snow. The man must, thus, in the instant, change his aim to the third mounted rider, he who held the lance across his body. He fells him. The dark guest acts. He leaps across the body of the slain kailiauk. He seizes the man who had fallen to the snow."
I did not care to look at that picture.
"We may conjecture that the hunter in the snow has screamed," said Kog. "The two other hunters, with their lances across their backs, bolt away. In the distance they turn to regard the kailiauk, the dark guest, the man. The dark guest leaps to the carcass of the kailiauk, its blood red in the snow. Nearby, in the snow, lies he who had been the second mounted hunter. His lance is broken. His body has been half bitten through. The dark guest throws back his head, scratches at his chest, lifts his clawed hands, challenges the other two mounted hunters. The blood of the second hunter is red about his jaws and on the matted fur of his chest. The other two hunters take their leave. Now the dark guest and the man are alone, with the kailiauk, with three riderless kaiila. The dark guest again crouches behind the kailiauk. The man puts away his bow and arrows. The dark guest invites him to the feast."
"The story is an interesting invention," said Samos.
"Turn the hide," I said to Kog.
"The dark guest has left," said Kog. "The man cuts meat from the kailiauk."
Kog again turned the hide.
"The man returns to his camp," said Kog. "He returns with three kaiila, on one of which he rides. The other two are burdened with meat from the kailiauk. Now there will not be hunger in his camp. He returns, too, with the hide of the kailiauk rolled before him, and three scalps. He will make a shield."
Again Kog turned the hide.
"This is the shield that he will make," said Kog, indicating the last picture on the hide. This last picture was much larger than the other pictures. It was some seven or eight inches in diameter.
"I see," I said.
Me shield bears, clearly delineated, the visage of the dark guest, the medicine helper."
"Yes," I said. "Do you recognize the pictures?" asked Kog.
"Yes," I said, "it is Zarendargar, Half-Ear."
"You cannot be sure," said Samos.
"We, too, believe it to be Zarendargar, whom some humans call Half- Ear," said Kog.
"He is, then, alive," I said.
"It would seem so," said Kog.
"Why have you shown us the pictures?" I asked.
"We wish your help, " said Kog.
"To rescue him from the Barrens?" I asked.
"No," said Kog, "to kill him."
"This is preposterous," said Samos. "This entire story is naught but the fantasy of a savage."
"You will note," said Kog, "that the story is unfolded on this hide."
"So?" asked Samos.
It is kailiauk hide," said Kog.
"So?" asked Samos.
"The red savages depend for their very lives on the kailiauk said Kog.
"He is the major source of their food and life. His meat and hide, his bones and sinew, sustain them. From him they derive not only food, but clothing and shelter, tools and weapons."
"I know," said Samos. "I know."
"In their stories they revere, him. His images and relics figure in their medicine."
"I know," said Samos.
"Further, they believe that if they are unworthy of the kailiauk, be will go away. And they believe that this once happened, long ago."
"So?" asked Samos.
"So" said Kog, "they do not lie on the hide of the kailiauk. It would be the last place in the world that they would choose to lie. On the hide of the kailiauk one may paint only truth."
Samos was silent.
"Beyond this," said Kog, "note that the image of the dark guest appears on the shield."
"I see," said Samos.
"It is a belief of the red savages that if they are unworthy, or do not speak the truth, that their shield will not protect them, it will move aside or will not turn the arrows and lances of enemies. Many warriors claim to have seen this happen. The shields, too, are made of the hide of the kailiauk from the thick hide of the back of the neck, where the skin and musculature are thick, to support the
I did not care to look at that picture.
"We may conjecture that the hunter in the snow has screamed," said Kog. "The two other hunters, with their lances across their backs, bolt away. In the distance they turn to regard the kailiauk, the dark guest, the man. The dark guest leaps to the carcass of the kailiauk, its blood red in the snow. Nearby, in the snow, lies he who had been the second mounted hunter. His lance is broken. His body has been half bitten through. The dark guest throws back his head, scratches at his chest, lifts his clawed hands, challenges the other two mounted hunters. The blood of the second hunter is red about his jaws and on the matted fur of his chest. The other two hunters take their leave. Now the dark guest and the man are alone, with the kailiauk, with three riderless kaiila. The dark guest again crouches behind the kailiauk. The man puts away his bow and arrows. The dark guest invites him to the feast."
"The story is an interesting invention," said Samos.
"Turn the hide," I said to Kog.
"The dark guest has left," said Kog. "The man cuts meat from the kailiauk."
Kog again turned the hide.
"The man returns to his camp," said Kog. "He returns with three kaiila, on one of which he rides. The other two are burdened with meat from the kailiauk. Now there will not be hunger in his camp. He returns, too, with the hide of the kailiauk rolled before him, and three scalps. He will make a shield."
Again Kog turned the hide.
"This is the shield that he will make," said Kog, indicating the last picture on the hide. This last picture was much larger than the other pictures. It was some seven or eight inches in diameter.
"I see," I said.
Me shield bears, clearly delineated, the visage of the dark guest, the medicine helper."
"Yes," I said. "Do you recognize the pictures?" asked Kog.
"Yes," I said, "it is Zarendargar, Half-Ear."
"You cannot be sure," said Samos.
"We, too, believe it to be Zarendargar, whom some humans call Half- Ear," said Kog.
"He is, then, alive," I said.
"It would seem so," said Kog.
"Why have you shown us the pictures?" I asked.
"We wish your help, " said Kog.
"To rescue him from the Barrens?" I asked.
"No," said Kog, "to kill him."
"This is preposterous," said Samos. "This entire story is naught but the fantasy of a savage."
"You will note," said Kog, "that the story is unfolded on this hide."
"So?" asked Samos.
It is kailiauk hide," said Kog.
"So?" asked Samos.
"The red savages depend for their very lives on the kailiauk said Kog.
"He is the major source of their food and life. His meat and hide, his bones and sinew, sustain them. From him they derive not only food, but clothing and shelter, tools and weapons."
"I know," said Samos. "I know."
"In their stories they revere, him. His images and relics figure in their medicine."
"I know," said Samos.
"Further, they believe that if they are unworthy of the kailiauk, be will go away. And they believe that this once happened, long ago."
"So?" asked Samos.
"So" said Kog, "they do not lie on the hide of the kailiauk. It would be the last place in the world that they would choose to lie. On the hide of the kailiauk one may paint only truth."
Samos was silent.
"Beyond this," said Kog, "note that the image of the dark guest appears on the shield."
"I see," said Samos.
"It is a belief of the red savages that if they are unworthy, or do not speak the truth, that their shield will not protect them, it will move aside or will not turn the arrows and lances of enemies. Many warriors claim to have seen this happen. The shields, too, are made of the hide of the kailiauk from the thick hide of the back of the neck, where the skin and musculature are thick, to support the
Similar Books
