Read Online The Hunter Returns by David Drake, Jim Kjelgaard - Free Book Online
Authors: David Drake, Jim Kjelgaard
Ads: Link
make a difference.
Beyond the circle of firelight, the dire wolves crept closer on their bellies. They were drawn by the slurping sounds as the saber-tooths gorged on their prey.
The fire was beginning to burn low. Kar threw another branch on it. He was worried. Not very much dry wood remained, and Boartooth had been right when he said that the alders would not burn well.
Kar woke up abruptly at the sound of Wolf’s voice shouting, “. . . the fire! It’s too low!”
The campfire was a bank of red coals, shimmering angrily while the tribe sprawled around it.
Everyone had been asleep. The huge meal following days of hunger had acted like a drug on the humans, despite the predators encircling them.
Kar couldn’t believe that he had fallen asleep in the midst of this danger, but even the sound of the tigers eating had become a neutral background instead of a threat. The cats weren’t interested in human beings while the mammoth was available for food, after all.
Kar scrabbled for wood in the darkness. There had been a bundle of alders beside him. His hand found nothing. One of his assistants—Chinless should have been on watch—had thrown the whole mass on the fire and gone to sleep. The alders would not keep burning without a careful hand to stir the green stems.
Awakening hunters shouted nervously when they saw the state of the fire. An infant screamed, terrified by the atmosphere of fright.
“Chinless!” Kar ordered. “Boartooth! Get more wood!”
The Chief Fire-Maker himself snatched at partly burned saplings that stuck out from the heart of the fire. He stuffed them into the glowing center. The wood flared in a brief revival, singeing Kar’s forearm and hand. The eyes of the dire wolves gleamed around the tribe, as close as a garnet necklace to the throat of a chief.
Hunters shouted. Some of them threw spears.
“Don’t throw!” Wolf bellowed. “Stab if the wolves come close, but don’t waste your spears!”
Chinless reached for the club he had left on the ground where he had been sleeping. “There isn’t any more wood!” he said. A dire wolf rose from its crouch and clamped its huge jaws over Chinless’s elbow. The man’s voice rose into a scream.
Kar thrust his handful of alder stems into the wolf’s face. His swift motion quenched the flames on the green wood. The smoldering ends left a smear along the carnivore’s gray fur, but the wolf only growled deeper in its throat. It backed away from the camp, dragging Kar’s whimpering assistant with it.
Another dire wolf grabbed Chinless by the leg in its bone-crushing jaws. More of the pack converged on the sudden prey—but a single man was no meal for a dozen animals as big as these. Several sprang into the camp circle, no longer afraid of the fire’s sullen glow. Kar threw down his useless attempt at a torch and ran in the opposite direction.
The Chief Hunter tried to shout an order, but the whole tribe was running. The only light was that of the crescent moon. Screams of panic located humans in the night. Snarls and the horrible sound of bones snapping showed that the wolf pack pursued.
Kar was old, but terror drove him. He overtook a woman who was burdened by her infant child. None of the humans were fleeing somewhere; they were just trying to get away from where they had been.
As the Chief Fire-Maker wheezed past the woman, a huge shadow arched out of the darkness. It was one of the saber-tooths. The cat had been gorging on mammoth for several hours, so it cannot have been hungry. Perhaps the scents of blood and fear had triggered a killer instinct deeper than the mere need for food.
The tiger weighed four or five times as much as the woman. It crushed her flat, silencing the scream in her throat before she had time to utter it. The tiger bent its lower jaw back more than ninety degrees to unsheathe its long fangs. The moonlight was just bright enough to gleam on the teeth as they stabbed down in a duplicate of the blow which
Beyond the circle of firelight, the dire wolves crept closer on their bellies. They were drawn by the slurping sounds as the saber-tooths gorged on their prey.
The fire was beginning to burn low. Kar threw another branch on it. He was worried. Not very much dry wood remained, and Boartooth had been right when he said that the alders would not burn well.
Kar woke up abruptly at the sound of Wolf’s voice shouting, “. . . the fire! It’s too low!”
The campfire was a bank of red coals, shimmering angrily while the tribe sprawled around it.
Everyone had been asleep. The huge meal following days of hunger had acted like a drug on the humans, despite the predators encircling them.
Kar couldn’t believe that he had fallen asleep in the midst of this danger, but even the sound of the tigers eating had become a neutral background instead of a threat. The cats weren’t interested in human beings while the mammoth was available for food, after all.
Kar scrabbled for wood in the darkness. There had been a bundle of alders beside him. His hand found nothing. One of his assistants—Chinless should have been on watch—had thrown the whole mass on the fire and gone to sleep. The alders would not keep burning without a careful hand to stir the green stems.
Awakening hunters shouted nervously when they saw the state of the fire. An infant screamed, terrified by the atmosphere of fright.
“Chinless!” Kar ordered. “Boartooth! Get more wood!”
The Chief Fire-Maker himself snatched at partly burned saplings that stuck out from the heart of the fire. He stuffed them into the glowing center. The wood flared in a brief revival, singeing Kar’s forearm and hand. The eyes of the dire wolves gleamed around the tribe, as close as a garnet necklace to the throat of a chief.
Hunters shouted. Some of them threw spears.
“Don’t throw!” Wolf bellowed. “Stab if the wolves come close, but don’t waste your spears!”
Chinless reached for the club he had left on the ground where he had been sleeping. “There isn’t any more wood!” he said. A dire wolf rose from its crouch and clamped its huge jaws over Chinless’s elbow. The man’s voice rose into a scream.
Kar thrust his handful of alder stems into the wolf’s face. His swift motion quenched the flames on the green wood. The smoldering ends left a smear along the carnivore’s gray fur, but the wolf only growled deeper in its throat. It backed away from the camp, dragging Kar’s whimpering assistant with it.
Another dire wolf grabbed Chinless by the leg in its bone-crushing jaws. More of the pack converged on the sudden prey—but a single man was no meal for a dozen animals as big as these. Several sprang into the camp circle, no longer afraid of the fire’s sullen glow. Kar threw down his useless attempt at a torch and ran in the opposite direction.
The Chief Hunter tried to shout an order, but the whole tribe was running. The only light was that of the crescent moon. Screams of panic located humans in the night. Snarls and the horrible sound of bones snapping showed that the wolf pack pursued.
Kar was old, but terror drove him. He overtook a woman who was burdened by her infant child. None of the humans were fleeing somewhere; they were just trying to get away from where they had been.
As the Chief Fire-Maker wheezed past the woman, a huge shadow arched out of the darkness. It was one of the saber-tooths. The cat had been gorging on mammoth for several hours, so it cannot have been hungry. Perhaps the scents of blood and fear had triggered a killer instinct deeper than the mere need for food.
The tiger weighed four or five times as much as the woman. It crushed her flat, silencing the scream in her throat before she had time to utter it. The tiger bent its lower jaw back more than ninety degrees to unsheathe its long fangs. The moonlight was just bright enough to gleam on the teeth as they stabbed down in a duplicate of the blow which
Similar Books
