"I can see you are. Even my wives are. I wonder if anyone can know how
wonderful it feels to have people _all_ afraid of you."
"The farn beasts, according to the manual...."
"You are very insistent on one subject."
"... It's the only thing I know anything about. The farn beast, as I
was saying, sir, is the particular enemy of men. Or if you like, of
aliens. Sir."
"All right," Extrone said, annoyed. "I'll be careful."
In the distance, a farn beast coughed.
Instantly alert, Extrone said, "Get the bearers! Have some of them cut
a path through that damn thicket! And tell those two businessmen to get
the hell over here!"
Lin smiled, his eyes suddenly afire with the excitement of the hunt.
* * * * *
Four hours later, they were well into the scrub forest. Extrone walked
leisurely, well back of the cutters, who hacked away, methodically, at
the vines and branches which might impede his forward progress. Their
sharp, awkward knives snickered rhythmically to the rasp of their heavy
breathing.
Occasionally, Extrone halted, motioned for his water carrier, and drank
deeply of the icy water to allay the heat of the forest, a heat made
oppressive by the press of foliage against the outside air.
Ranging out, on both sides of the central body, the two businessmen
fought independently against the wild growth, each scouting the flanks
for farn beasts, and ahead, beyond the cutters, Lin flittered among the
tree trunks, sometimes far, sometimes near.
Extrone carried the only weapon, slung easily over his shoulder, a
powerful blast rifle, capable of piercing medium armor in sustained
fire. To his rear, the water carrier was trailed by a man bearing a
folding stool, and behind him, a man carrying the heavy, high-powered
two-way communication set.
Once Extrone unslung his blast rifle and triggered a burst at a tiny,
arboreal mammal, which, upon the impact, shattered asunder, to
Extrone's satisfied chuckle, in a burst of blood and fur.
When the sun stood high and heat exhaustion made the near-naked bearers
slump, Extrone permitted a rest. While waiting for the march to resume,
he sat on the stool with his back against an ancient tree and patted,
reflectively, the blast rifle, lying across his legs.
"For you, sir," the communications man said, interrupting his reverie.
"Damn," Extrone muttered. His face twisted in anger. "It better be
important." He took the head-set and mike and nodded to the bearer. The
bearer twiddled the dials.
"Extrone. Eh?... Oh, you got their ship. Well, why in hell bother
me?... All right, so they found out I was here. You got them, didn't
you?"
"Blasted them right out of space," the voice crackled excitedly. "Right
in the middle of a radio broadcast, sir."
"I don't want to listen to your gabbling when I'm hunting!" Extrone
tore off the head-set and handed it to the bearer. "If they call back,
find out what they want, first. I don't want to be bothered unless it's
important."
"Yes, sir."
Extrone squinted up at the sun; his eyes crinkled under the glare, and
perspiration stood in little droplets on the back of his hands.
Lin, returning to the column, threaded his way among reclining
bearers. He stopped before Extrone and tossed his hair out of his eyes.
"I located a spoor," he said, suppressed eagerness in his voice. "About
a quarter ahead. It looks fresh."
Extrone's eyes lit with passion.
Lin's face was red with heat and grimy with sweat. "There were two, I
think."
"Two?" Extrone grinned, petting the rifle. "You and I better go forward
and look at the spoor."