West of Eden

they had been following was joined by an even mightier one. Though it was only just past midday Herilak halted the march and asked Kerrick and the sammadars to join him.
    "This will be a good place for a camp. There is that steep trail down to the river below that can be used for watering the beasts. It will also be at our backs at night and will be easy to guard. Good grazing here for the mastodons, fuel in the woods there for our fires."
    "It is still early," Ulfadan said. "Why do we stop now?"
    "That is the reason I called you here. When we began this march we decided only that we should go south. Now we have done that. So the time has come to decide where we will make our winter camp. We West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    must now think about this."
    "We passed a large herd of the duck-billed murgu today," Kellimans said. "I would very much like to taste one."
    "My spear hand twitches," Ulfadan said, squinting into the distance across the river. "We have not hunted for many days."
    "Then I say let us stop here." Herilak looked around and the hunters nodded agreement.
    "I am thinking of the murgu-who-walk-like-men," Kerrick said. "They must never be forgotten."
    Ulfadan snorted. "We have seen none of their great birds. They cannot know that we are here."
    "We can never be sure what they know or do not know. They stalked and killed sammad Amahast and they did not have the birds then. Wherever we are, whatever we do, we must never forget them."
    "What is your thought then, margalus?" Herilak asked.
    "You are the hunters. We will stay here if that is to your liking. But there must be a guard at this spot, night and day, to watch the river in case of an attack. See how wide the river has become here? It must reach the ocean somewhere south of us. The ocean and the river can be a path for the murgu if they know that this is our camping place."
    "The margalus is correct," Herilak said. "We will take this precaution as long as we are here."
    Ulfadan was looking down the bare slope, frowning at it. "Always before we have camped among the trees. It is too open here."
    Kerrick remembered the city of Alpèasak which was also on a river, but well guarded.
    "There is a thing that the murgu do. They grow strong trees and thorn bushes to protect their camp. We cannot grow trees, but we could cut thorn bushes and pile them in a line for protection. It will keep the small beasts out—and we can kill anything large enough to break through."
    "We have never done it before," Kellimans protested.
    "We have never come this far south before," Herilak said. "We will do as the margalus tells us."
    Although they had meant to stay just a night or two at this place, many days passed and still they did not move on. There were fish in the river and the hunting was very good here, better than they had ever West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    known before. The duck-bills were so numerous that many times the far side of their herds could not be seen. They were very fast—but were also very stupid. If a group of hunters appeared suddenly they fled away. If this was done correctly the other hunters would be waiting in hiding ahead of them with spears and bows ready. Not only were the creatures fast and stupid—they also made very tasty eating.
    The hunting was rich, the mastodons grazed well, it was a good place to winter—if indeed this warm weather could be called winter. But there was no escaping the seasons; the days were short and the star groups changed steadily in the night sky. The thorn wall was thickened and, without any positive decision being made, it came about that they stayed on in this place by the union of the two rivers.
    The women were as pleased as the hunters, glad to be finished with the long trek. Walking, unloading, cooking, reloading, walking, it had been nothing but work without time enough for anything else. That was all changed for the better now with the tents firmly in place and everything spread out. There were roots to dig for, as well as a brownish-yellow tuber that they had never seen before. This proved to be deliciously sweet after it had been baked in the ashes.
    There was much to do, much to talk about. At first sammad Har-Havola had kept apart from the others for they spoke a different tongue and knew that they were strangers. But the women of all the sammads met when they were out foraging and fournd that it was possible for them to talk together after a while, for the other language was like Marbak in many ways.