Glory was a big-boned, homely woman, middle-aged, with no children. Her clumsiness had given her an unwanted fame. She blamed Harp the teller for that, and not without justice. There was the tale of the turkey cage; and he told another regarding the pink scar that ran down her right leg, gained when she was still involved in cooking duties.

The hate in Alfin's eyes recalled the time she'd clouted him across the ear with a branchwood beam, but it spoke more of Alfin's tendency to

hold grudges. Gardener, garbage man, funeral director . . · he was no hunter, let alone an explorer, but he was here. No wonder he'd looked bereaved.

Glory waited cross-legged, eyes downcast. Alfin watched her with smoldering hate. Merril seemed impassive, relaxed, but Jiovan was muttering steadily under his breath.

These, his companions? Gavving~s belly clenched agonizingly on the musrum.

Then Clave entered the Commons, briskly, with a young woman on each arm. He looked about him as if liking what he saw.

It was true. Clave was coming.

They watched him prodding the piled equipment with his feet, nodding, nodding. "Good," he said briskly and looked about him at his waiting companions. "We're going to have to carry all this treefodder. Start dividing it up. You'll probably want it on your back, moored with your line, but take your choice. Lose your pack and I'll send you home."

The musruin loosed its grip on Gavving's belly. Clave was the ideal hunter: built long and narrow, two and a half meters of bone and muscle. He could pick a man up by wrapping the fingers of one hand around the man's head, and his long toes could throw a rock as well as Gavving's hands. His companions were Jayan and Jinny, twins, the dark and pretty daughters of Martal and a long-dead hunter. Without orders, they began loading equipment into the sacks. Others moved forward to help.

Alfin spoke. "I take it you're our leader?"

"Right."

"Just what are we supposed to be doing with all this?"

"We go up along the trunk. We renew the Quinn markings as we go. We keep going until we find whatever it takes to save the tribe. It could be food-"

"On the bare trunk?"

Clave looked him over. "We've spent all our lives along two klomters of branch. The Scientist tells me that the trunk is a hundred klomters long. Maybe more. We don't know what's up there. Whatever we need, it isn't here."

"You know why we're going. We're being thrown out," Alfln said. "Nine fewer mouths to feed, and look at who-"

dave rode him down. He could outshout thunder when he wanted

to. "Would you like to stay, Alfin?" He waited, but Alfin didn't answer. "Stay, then. You explain why you didn't come."

"I'm coming." Alfln's voice was almost inaudible. dave had made no threats, and didn't have to. They had been assigned. Anyone who stayed would be subject to charges of mutiny.