The director said helplessly, "Very well, Miss Clark, but don't stray
from the party."
Then he shook hands all around and bade them be careful once more. It
gave Matt an odd feeling. They were acting as if they were preparing to
explore a strange alien planet instead of Earth.
* * * * *
It was a queer homecoming in more ways than one, he reflected soberly.
The little party of five men and a girl made their way cautiously down
the valley. They were all armed with high powered rifles except the
girl, and she had her automatic. They didn't talk much.
The rain had stopped and a warm spring sun beat down relentlessly. Matt
began to sweat. He was conscious of birds among the scrub pine and oak
cloaking the hillsides. They were familiar birds--robins and sparrows.
There was a drowsy hum of bees in the air. A crow flapped overhead,
cawing discordantly. The brook, muddy and swollen by the rains, purled
along on their left.
"Watch the wire," said Bascom. The _Argus'_ captain was in the lead. He
pointed out a rusted strand of barb wire half hidden by weeds. Ahead of
them was an opening in the woods.
It might have been a pasture at one time, but it was overgrown with
ironweed and sassafras shoots.
Matt said, "Isn't that a house? There." He pointed. "Straight down the
valley. See? In among that clump of trees."
"Yes," Lynn said breathlessly. "We couldn't have seen any lights last
night because of the foliage."
"Don't get too hopeful," said Matt.
They trooped eagerly across the pasture and climbed another rusted
fence. When they were still fifty yards distant, it became apparent
that the house was deserted.
It was a big frame farm house, Matt saw. The front door hung askew.
Several panes of glass were gone from the windows, and the yard was
overgrown with weeds.
Lynn's mouth drooped with disappointment. Then she squared her
shoulders. "Maybe it's just vacant," she suggested hopefully.
Captain Bascom frowned.
Matt said, "There's no use kidding ourselves. Something's happened.
We'd better be prepared for some kind of a shock. Maybe, like Isaac
suggested, we've landed in a plague area that's been evacuated."
"Well," said Captain Bascom, "we'd better take a look at the house."
They started across the side yard again, when a squeal from within the
building halted them. There was the clatter of sharp hoofs. A poland
china boar burst out of the front door and across the porch. He was
big, almost as big as a pony, and lean as a Georgia razor-back. Two
wicked tusks curved upward a good seven inches from his snout. His
little bloodshot eyes surveyed the intruders angrily. Then without a
sound he charged.
* * * * *
Matt drew a bead directly between and a little above the boar's eyes
and squeezed the trigger. The 30-06 kicked viciously. The boar plunged
snout-on into the soft earth, squealing eerily. Blood gushed from its
mouth. Its feet threshed spasmodically, and then fell still.
Matt could feel his pulse beating high and hot in his throat. He worked
another cartridge into the chamber with his bolt. "Nasty-tempered
brute!" he said dryly.
Nesbit mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. "That was nice
shooting, Matt," he conceded in a queer voice.
Matt glanced at the palaeontologist sharply. Ever since that episode
on the observation deck, Nesbit had been avoiding him as much as was
possible aboard a spaceship.
Nesbit couldn't forget that he must have appeared rather silly, Matt
realized. He shrugged, started for the house with a great deal of
caution. The others followed. They went across the porch, peered
through the front door.
The room was a mess, Matt saw. Obviously the boar had been lairing in
the house. Bones were scattered helter skelter about the floor.
"Those look like human bones," said Captain Bascom.
Matt nodded grimly. "They are. Look. The skulls!" He pointed at a
corner.
There were two of them, grinning at them in the morning light that
streamed through the glassless windows. The bones had been gnawed, some
of them splintered.
"That pig!" said Matt.