West of Eden

permitted herself one of her rare demonstrations of good humor. "A very happiness-making plan. It is the first time that I have welcomed an ustuzou attack."
    The loading done, Stallan led the boats north. Only at the end of the day did she discover that all of the effort had been wasted. Although they did everything as planned, sailed all day north to reach the appointed beach at dusk, unloaded and prepared the trap, it was not to be sprung. In the last light of day an uruketo appeared beyond the breakers, the accompanying enteesenat sporting about it. A Yilanè waved for attention from the top of the great fin. Stallan commanded one of the night boats to take her out to it.
    When she was close the Yilanè called down to her.
    "I speak for Vaintè. She tells you to return to Alpèasak in the morning. Bring everything back. The attack is not to go ahead as planned."
    This was the last thing that Stallan expected. She moved in interrogation and dismay.
    "The reason," the Yilanè said, "is that the ustuzou are gone. They have left the beach and returned inland as fast as they can crawl. There are none left for us to destroy."
    CHAPTER THIRTY
    It was late afternoon before the raptor flew south. The great bird had killed a rabbit earlier in the day, then had flapped up to the top of a tall dead tree with its prey still kicking in its talons. Perching there, it had torn the creature apart and had eaten it. When it was done it remained, sated. The dark lump on its leg was obvious to anyone who might have looked up at it from the huddle of tents below. The raptor wiped its hooked beak clean on the bark, preened its feathers—and finally launched itself into the air. Rising in ever higher circles it turned and flew away to the south.
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    One of the boys who had been ordered to watch the bird ran at once to tell Kerrick, who shielded his eyes and looked at the sky, saw the white speck vanishing in the distance.
    "Herilak, it is gone," he called out.
    The big hunter turned from the deer's carcass that he was butchering, arms red to the elbows. "There may be others."
    "There may be, we can never be sure. But that flock of seabirds is gone and the boys say that there are no other large birds to be seen."
    "What do you think that we should do, margalus?"
    "Leave now and not wait for dark. We have all the food we need, there is nothing to be gained by staying here any longer."
    "Agreed. We go."
    Inside the tents all of their belongings had already been bundled and tied, ready for departure. As the tents came down the travois were lashed to the mastodons and quickly loaded. Everyone was eager to leave the menace of the coast for the security of the mountains. Even as the last loads were being tied into place the first protesting mastodon was trudging heavily away. The hunters looked over their shoulders as they left, but the beach was empty, as was the sky. The fires still smoked on the shore, the half-gutted deer hung from the frame. The sammads were gone.
    They walked until dark, stopped and ate cold meat, lit no fires, then went on. The march continued through the night with only brief halts to rest the animals. By dawn they were in the forested hills, distant from the route they had taken on their westward trek to the beaches. The mastodons were freed of the travois so they could graze while the weary sammads slept under the trees.
    When Armun opened her eyes the slanting beams of light through the branches showed that it was afternoon. The baby's hungry, fretting crying had woken her. She sat with her back to the bole of the tree and put him to her breast. Kerrick was no longer sleeping at her side; she saw him in the glade talking with the sammadars. His face was set and serious when he trudged back up the hill, but it lit up with a smile when he saw her there. Her smile mirrored his and she took his hand in hers when he sat next to her.
    "We are leaving soon," he said, turning away as he saw the loving smile fade from her lips; her hand clenched hard.
    "You have to do this?" she said, and it was halfway between a statement and a question.
    West of Eden - Harry Harrison
    "You know that I must. It was my plan—I cannot let the others go to the attack without me."
    "You'll be leaving me…" There was a hoarseness to her voice, all the pain of her lonely life behind her words. "You are all that I have."
    "That is not true. You have Arnwheet now and you will keep him safe until I return. I am doing