“Leave your spears so they will not weigh you down,” Kerrick said. “Take dried meat and ekkotaz, but only enough for three days. You will not need the spears because you will not hunt. You are there to watch. You will have your bows, and you will take a hèsotsan as well for protection. As you go south always stay within sight of the river, even if it takes you longer that way. Go until it is dark and remain by the river at night. Return on the third day if we have not sent for you, for we will stay here no longer than that. Watch the river all of the time—but leave it at once if you see the murgu. If you see them you must get back here as quickly as you can.”

The two hunters ran. An easy and steady, ground-eating pace. The sky was overcast, the day cool, which made the running that much easier. They ran along the bank of the wide river, and splashed through the shallows when they were forced to, or climbed the high banks, never letting the water out of their sight. The river remained empty. When the sun was high they stopped, soaked in sweat, and drank deep from a clear stream that fell in a waterfall over a stone bank, then splashed into the river below. They cooled their faces in the spray, then chewed some of the smoked meat. They did not stop long.

In midafternoon they came to a place where the river cut a great loop into the plain. They were on a rise above it and could see where the course of the river curved out, then back.

“It is shorter to cross the bend here,” Sigurnath said. Peremandu looked at it, then rubbed the perspiration from his face with the back of his hand.

“Shorter—but we will not be able to see the water. They could pass by and we would not know. We must stay by the river.”

As they looked south they became aware of a cloud on the horizon that billowed upwards. It grew while they watched, puzzled, for they had never seen a cloud like that before.

“What is it?” Sigurnath asked.

“Dust,” Peremandu said, for he was known for his keen sight. “A cloud of dust. Maybe the duck-bills, a large herd.”

“As long as we have hunted them I have never seen a thing like this. It is too big, too wide—and it grows.”

They watched as the cloud of dust came closer, until the animals could be seen running before it. A very large herd indeed. There were some of them out ahead of the pack and Peremandu shaded his eyes with his hand, trying to make them out.

“They are murgu!” he cried in sudden horror. “Death-stick murgu. Run!”