“This is how we will move,” he said. “The mastodons will travel side by side, in a group. Herilak will go before them with one group of hunters, since he is the sacripex and will lead in any battle against the murgu. But an attack might come from the sides—or even from behind—so we must be on guard at all times. You, Kellimans, will be with the hunters of your sammad to the left side, Ulfadan the same to the right. I will follow in the rear with other hunters. All of us will be armed with the death-sticks, as well as bows and spears. In this way, with hunters on all sides, we will be able to guard the sammads in the center . . .”

He was interrupted by a cry of alarm from one of the boys who were watching the forest around them. The hunters turned, weapons ready. A strange hunter had appeared from the trees and stood motionless, looking at them. He was from one of the sammads from beyond the mountains, they could tell that by the birchbark leggings he wore below his knees. It was Herilak who went forward to meet him. When he came close the hunter bent and placed his spear on the ground. Herilak did the same, and when he did so the hunter called out to him. Herilak shook his head, then turned and called back to the others.

“He speaks, but I understand little.”

“Newasfar will talk with him,” Ulfadan said. “He has hunted beyond the mountains and knows how they talk.”

Newasfar left his own spear behind and went to speak with the stranger while they all watched. There was a brief exchange which Newasfar translated.

“He is a sammadar called Har-Havola. He says that their mastodons died in the cold of winter and they had to eat them in order to stay alive themselves. Now all their food has gone and they will die when the snows come. He has heard that there is much food here and he asks for some.”

“No,” Herilak said in instant response. The other hunters nodded agreement. Har-Havola stepped back at this, for it was one word that he knew. He looked around at the expressionless faces, started to speak, then must have realized that it was useless. He bent and picked up his spear, was turning away—when Kerrick called out.

“Wait. Newasfar, tell him not to leave. Ask him how many hunters he has in his sammad?”

“We have no food to spare,” Herilak said. “He must leave.”