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Authors: Alfred Reynolds
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shouted and pointed at him with their spears. But after a few minutes, their leader, who was wearing a wolf's-head cap, shouted orders, and they resumed their fast march. Karl wheeled and dove for the mountain valley, heading away from the flock. He had to fly a good distance before he was out of sight and could double back safely.
When Karl had returned, Gardo looked at him with a disgruntled expression. "Out playing with the eagles?"
"No," Karl answered, "looking for Northmen, and I found them."
A grave look of concern crossed Gardo's face, and he stopped still. "How many?"
"I counted over thirty."
"Don't make jokes. They're never in groups of more than three or four."
"Over thirty," Karl repeated.
Gardo lowered himself to the ground and sat dumbly. At that instant Rika arrived, breathless, with Rolf at her heels. She had anticipated the news.
"How far?" she gasped.
"About five miles," Karl said, "and they're coming this way."
"Over thirty of them," Gardo repeated as if dazed. "We're lost."
"We have to run for our lives," Rolf said.
"What, and leave the flock to them?" his grandfather exclaimed. "Never!" He rose to his feet unsteadily. "We haven't a second to waste. Turn the flock around and drive them back. If we drive them fast enough, we might make it. Come on, let's go!"
"Grandfather, wait!" Rika shouted. "Let's take a few seconds and consider what we might do before we go dashing off. If we haven't time to think the situation over, we're lost anyway."
"You could fly over the Northmen and scare them," Rolf said to Karl. "That would slow them down."
"They're not afraid of me," Karl answered. But then a possibility occurred to him. "If we leave some food for them, I know they'll stop to eat it. I've been a starving hunter myself."
"Then we'll leave them one sheep," said Gardo.
"No, at least ten," said Karl, watching Gardo's stingy grimace.
"And give them nine sheep for nothing!" exclaimed Gardo.
"They'll stop and eat!" Karl said. "One sheep would just make them hurry faster to find the flock. I'll drive ten sheep toward them from here so they won't see the tracks of the full flock. When I see the Northmen coming, I'll set up my wing and circle back."
"Don't circle back to us," said Rika. "Fly back to Eftah and tell Athgar what's happened so he can send help. Meanwhile, we'll drive the flock toward home as fast as we can."
Karl wrapped up his kitewing while Gardo, Rika, and Rolf sorted out the ten sheep to leave for the Northmen. With help from Rika and Rolf, Karl started driving the sheep along the ridge toward the Northmen. Behind him he could hear Gardo shouting to get the main flock moving back the way they had come.
Karl was still a novice at driving sheep, but he had learned enough so that guiding the small flock was not difficult. As he neared the pinnacle of rock he noticed earlier, a ground squirrel whistled. But Karl was not fooled, nor was he surprised when the Northmen came into view. Turning aside, he ran to the edge of the steep slope. As he raced to set up his wing, he saw several hunters running straight toward him, their spears raised.
Karl jumped into his straps and started down the slope. A spear struck sparks on a boulder beneath his feet, and a savage cry made him turn. He saw the leader of the Northmen set an arrow to his bow. Karl veered away so sharply that his wingtip nearly hit the ground and the Northman's arrow clattered harmlessly through the terry-bone framework of his wing. The rest of the Northmen shook their spears and screamed at him like savage animals as he gained altitude and safety.
Karl was careful to depart in a direction that these barbarian hunters would not link with Eftah. Then he circled back behind a second ridge and started for the mountain village.
When Eftah came into view, the sight of the village nestled into the mountains spoke of protection and comfort. Wasting no time, Karl banked his wing into a steep spiral and descended as rapidly as he dared,
When Karl had returned, Gardo looked at him with a disgruntled expression. "Out playing with the eagles?"
"No," Karl answered, "looking for Northmen, and I found them."
A grave look of concern crossed Gardo's face, and he stopped still. "How many?"
"I counted over thirty."
"Don't make jokes. They're never in groups of more than three or four."
"Over thirty," Karl repeated.
Gardo lowered himself to the ground and sat dumbly. At that instant Rika arrived, breathless, with Rolf at her heels. She had anticipated the news.
"How far?" she gasped.
"About five miles," Karl said, "and they're coming this way."
"Over thirty of them," Gardo repeated as if dazed. "We're lost."
"We have to run for our lives," Rolf said.
"What, and leave the flock to them?" his grandfather exclaimed. "Never!" He rose to his feet unsteadily. "We haven't a second to waste. Turn the flock around and drive them back. If we drive them fast enough, we might make it. Come on, let's go!"
"Grandfather, wait!" Rika shouted. "Let's take a few seconds and consider what we might do before we go dashing off. If we haven't time to think the situation over, we're lost anyway."
"You could fly over the Northmen and scare them," Rolf said to Karl. "That would slow them down."
"They're not afraid of me," Karl answered. But then a possibility occurred to him. "If we leave some food for them, I know they'll stop to eat it. I've been a starving hunter myself."
"Then we'll leave them one sheep," said Gardo.
"No, at least ten," said Karl, watching Gardo's stingy grimace.
"And give them nine sheep for nothing!" exclaimed Gardo.
"They'll stop and eat!" Karl said. "One sheep would just make them hurry faster to find the flock. I'll drive ten sheep toward them from here so they won't see the tracks of the full flock. When I see the Northmen coming, I'll set up my wing and circle back."
"Don't circle back to us," said Rika. "Fly back to Eftah and tell Athgar what's happened so he can send help. Meanwhile, we'll drive the flock toward home as fast as we can."
Karl wrapped up his kitewing while Gardo, Rika, and Rolf sorted out the ten sheep to leave for the Northmen. With help from Rika and Rolf, Karl started driving the sheep along the ridge toward the Northmen. Behind him he could hear Gardo shouting to get the main flock moving back the way they had come.
Karl was still a novice at driving sheep, but he had learned enough so that guiding the small flock was not difficult. As he neared the pinnacle of rock he noticed earlier, a ground squirrel whistled. But Karl was not fooled, nor was he surprised when the Northmen came into view. Turning aside, he ran to the edge of the steep slope. As he raced to set up his wing, he saw several hunters running straight toward him, their spears raised.
Karl jumped into his straps and started down the slope. A spear struck sparks on a boulder beneath his feet, and a savage cry made him turn. He saw the leader of the Northmen set an arrow to his bow. Karl veered away so sharply that his wingtip nearly hit the ground and the Northman's arrow clattered harmlessly through the terry-bone framework of his wing. The rest of the Northmen shook their spears and screamed at him like savage animals as he gained altitude and safety.
Karl was careful to depart in a direction that these barbarian hunters would not link with Eftah. Then he circled back behind a second ridge and started for the mountain village.
When Eftah came into view, the sight of the village nestled into the mountains spoke of protection and comfort. Wasting no time, Karl banked his wing into a steep spiral and descended as rapidly as he dared,
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