students of nature, all the party realised that no ordinary owl produced such a volume of noise. Instinctively the youngsters bunched closer together and with their leaders before them. Again the owl hooted, closer than before. One of the girls let out a scream of terror and pointed off towards the near-by trees. Following the direction she indicated, the remainder of the party saw a sight which chilled them to the marrow.
Coming out of the darkness was a vague, unreal white shape which looked neither animal nor human. Long white wings fluttered, spreading out menacingly, as the thing advanced on the children and again came the hooting of the owl—from the approaching thing.
‘ Piamempits! ’ screamed a girl.
Which exactly matched the thoughts reached by every member of the band and fired them all with the desire to escape.
Another hoot rang out from the creature and it darted forward like an ordinary owl swooping upon a fear-frozen mouse. Instantly the party scattered, screaming and shrieking in terror as they darted towards the safety of the village. Last to surrender the field were Loncey, Loud Voice and Comes For Food. Showing commendable courage, they allowed their younger companions to flee first, then whirled and ran themselves. In going Loud Voice caught his foot on the top of the depleted mound of ‘sugar’ sand, tripped and went crashing to the ground. He rolled over and let out a howl of terror as the shape bore down on him.
Hearing and recognising his foster-brother’s voice, Loncey skidded to a halt and twisted around. While as scared as any of the others, Loncey saw his ‘brother’ in trouble and showed something of the kind of man he would grow up to be. Flinging himself forwards with a juvenile attempt at a war yell that was three parts fear, Loncey hurled over his fallen ‘brother’ and crashed head first into the fluttering white shape. The force of his arrival brought a startled, very human-sounding grunt of pain from the thing, causing it to reel backwards and sit down hard. Unable to stop himself, Loncey landed on top of the shape and bore it backwards until it lay flat on the ground. Sheer instinct for self-preservation caused the terrified youngster to launch wild blows at the shape, while his lungs churned out screeches loud enough to waken the dead and drowned certain sounds made by ‘ Piamempits ’.
Loud Voice sat up, amazed to find himself still alive instead of being carried away by Piamempits . Then he saw Loncey and guessed what must have happened. A leg, looking surprisingly human, showed from the white form of Piamempits and waved wildly before the boy’s face. Grabbing hold of it, he sank his sharp teeth into its calf and hung on like a bulldog laying hold of a beef-critter’s nose.
Attracted by the screams of the children, men in the village raced for and bounded astride their horses after snatching up the nearest weapons. They expected an attack by some enemy as they charged towards the direction of the sounds and rode prepared to make a fight. Passing the fleeing children on his way out of the camp, Sam Ysabel noticed Loncey was missing and cold anxiety bit at him. He gripped the butt of the Walker Colt holstered at his side and swore vengeance should a hair of the boy’s head be harmed by the attackers. Gun in hand—he had inspected the revolver designed to Captain Walker’s recommendations; decided it was worth owning and so bought one—he reached the sand bank first of the rescue party. Sliding the grulla stallion to a halt, he stared at the sight before him. The Colt’s barrel sagged groundwards and a bellow of laughter broke from him.
Flat on his back, raising a tolerable fuss considering his disadvantages, with Loncey seated upon his chest throwing punches at him and Loud Voice gnawing at his leg, Sleeps Long And Deep emitted bellows of mingled rage and pain. Other men drew their horses up and joined in the laughter as their eyes took in the scene. Every one
Coming out of the darkness was a vague, unreal white shape which looked neither animal nor human. Long white wings fluttered, spreading out menacingly, as the thing advanced on the children and again came the hooting of the owl—from the approaching thing.
‘ Piamempits! ’ screamed a girl.
Which exactly matched the thoughts reached by every member of the band and fired them all with the desire to escape.
Another hoot rang out from the creature and it darted forward like an ordinary owl swooping upon a fear-frozen mouse. Instantly the party scattered, screaming and shrieking in terror as they darted towards the safety of the village. Last to surrender the field were Loncey, Loud Voice and Comes For Food. Showing commendable courage, they allowed their younger companions to flee first, then whirled and ran themselves. In going Loud Voice caught his foot on the top of the depleted mound of ‘sugar’ sand, tripped and went crashing to the ground. He rolled over and let out a howl of terror as the shape bore down on him.
Hearing and recognising his foster-brother’s voice, Loncey skidded to a halt and twisted around. While as scared as any of the others, Loncey saw his ‘brother’ in trouble and showed something of the kind of man he would grow up to be. Flinging himself forwards with a juvenile attempt at a war yell that was three parts fear, Loncey hurled over his fallen ‘brother’ and crashed head first into the fluttering white shape. The force of his arrival brought a startled, very human-sounding grunt of pain from the thing, causing it to reel backwards and sit down hard. Unable to stop himself, Loncey landed on top of the shape and bore it backwards until it lay flat on the ground. Sheer instinct for self-preservation caused the terrified youngster to launch wild blows at the shape, while his lungs churned out screeches loud enough to waken the dead and drowned certain sounds made by ‘ Piamempits ’.
Loud Voice sat up, amazed to find himself still alive instead of being carried away by Piamempits . Then he saw Loncey and guessed what must have happened. A leg, looking surprisingly human, showed from the white form of Piamempits and waved wildly before the boy’s face. Grabbing hold of it, he sank his sharp teeth into its calf and hung on like a bulldog laying hold of a beef-critter’s nose.
Attracted by the screams of the children, men in the village raced for and bounded astride their horses after snatching up the nearest weapons. They expected an attack by some enemy as they charged towards the direction of the sounds and rode prepared to make a fight. Passing the fleeing children on his way out of the camp, Sam Ysabel noticed Loncey was missing and cold anxiety bit at him. He gripped the butt of the Walker Colt holstered at his side and swore vengeance should a hair of the boy’s head be harmed by the attackers. Gun in hand—he had inspected the revolver designed to Captain Walker’s recommendations; decided it was worth owning and so bought one—he reached the sand bank first of the rescue party. Sliding the grulla stallion to a halt, he stared at the sight before him. The Colt’s barrel sagged groundwards and a bellow of laughter broke from him.
Flat on his back, raising a tolerable fuss considering his disadvantages, with Loncey seated upon his chest throwing punches at him and Loud Voice gnawing at his leg, Sleeps Long And Deep emitted bellows of mingled rage and pain. Other men drew their horses up and joined in the laughter as their eyes took in the scene. Every one
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