said there was no escape for the Gorean slave girl! But I had escaped! They would never recapture me! I could not be recaptured. I was too clever for them!
But what could I do, marked, tunicked, and collared, easily identifiable, female and slave, where could I go?
But the difficulty now was to manage the crossing.
I glanced to my left, and my attention was suddenly arrested, fearfully so, in a moment of terror. For an instant I could not move. Again, as I had long ago, on the first day of my escape from Shipcamp, I thought I saw a beast’s head in the shadows, looking at me, a large, broad, motionless head. I had then regarded it with greater care, and found that it was no more than a misconstrued pattern in the forest, an artifact of perception, a misinterpreted mixture of brush and branches, light and shadow. It was no more than the creature of my fear.
I laughed with relief.
But then it emerged the brush, crouching, no taller than my waist. My eyes grew wide; my hand was raised before my mouth. I could not move. It was to my left, and between me and the river. Strangely it did not seem attentive to me. Rather it was looking beyond me, though, when I dared turn, I could see nothing there.
Then the beast stood up fiercely, like a threatening, pulsating mountain, broad and braced, seething, its chest expanded, its paws spread, stood up to each tiny increment of its height, lifted its large, shaggy head angrily to the afternoon sky, and roared, a terrible roar, much like those we had heard when in the camp of Genserich, but then far off, and then closer. From such a sound, even were the monster caged, I think uneasy, awed men might back away and women flee. Then from my right I heard, unmistakably, from within the brush somewhere, an answering, rumbling growl. I had occasionally sensed I might have shared the forest with some unseen companion, like a shadow amongst the trees, but I had dismissed this apprehension as, Ahn after Ahn, even following investigations, I had detected nothing. Too, if there were any warrant for my fears, why had I not, in all this time, if it were a predator, been attacked? To bring down, and feed upon, a prey such as I might be, an unarmed kajira in the forest, would pose no difficulty to any likely predator. I lacked the stealth and speed of the tabuk, the horns of the forest bosk, the tusks of the tarsk boar. But clearly, now, there was not one, but two beasts, that which had emerged from the brush of the riverside, where, suddenly disturbed, it might have been drinking, and the other, still unseen, in the brush to my right.
I remained perfectly still. I think this was less wisdom than a consequence of the fact that I found myself unable to move. I suppose I was too frightened. But, too, more consciously, I did realize, even if I felt I could move, any swift movement on my part would be likely to trigger the pursuit response common in most predators. And turning one way, away from one beast, even had I the agility and speed of the small, graceful tabuk, might have brought myself within the compass of the other. It seemed to me that my body, denying me the capacity for motion, possibly expressed a rationality deeper than one rationality itself might have recognized.
I then saw the second beast. Its mottling would have rendered it almost invisible in the lights and shadows amongst the trees, its common background. There was tall grass and brush here, however, near the river. Seemingly it had availed itself here of this natural cover. However, that might be, the grass now parted like a curtain as it pressed it aside. Half of it was then clearly visible. Its belly was low, but its head was up. It snarled. The jaws were half open. I had seen such teeth before, fangs, pierced and strung on necklaces and armlets of Panther Girls. It was clearly vicious, and determined, this beast, but, too, it was smaller than the beast which had appeared from the side of the river.
The larger beast roared, again, but the smaller beast held its ground, crouched down, snarling.
I suddenly felt miserably sick and helpless.
I now had some sense of what was transpiring. The smaller beast had been following me, seemingly content, at least for