"Send them out. North, to the quicksands." My arms and shoulders ached
and I was swaying on my feet. I hardly heard Quern's thin, dreamy
voice. I did hear the slow, obedient noise of their great feet slogging
away, the last male _cansin_ a dull green mote above them.
And I heard Gow crying.
* * * * *
We got the last of the animals back by noon of the next day. We did
what we could for Nahru. Thank God our own beasts hadn't done much
damage. We left a lot of Beamish's credits to help out, and took the
old tub off away from there.
Bucky Shannon recovered nicely. I'm still herding his Imperial Washout
around the Triangle. We're not doing so hot without Gertrude, but what
the hell--we're used to the sewage lock.
And if anyone has a _cansin_ he wants to sell.... Thanks, chum, but
we're not in the market. Now, or ever.
I sometimes wonder if there are any more of them in the deep swamps,
waiting for their mate to come back.