West of Eden by Harry Harrison Page B

could feel his heart beat loudly as he followed the big hunter, moving as quietly as he could; the crackling was louder now.
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    As they came to the base of the dune they smelled the sweet and sickening smell of rotting flesh. The remains of the butchered deer carcasses had been dumped here, well away from their camp. The crackling sound was much louder now, as well as the buzzing of countless flies. Hastila signaled Kerrick to wait while he moved up the slope and peered carefully over. He drew back and turned to Kerrick, his face twisted with disgust, and waved the boy up to join him. When they were both below the crest he raised his spear into throwing position and Kerrick did the same. What was there? What creature were they stalking? Filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity Kerrick crouched—then jumped forward just behind the hunter.
    Hastila shouted loudly and three creatures looked up from their grisly work, stood motionless for an instant at his sudden appearance. The hunter's arm snapped down, his spear flew straight, struck the nearest one between the forelegs. It fell and thrashed, screeching loudly. The others fled, hissing with fear, long legs pumping, necks and tails outstretched.
    Kerrick had not moved, still stood with his spear held high, rigid with fear. Murgu. The one that was dying, clawing at the spear with sharp-clawed toes, was too much like the marag he had speared in the sea. Mouth open. Sharp teeth. Something from a nightmare.
    Hastila had not looked at the boy, did not notice his open fear. He was too obsessed with his own hatred.
    Murgu. How he loathed them. This carrion eater, blood and bits of decay still on its head and neck, snapped feebly at him as he came up. He kicked it aside, stood on its neck while he pulled his spear free.
    It was scaled and green-spotted, pale gray as a corpse, as long as a man although its head was no bigger than his hand. He plunged the spear home again and it trembled and died. He waved the clouds of flies from his face as he climbed back out of the pit. Kerrick had lowered his spear and fought to control his trembling. Hastila saw this and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
    "Do not be afraid of them. For all their size they are cowards, carrion eaters, filth. Hate them—but do not fear them. Remember always what they are. When Ermanpadar made the Tanu from the mud of the river, he made the deer and the other animals as well for the Tanu to hunt. He put them down in the grass beside the mountains where there is clean snow and fresh water. But then he looked and saw all the emptiness to the south. But by then he was tired and far distant from the river so he did not return to it but instead dug deep into the green slime of the swamp. With this he made the murgu and they are green to this day and fit only for killing so they can decay back into the swamp from which they were born."
    While he spoke Hastila plunged his spear into the sand and twisted it to remove all the stains of the marag's blood. When this was done he was quieter; most of Kerrick's fear had ebbed away. The marag was dead, the others gone. Soon they would leave this shore and return to the sammad.
    "Now I will show you how to stalk your prey," Hastila said. "Those murgu were eating or they would have heard you—you sounded like a mastodon going up the slope."
    "I was quiet!" Kerrick said defensively. "I know how to walk. I stalked a squirrel once, right up so close West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    that I was only a spear length away—"
    "The squirrel is the stupidest animal, the longtooth is the smartest. The deer is not smart, but he can hear the best of all. Now I will stand here in the sand and you will go up the bank and into the deep grass.
    Then stalk me. In silence—for I have the ears of the deer."
    Kerrick ran happily up the slope and through the wet grass—then dropped and crawled away from the camp. He went on this way, as silently as he could, then turned