As always there was the small thrust of fear when he took the hèsotsan from its nest of furs. Motionless and alive—or silent and dead? The tiny mouth opened when he prodded it, its teeth chewed slowly on the fragment of raw flesh. Seizing up the bundled meat he went looking for his son.

The young boys were always easy to find; you just listened for the shrill shouting. They were on the shore near the swamp now, crowing with victory. One of their snares had caught a good-sized bird. It could not escape because the snare on its ankle was secured to a heavy log, but could still hiss and snap at them, its wings beating furiously. Two of the boys were sitting on the overturned boat, nursing bloody fingers where the sharp serrated edge of the creature’s bill had cut them. Arnwheet called out happily when Kerrick came up.

“We caught it, Atta, all by ourselves, when it came to feed on the grass. Isn’t it fat?”

“Very. But are you sure that it didn’t catch you? It seems very much alive.”

“Kill it, sammadar,” one of the boys shouted and the others took up the cry. The bird looked at him with a wicked red eye and hissed again. He half raised the hèsotsan. But they were used only for killing invading murgu now. He handed the weapon to Arnwheet who took it proudly.

“Hold it as I showed you and do not touch the spot there.”

“I know, I know!”

He puffed his chest out and the other boys looked on jealously until Kerrick took out his knife and warily circled the bird. It turned to face him, bill gaping wide. One of the boys threw a stone which thumped into its side. It turned its head around and Kerrick seized its neck, cut its throat with a quick slash. It kicked and slumped into a huddle of gory feathers. The boys shrieked even more loudly and rushed forward. Kerrick retrieved the hèsotsan from his son.

“I am taking this meat to the island for Nadaske. You will come with me?”

Arnwheet squirmed and looked away. They were having such a good time here. Kerrick looked past him to the boys’ boat. He pointed to it. “You have been out in that?”

“Just into the swamp. The sammadars told us we could take it no further. Two boys did. They were beaten so hard they howled.”

“It is a very good thing that your father is a sammadar and does not have to worry about a beating. Run and get your bow and we will take the boat to the island. We will hunt.”