, burned through the air. A tree, in a ball of fire, seemed to explode and its top, the trunk smoking and severed, crashed down.
“It’s gone!” said Rodriguez, in fury.
He jammed another charge into the breech.
In moments Rodriguez and Brenner had reached the spot where they had seen the animal.
Rodriguez plunged into the forest after it.
Brenner lingered behind.
“I’ve lost it,” said Rodriguez, coming back.
“He was finished anyway,” said Brenner, wearily.
Rodriguez looked down at the leaves.
“We had best take what is left here back to the village,” said Rodriguez.
“I will carry him,” said Brenner.
“I should not have missed,” said Rodriguez.
“You had no chance,” said Brenner. “The beast leaped up.”
“At one time, long ago,” said Rodriguez, “I would not have missed.”
Brenner gathered the small form, torn apart, half eaten, into his arms.
“It may come back,” said Rodriguez.
“You frightened it,” said Brenner. “It may never come back.”
“It will come back,” said Rodriguez.
Brenner’s shirt and chest were drenched with blood.
“That is not the worst, of course,” said Rodriguez, gloomily.