West of Eden

ordeal was over. They stopped then, on a slope beside a rushing stream of snowmelt where the ground was tufted with clumps of grass. They dropped, exhausted, while the mastodons squealed and tore out great clumps of grass with their trunks. Even the preserved murgu meat tasted good that night.
    The worst was past; going down the valleys proved to be far easier than climbing them had been. Very soon they were back among the trees where the mastodons gorged themselves on the green leaves. The hunters were happy. They had seen the fresh droppings of mountain goat that day and in the morning swore that there would be fresh meat. But the goats were too wary and climbed to safety, vanishing well before the hunters were within arrowshot. It was the following day, in a meadow set between the trees, that they stalked a herd of small deer, killing two before the others fled. There were not only deer to eat here, for the pine trees were a kind they had never seen before, with sweet nuts inside the pinecones. The mountains were behind them, the future bright.
    It was on the next day that the stream they were following ended in a rocky pool. There were the tracks of many animals in the mud beside it. The pool itself had no outlet. The water must run underground from this place; they had seen this happen before.
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    "This is where we will stop," Herilak said. "There is water here, grazing for the beasts, good hunting if we have read the signs right. Here is what we will do. The sammads will stay in this place and the hunters will bring in fresh meat. There are berries, roots to be dug. We will not go hungry at once. I will go on with Munan who has been here before to see what lies ahead. Kerrick will come with us."
    "We must carry water in skins," Munan said. "There is little water after this, none in the desert."
    "That is what we will do," Herilak said.
    The change began at once, as soon as the three hunters were lower in the hills. There were few trees now, the grass was dry, and there were more and more of the spiny, dangerous-looking plants. As the foothills grew flatter the grass became sparse and they walked on gravel and drifts of sand. All of the plants now were spiny and dry-looking, each spaced far from the others. The air was dry and motionless. A lizard wriggled out of sight when they approached. Nothing else moved.
    "It has been a long hard day," Herilak said. "We will stop here, one place is like any other. Is this the desert you talked of?"
    Munan nodded. "It is all very much like this. Some places with more sand, sometimes broken rock. Other than these spine-plants nothing grows. There is no water."
    "We will go on in the morning. It must have an end."
    The desert was hot and dry and despite what Herilak had said it appeared to be endless. They walked for four days, from sunrise to sunset, resting in the middle of the day when the sun was high and it was too hot to go on. At the end of the fourth day the mountains were only a gray line on the horizon behind them. Ahead the desert was unchanged. At sunset Herilak stood on a small rise, shading his eyes as he looked west.
    "The same," he said. "No hills or mountains, nothing green. Just more desert."
    Kerrick held up the water skin. "This is the last."
    "I know. We return in the morning. We have come as far as we can. Even now we will have no water for the last day's walking. We will drink well that night, when we reach the hills again."
    "What will we do then?" Kerrick asked, piling up dry twigs for their fire.
    "That must be thought about. If the hunting has been good perhaps we can stay in those hills. We will see."
    When it was dark there was a hooting of an owl, close by. Kerrick shook himself, suddenly wide awake, West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    feeling a sudden chill. It was just an owl, nothing more. They lived here in the desert, eating the lizards.
    Just an owl.
    The Yilanè could not know they were here, could not have followed them through the snows of the mountain passes. They were safe.
    Yet that night he dreamed of Alpèasak, was once again among the scurrying fargi. There was Inlènu* at the other end of the lead. He moaned in his sleep but did not wake, did not know that he lay with his fingers clamped on the iron ring about his neck.
    When Kerrick woke at dawn the dream was still with him, pressing down on him like a great weight. It was just a dream, he kept telling himself, but the feeling of disaster stayed with him as