When it was time for the hunt next day he did go out with his weapon until he saw which way Stallan and the others had gone—then he went in the opposite direction. He had no desire to be the victim of a fatal accident.

Hunting was not easy with the clumsy Inlènu* in tow, but he did as well as he could. He had some success and in the coming days Inlènu* carried more than one deer back to the beach. But more important than the deer themselves was the way he felt when stalking his prey through the high grass. It was a pleasure beyond pleasure. He did not notice when he grew tired: his appetite was ravenous and he slept well. The hunting continued as they moved slowly north, and every day he found that he could do that little bit more. By the time they left the ocean and started up the wide river he felt as strong as he ever had. It was only a few days after that when they had their first battle, their first massacre of the summer.

Kerrick stayed at his usual place in the encampment on the river bank when the others left. The raptor’s pictures had shown that the ustuzou were moving in this direction along the river bank, so the ambush had been carefully laid. It was no affair of Kerrick’s. He sat cross-legged on the ground and teased the hèsotsan’s mouth open with his fingernail, then pushed a fragment of meat into it, thinking of the next hunt. Inlènu* was so noisy. But at least she had learned to be motionless and quiet when they stopped. He would do a wide circle around the next herd of deer that they found, then lie in wait downwind from them. The deer would move away from the other hunters and approach him—instead of the other way around. It was a good plan.

The distant shriek cut through his thoughts. Even Inlènu* stirred herself and looked around. It sounded again, louder, closer. Kerrick jumped to his feet, the weapon in both hands ready to fire as the cry came again, the sound of heavy thudding.

There was a harsh bellow from the bank above them and a great head appeared. Long white tusks, a lifted trunk, the deafening shriek again.

“Kill the ustuzou,” Inlènu* pleaded. “Kill, kill!”

Kerrick had the hèsotsan in a line before his eyes, looking along it at the creature’s dark eye glaring down at him.

“Karu . . .” he said, and did not fire. Inlènu* moaned in fear.

The mastodon lifted its trunk and bellowed again. Then turned and vanished from sight.