"What are those damn things?" asked O'Better, crowding forward to examine the screen.
"Shhh!" warned Qual. He continued in a dry whisper. "You are seeing sproingers and gryffs. They are a distance away, but they hear excellently. And the large creatures we hope to ambush hear even better. Quiet is obligatory if we are to accomplish anything." In fact, several of the animals had paused in their activity, and were peering around as if alerted. One or two of the larger ones-the gryffs?-were staring straight at the hunting -blind, although the hunters had taken considerable pains to make it indistinguishable from the rest of the nearby vegetation.
"So these ain't the ones we're looking for," said Asho, in a much lower voice. "When do they show up?"
"When they desire to," said Qual. "Sooner than we really want, I expect."
"Hell, bring' em on-I'm ready for' em," said Asho.
"If you continue to make so much noise, they will be here sooner than you think," said Qual, very softly. "But I don't think you will get very much chance to shoot at them."
"All right, L. P., let's listen to the native guide," said Austen Tay-Shun. "Let's bide our time so we can get a really good trophy. I'm a few bucks down, anyways-if the critters take their time, maybe I can win some of it back."
"That is the best plan," said Qual. "Softly, softly, catch a sproinger."
The hunters returned to their cards-and their beer-as the sun sank gradually lower in the west, and the heat of midday began to wane. For his part, Qual remained by the view screen, watching carefully, every now and then softly warning the card players to keep their voices down.
Finally, as the rim of the sun stood just a hand's breadth above the horizon, Qual let out another hiss. "Here is something different," he added in an almost inaudible whisper, pointing to the view screen.
"What is it now?" said L. P. Asho, but when he turned around and saw the screen, his mouth fell open, and he said nothing more. There on the screen was possibly the largest animal any of the three hunters had ever seen, on this world or any other. It had the general conformation of one of the Zenobian natives, but scaled up to nearly thirty meters in height. Its teeth were long and pointed, and its claws were almost the length of an adult human being. The hoverjeep-sized gryff lumbered away from it in panic, scattering like slow-motion mice before a cat.
"What the hell is that?" gasped Asho.
"It is a grggh," whispered Qual. "It has not sensed us yet."
"Is that what we're hunting?" asked O'Better, in a quavering voice.
"Until it begins hunting us, yes," said Qual. "Perhaps our weapons are adequate to repel it; this is one of the small ones."
"Repel it?" L. P. Asho's jaw dropped. "I don't want to repel it, I want somethin' for my trophy room."
"Shh!" said Qual. "We do not want to attract it any sooner than we must. It may have pack mates in the vicinity."
"Pack mates? You mean there might be more than one of these things?"
"They hunt in packs," said Qual. He peered at the screen. "I do not see another, yet; perhaps it is not hunting. That would be a rare piece of luck."
"Rare? What do you mean?"
"Grggh are constantly hunting," said Qual. "Do you think a beast can achieve those dimensions by restricting its caloric intake?"
"I guess not." said Asho. "Damn, I'd love to have that sucker's head in my trophy room. Couldn't get much more than that in without rebuildin'..."
"Hell, we'd have trouble gettin' it back to the ship, let alone liftin' off with it," said Austen Tay-Shun. "And that's not even thinkin' about trophies for the rest of us. I ain't goin' home with nothin' to show for it."
"Silence!" hissed Qual. "Something approaches!"
"Wha... ?" said L. P. Asho, but before he could complete the thought, the roof of the hunting shelter disappeared skyward, and a large, tooth-filled visage leaned down inquisitively toward the little group. The mouth opened, and a wave of heat-accompanied by the worst stench imaginable-filled the little shelter. With a choral scream of terror, the hunters bolted.
18
Journal #751
While I have never been attracted to a military career, my employer's tenure in the Space Legion has given me ample opportunity to assess the qualities requisite for- success in that branch of life. I do not think I flatter myself excessively if I state that I might have done better than most, had I been placed in such circumstances. Many of the necessary qualities of a gentleman's gentleman would serve, with little need for adaptation.
In fact, I doubt one officer in ten could match the average butler in the ability to tell when one's position has so grievously deteriorated that nothing remains but to make one's escape without undue regard for one's dignity. Indeed, in my experience, the higher one rises in the military rank, the more conspicuous is the lack of this invaluable quality.
On the other hand, the hunters from Tejas, whom 1 had never before observed to be in the possession of any outstanding virtue, proved to be quite sensible when it came to mounting a timely retreat. Indeed, they did it every bit as well as any general could have, and with a good bit less fuss.
Phule's hoverjeep pulled up to the hunters', camp just as Euston O'Better dashed out of his tent carrying a huge duffel bag. Ignoring the captain-and Beeker, who sat observing the scene with raised eyebrows-O'Better rushed breathlessly over to the shuttle and tossed the bundle through the cargo hatch. Then he turned and headed back to the tent.
"Good morning," said Phule, in a conversational tone.
0'Better jumped as if someone had set off a small explosive in his near vicinity. He landed facing the hoverjeep, at which point his mind apparently managed to process it as something not likely to eat him, and he snapped, "Durn it, you oughtn't sneak up on a fellow that way." Then, realizing there was no immediate threat, he relaxed, and said, "Sorry, Captain, but we've had a bit of a scare. Your planet's got some mighty ferocious critters on it, y'know?"
"Well, it's not really my planet," said Phule. "And I can't say I've really had time to do a proper survey of the local wildlife. Of course, the Zenobians do tell stories..."
"They don't do the critters justice," said O'Better, closing his eyes and shuddering. "Not even close... but I'm sorry, Captain. I guess you didn't come here just to chitchat, and to tell you the truth, I don't have a lot of time myself. What brings you out this way, Captain?" No sooner had he finished speaking than Austen Tay Shun and L. P. Asho dashed out of their tents, each carrying a large bundle that they proceeded to stow in the cargo hold of the shuttle. They turned, then, noticing the hoverjeep, lined up behind 0'Better, staring at Phule and Beeker, with unmistakably unfriendly expressions.
The silence built for a long moment before Phule broke it. "I'm sorry, Mr. O'Better," he said, scratching his head. "It looks as if I'm interrupting something. Were you gentlemen getting ready to move out?" He stepped out of the jeep, peering casually around the campsite. Sure enough, much of the fancy equipment that had been visible on his previous visit was out of sight-presumably packed up and stowed away in the shuttle.
O'Better grimaced, then said, "What the hell-there's no point telling anything but the truth. What happened is, me and the boys went out in the sticks with your local guide, plannin' to get those big trophies we'd come here lookin' for.