“Here is how we thought, what we did. The mush from tagaso, it looks like the mush we make from other seeds. A seed is a seed—isn’t that right? This time we have cut the tops off the grass that women make mush from. Then winnowed the grain. We soaked it and covered it, used the right moss, kept it in the sun. This morning when I put my ear to the pot I could hear no more happy bubbling. That pot has rested in the shade all day, Morgil has poured water over it to cool it. Now we try it!”

Kerrick had not been here before, had not realized the great effort that the two hunters had put into their new enthusiasm. They had raised their tent in an open vale away from the other sammads, where they could have sun and shade as needed for their bubbling labors. Large pots sat in the sun, cooled in the shade, lay broken and discarded where pot or mixture had brought tragedy. Morgil lay on his side, his arms about a pot, his head pressed against it.

“Not a sound,” he cried cheerfully, then tipped some more water over the still-damp clay. “Shall we try it now?”

“Kerrick is here to help.”

“He is a brave hunter—he shall try it first.”

“Not that brave,” Kerrick said, stepping back. “You have captured the porro, you shall drink it first.”

Morgil cut the braided reeds that held the leaf covers in place: Hanath tore the leaves off and cast them aside. He bent over the open mouth of the pot and sniffed, turned, smiled.

“It smells the best so far.”

“It smelled good last time,” Morgil said with gloomy practicality. “We were sick for two days.”

At this reminder they took up the clay cups and dipped them hesitantly into the pot. Morgil had depressed himself thoroughly and did not drink, but watched while Hanath sniffed, sipped, swallowed. He grimaced in thought—then smiled broadly.

“The best we have ever made! As good as the mandukto make, better even.” He downed the rest of the cup, sighed and belched happily. Morgil gurgled his down enthusiastically. Kerrick dipped and tasted hesitantly.

“As good as the Sasku make,” he agreed. “Better than theirs—because this porro is here and not in that valley so far away.”

The only answer they made was rapid swallowing.