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Out of the North a Giant

Introduction

This story lead-in will be more about writing than about the story. Specifically I'll address the advice that many writing teachers give their pupils: "Write from experience." At first listen that sounds like sage advice. But on reexamination it may sound idiotic, certainly for would-be science fiction writers. Actually it's some of both, but it's more sage than idiotic.

For now let's leave it at that. We'll come back to it in a minute.

The origins of stories are diverse. One day I sat down to my typewriter (remember typewriters?) to begin a new story, and from my fingers flowed an opening sentence: "There came out of the north a giant." I hadn't planned it, hadn't foreseen it. From there it proceeded the same way: a totally right-brain action.

But it tapped a fertile soil of experience that included readings in the history of Indiana, and a series of letters written to my mother-in-law, long rambling penciled letters from a man she would never meet—a boyhood friend of her dad. The first letter was dated 1906, when she was a child, the last in 1942, when the writer was a very old man. Letters that, along with much else, told what life was like, and how land was cleared, in the years following the Civil War. And before. All secondhand experience for me, but it fitted my own experience in "deadening timber"—in my case cull trees—in the 1950s. Also, by the time I wrote this story, I'd come to know, first hand and at length, the nature of wild and semi-wild land, including mountain terrain and mountain winters in Colorado.

Even so, the heart of this story is far from anything I've experienced. It is sheer imagination. But experience direct and at second hand provided a setting, and details, that help make the story real to the reader. While experience with people, experience both live and second hand, help make it poignant.

And taking it further, in writing, particularly in writing science fiction, "second-hand experience" plays an important role. I'm referring to the experience of reading. It's not surprising that almost all professional science fiction writers have read a lot, including a lot of science fiction, and typically quite a lot of science.

* * *

There come out of the north a giant. Teeth he had like knives, claws like more of em, and the breath from his mouth was like carrion in the sun. And he walked on his hind legs like a man.

That's what Vance and Purdy said. Me—I wondered. For if they'd been near enough to smell that breath, how'd they lived to tell it? For another part of their tale was, it moved as fast as a great round boulder bounding down the mountain.

I didn't year em tell it myself, or there's questions I'd of asked. Sure they must of seen something, and it weren't likely a coney nor yet a hare, nor even a bear brute; folks know a bear brute when they see one. And tigers be noisy enough with their thrumming that we know when one's about, and what's about.

Anyway, a giant wasted their camp and killed the other three men and all their horses, which was hobbled at the time. Vance and Purdy run off. And why none of the five killed it weren't part of the tale.

I weren't about to leave my claim on its account. Nor was my neighbors—Egolfs and Glum Flynn. It be agin principle to give up the farms we was making—give land back to the wilderness. Besides, it'd been fifty kilometers off north, way t'other side of Bad River and the tule glades.

A farther off neighbor had left though—Gentle Tom, who I've seen pull a stump with his arms, with only the side roots chopped off. Was Tom to rassle a bear brute, my brass would be on Tom. (No, not really. I just be making a point: Tom be moughty stout.) But his woman were flighty. Shouldn't of married her in the first place, she's that frail. Likely to die on him first time he blows her up. A throwback to the oldy times, to those among the firstfolk what died carrying child, or birthing it, or swelled up in the legs and went bad. Or got gurgly lung and coughed theirself to death.

Must of been bad days back then, even though they still had the machines they'd brought with them from old Earth, where folk was skinny in the limbs, and things was said to weigh lighter'n on Hardy's World, strange as that mought sound.

Anyways, Egolfs and Flynn and me held to our claims, but kept our guns by us in the field, and all stayed in my cabin by night, my stead being the center of the three, and my dog Brutus, the biggest and most fierce.

I set aside my axe to take a drink from my skin, for though it were fall, and cold at night, the leaves was down and the sun were bright, and I was starting a sweat. My field were too thick to see far, the tree trunks being close together for so big. I weren't like some, to take land easy to clear. I wanted the best of land, the kind that grows a thick stand of big stout hardwood trees.

I'd already ringed seven hecters, beating a girdle round each tree with my axe so's it'd die and let the sun through and the corn grow. Three more hecters and I could make good my stead claim and be wife-eligible. Then I'd go south and get wed. To Mary Lou, Bill's daughter, with legs and arms like tree trunks, a belly as big and hard as a brass still, and axe-handle wide across the hips.

Cause there'd be a lot of snags to fell over the years, and stumps to grub. Even dead trees throw too much shade for proper crops, and shelter for pounce cats looking for a lamb or a chicken. And there'd be younguns to birth and raise and learn to do.

Anyhow, I'd just hooked the water skin back on my belt and were reaching for my axe when Brutus, who'd been snoozing with one ear up, jerked up his head. I caught it out the corner of my een and turned to my rifle while grabbing up my axe. It could of been a squirrel he'd yeared, but I doubted.

For a blink or two of time he listened, then got up and trotted off like he were going somewheres. I trotted after with old "Straight Shot," my moccasins rustling soft on last moon's fallen leaves.

Up ahead, Brutus started to bark, sounding like he'd cornered a bear brute, his voice raging, and I wondered if I were about to learn the truth about the giant from the north. But then I yeared a man-voice, and knew it were some stranger what Brutus knowed not, and the feeling with it were both relief and disappointment. For a man likes a bit of excitement and adventure, even though he wants not to be laid waste by some wild beast.

Nor the stranger neither, for I yeared him holler: "For God's sake call off your hound, before I have to shoot him!"

Well that quickened my feet, and I were there in a thrice.

When I'd thought, "It's a stranger," I hadn't realized how strange; a stranger stranger never I'd seen. Looking back now, I should've known. For on Hardy's World, those what believes in God don't so use his name, while those what believe not, why, why would we use it at all?

Anyway there he was, backed between two big buttresses of a rope-bark tree, where Brutus could come at him only from the front. And he had no gun—that were a feint, purpose to speed my feet. He had not even a knife, only a club drawed up ready to strike, and not much of a club at that.

Before I thought to call, or had time, Brutus went for him, bounced back as the club come down, and then back in agin. I'd never seen him go for a man afore. The man poked at his face and Brutus closed jaws on the club, jaws that'd daunt a bear brute, and had, and he pulled. He pulled so quick, the stranger was jerked out by him and let go.

"Brutus!" I yelled. "Back!" I put all my intention in it, leaving room for neither disregard nor one last grab. Step by step he backed off, a parlous growl bubbling in his throat, till three meters lay tween them. The hair twixt Brutus's shoulders and up his neck stood in a bristly ridge. He were a sight! Weighed more'n seventy kilos, out of Big Maud, by Bull Killer, and the pick of the litter.

The stranger sagged like his bones'd went to mud, and he leaned back agin the tree. His clothes was all of one piece, from neck to ankle, and his hair was cut close like a bear dog's fur, instead of a proper bob. And he was a tall one, the tallest ever I'd seen, a meter'n three-quarters, I judged, and terrible thin, mought of been 110 kilos.

"Gentle Jesus!" the man said, "I thought I was a goner." That's the way he talked. "That your dog?"

"Right," I said. "You be lucky I were about. That be Brutus, no less, out of Bull Killer. He and his daddy pulled down a bear brute by theirself last year. Weren't hardly worth shooting when we cotched up."

"Don't tell me about it," he said, and give a shudder. He put his little hand to his forehead when he said it, and the growl out of Brutus took new life at the move. I spoke sharp, and the beast flattened on his belly, embarrassed.

"Who be ye?" I asked, "and what's yer business?" saying it bresk, there being that about him I didn't trust.

"I came to warn you," he said. "There are a dozen yorash north of here, a dozen crazy yorash that hijacked my ship. If nothing's done about . . ."

I frowned and raised my hand, and his gob shut in mid-word, cause it were the hand what held the axe, and it afeared him.

"Wait," I said. "First your name, like a right man."

"Fermin the ver . . . ah, Fermin Jones," he said. A man with summat to hide, I thought, but his eyes wasn't evil, just shifty.

"Fermin Jones, I be Big Jack the wrestler, Sean's son."

"Big Jack," he said after me. I seen the name surprised him, I being near a head shorter than him. But he made no sneer, for without Brutus, gun, or axe, I still had twenty or more kilos on him, and doubt not I could squash his head with one hand.

"Next," I said, "what's a yorash?"

"A yorash stands about this tall," he said, reaching an arm's length overhead to show me, then froze like that, for Brutus's growled swelled up in his throat agin. I had to go to the brute and raise my hand to him, which shut him off. Then I put down my axe, patted his head, and scratched round his ears, and slightly his tail-end tapped the leaves. But his een left not the stranger.

"So they be tall—two meters or better," I said. "What else?"

"Closer to three meters," he answered, "teeth twice as big as Brutus's, and a claw like a cargo hook in each wrist. And totally carnivorous. Meat-eaters, that is. And sapient—intelligent, more or less—not dumb animals. They build huts, form clans and tribes, and make war. What it comes down to is, they do three things: they hunt, have lots of young, and kill each other.

"They're so bad, their planet is quarantined—off limits. No one's supposed to go there. If the yorash get established here, you people are in deep trouble. There are females in this bunch. They'll be dropping pups, by the litter, and they grow to maturity in two years. Instead of a dozen, you people could have half a hundred ravenous monsters in your backyard in a few years. And with humans to fight, they probably won't fight one another much, especially since these are all from one clan.

"How come they here?" I asked.

"Um. Well—first of all, uh, I'm an undercover agent for the galactic patrol. And I . . ."

"What be that?" I asked. "An undercover something for something."

"A constable. You understand constable? Marshal?" He seen I didn't. "A lawman," he said. I nodded. "And I went to Threllkild's World because—it's a terrible thing to even think about, but the story was that someone had been capturing yorash and taking them off planet to exhibit in zoos on some out-league planets!

"So I went there to look around and ask questions. And the next thing I knew, a dozen yorash had grabbed me and taken over my ship. And made me bring them to the nearest world where they could live and that was fairly wild. They planned to kill me, once they got here, but I tricked them and escaped. I'd seen farms over this way before I landed, so I hurried south to warn you."

I understood not all he said, but enough to get the gist of it. Likely it weren't all true anyway, but I knew now what the giant were, and that there was a dozen of em up there. I tried to catch those slippery een but they slid away.

"What smell have they?" I asked.

"Ugh!" said he. "Like a straddle trench on Sorrel's World. Bad. They've got musk glands."

"And hunt as a pack, these yorash?"

"Pretty much. But when they're looking for herds, they scatter or send out scouts."

"Well then, I yeared of em. One of em jumped some trappers over north."

"Um. Did they kill him?"

I shook my head. "The opposite; he killed three of them, and their horse beasts. Two got away and brought the tale."

"You mean—one of them attacked five of you? Killed three and ran off the other two?" He looked shook by that. "Did they have dogs? Your people?"

"Nay. They was fur trappers. They'd not have dogs with them."

"Hm-m. Dogs would be helpful, dogs like yours." He pursed his lips. "And the yorash know there are humans here. They're likely to move on you. When was it they killed your people?"

"Three days past. No, four. Vance and Purdy, that got away, come through the next day—hit some farmsteads over south and spread the tale. Then Gentle Tom, what lives there, come by and told us what he'd yeared."

Then a thought come to me. "When were it you run off from them?"

His eyes drifted off and he began to tally on his little fingers. "Five days," he said.

"What took you so long?"

"I traveled mostly by night; it was too cold to sleep except after the sun was up. And I moved slowly; in your gravity I must weigh a hundred and twenty kilos." He seen I understood not. "My body weighs about half again as much here as I'm used to. Slows me down and tires me out.

"And without the sun to guide me, I followed creeks, assuming they led south more or less. I knew the mountains were to the north. But the creeks curved around a lot, and I had to detour around sloughs and marshes."

Then his voice went doleful. "You got something I can eat?"

I should of realized. The man had no weapon and no skill; he'd not of eaten on the trail, except happen some berries or such. I called Brutus to heel and we went to my cabin, where I fed the man.

Not all to once. First some dried apples, their blue skins all puckered but the flesh sweet. And after a little bit, spuds. Later yon some sardo bread with syrup, and later still a cold roast dove.

Atween, we talked. He'd crossed Bad River the night afore, and near perished with cold. Lucky he were that the season been dry and river low. Then the sun come up, and he'd kept walking to dry off and get warm, until he yeared my axe.

After he ate the dove, he dozed, and I let him be awhile. At length I roused him, which were not easy, called Brutus to me, and we started off for Glum Flynn's field. In a few words I told the tale to Flynn. Then we found Egolfs and went off south to round up more men. It weren't likely to be no frolic getting rid of them yorash.

'twere a glad surprise to find Gentle Tom back, a giant of a man only half a head shorter than Fermin, and surely a hundred and eighty kilos. He'd gave his wife back to her daddy as not fitty for a border farm.

He said he'd come along, grabbed his gun and whistled in Bull Killer. Then, with Fermin gnawing on a heel of sardo, we went about and gathered up eight of Tom's neighbors, this tract being well settled and not just outliers like Egolfs and Flynn and me. They even had cattle now.

Fermin told about the yorash agin, giants indeed, tween two and half, three meters. Lank, said he, but fierce strong, could tear a man in pieces.

Maybe you, I thought, but I weren't so sure about me.

And they had short fur, but their land ben't never cold, only maybe a little chilled sometimes when it rained. They hadn't no weapons but clubs, what they throwed with dead aim. What they used best was their fangs, and two big wrist claws to pull things in close where they could fang em.

After that we all set and parleyed over whether to go on south and gather more men. That's what Fermin counseled, but after he'd ate some more he fell to sleep, and when he woke up it were already decided. Next morning early, Buster, Marty's son, would take the women on the horse beasts and drive the cattle over the Piney Hills trail to Sweet Grass Valley. We'd send the dogs with em, all but Bull Killer and Brutus, to protect em, case of varmints or maybe some scout of the giants were about.

Once over to the Valley, Buster were to gather whatever men were willing and able, and leave within a day or two. They could follow our trace.

I were the leader, that being my nature. And I deemed we'd do better, us twelve, than a mob, in killing yorash. There'd be less mixup. But if the yorash was to scatter, we'd need more men to trail em; the trackers ought to be by threes, naught less, which could take a slew of men. Fermin weren't too happy bout this plan. One yorash had beat five men and killed three of em, and we was going out about even. But the giant took em unawares; they hadn't knowed what it was or how bad. And they hadn't no dogs. All that was different now.

So bout daybreak, eleven good men, plus Fermin, Bull Killer and Brutus, set off on a nice easy trot, traveling light, each man carrying a sleeping robe of water hare pelts, a belt pouch of dried meat, one of dried berries, and another of cartridges. Plus a belt axe and skinning knife.

Not to despise Fermin, but he were no man for Hardy's World. We even took a horse beast for him so he wouldn't slow us. Even though it mought well be the death of a good beast, from what we yeared of the yorash.

First thing we had to do was find the giants. And Fermin couldn't show us the way cause he didn't know how, even was they still there. So what we'd do was follow the trace of Vance and Purdy's folk, which was less than a quarter-moon old, about eight, nine days. That weren't likely to be hard, cause they'd no doubt followed the old trail through the glades, it hadn't rained since, and they'd had horse beasts, shod at that, which left plain tracks.

We waded the Bad River at Sandy Ford, the water colder'n a fur trader's heart, holding our gear up overhead, then warmed ourself agin by running on the trail.

We kept trotting and sweating, chewing a little dried meat now and then, and happen a few berries. Fermin got saddle sore. He complained not, but I could tell by the way he sat and the pained look on his face. Weren't made for Hardy's World, all right. Watching him, I better understood what the firstfolk had borne with, especially after he told me he were pretty husky and strong for an Earthman.

After a while we got into the tule glades, where the scape be half open with marshes and wet meadows and laced through with slow little creeks. Sloughs be here and there, and little ponds and pools, with timber atween and on islands humped out of the marshes. The fur trail was blazed and easy followed, winding about to keep to drier ground as much as mought be.

It be known as fine fur country, with hundreds of colonies of water hare and beaver, their reed mounds standing on the edges of the deeper creeks and pools, and many water cat and otter to hunt em. Vance and Purdy's folk would have made their camp just t'north of the glades, where the land starts sloping up to the Icy Mountains. From there they could range along the whole length of the glades without miring their horse beasts, then drop the reins and go into the wetlands afoot to set and tend traps. It be a nice way to spend the trapper's moon—that season when the nights be frosty and critters' coats thick and prime but the country ben't froze up hard yet.

"Fermin," I said, "you told 'tweren't never cold where the yorash come from. Know they to make fire?"

"I don't think so. It would say so in our compu—we'd know about it if they did. And it does say they eat their meat raw. Really they're animals, not men. But they can reason—figure things out."

"How come they to take over your spaceship?"

"Uh, well," he said, "they, uh, they knew about spaceships—knew they came from other planets, that is. I'm not sure who told them; maybe it was an oral tradition—word of mouth passed down from the time of the old study team. Anyway, I was questioning some of them when they jumped me and told me to take them to another planet."

I could smell that he lied. "So you know their language then," I said.

"Uh, yeah. Well, not a whole lot, but I can get by with it. More or less. There's different dialects."

"Good," I said, "you can talk to em for us."

I'd just finished saying it when there were the boom of a rifle, and Bobby, Bass's son, fell backward in the trail. It took us total by surprise. There weren't no cover where we was, so we all hit the dirt. Fermin was off his horse so quick! I hadn't thought he were so nimble. The shot hadn't come from far—a patch of trees some sixty meters off.

"Spread out!" I snapped. "Al, Barney, you and me'll watch careful up ahead and shoot anything what moves. The rest of you keep low and move out to the sides."

"Who do you think it is?" asked Tom.

"It's got to be a giant," I said. "No man around here'd do that. Must of got a gun from Fermin's ship."

I saw a movement then, a gun barl and part of an arm from behind a tree, and two of us shot the same time. Splinters tore from the side of the trunk and there was a yowl. Brutus started for it then; I called him to heel, and Tom heeled Bull Killer, not to waste them.

Guns ready, we hadn't no more than got up when there was another shot, from heavy timber across a pool to the west, and Fermin grunted and went down. None of us seen the gunner, but we all shot in that direction to put him to cover.

"Flynn," I yelled, "you and Egolfs with me! Barney and Al, look to the wounded. T'others get the one what shot last." Then I run toward the first ambusher, reloading as I went, Brutus trotting alongside. "Flank the giant," I said to Egolfs and Flynn, and they angled off. When I was close, it stepped out from back of the tree, its gun raised, and Brutus charged. I went to snap off a shot, and for the first time ever, old Straight Shot misfired. The giant shot an instant afore Egolfs, and Brutus went down.

Egolfs's bullet knocked it back a step, which is all the reason Flynn missed. I dropped Straight Shot and drew my axe as the critter charged me, its good arm cocked to strike with its hook-claw. I went for it, and the arm started its blow. My belt axe took it just below the elbow, and we crashed together and went down. I had just time to get a forearm under its jaw to hold them big yeller teeth away while I tried for my knife with t'other hand. I felt and yeared the thud as Egolfs clubbed its head with his rifle barl, and the big body went slack.

"You all right?" Egolfs asked.

"I think so," I said. The critter stunk, all right. I crawled out from under and looked off to the west, where the other giant had been. I yeared a shot, and then another, but I couldn't see naught.

"Fermin never said they had guns," Flynn complained.

I went to Brutus and knelt, but the life was gone out of him. I give his ears one last rub. There were another shot then, but still I couldn't see naught, so went back to Bobby and Fermin.

Bobby laid dead where he'd fell, took through the heart by the first shot. I didn't know whether the giant were a natural good marksman or just lucky.

Fermin were lungshot, the air breathing in and out through the blue hole in his chest. His skin had a blueness too. Barney come up with two pads of moss he'd rinsed the dirt off of, and laid them on the bullet hole, front and back. Then, while he held them in place, I cut a strip offen Bobby's shirt and tied them on.

We yeared two more shots farther off in the woods, and I got fidgety, wondering. We'd lost one good man and one of our two dogs already.

Plus Fermin wounded bad. But he were wide awake and seemed in no pain. He was talking calm, though not very loud.

"I don't suppose you've got a cigarette," he said.

"Cigarette?"

"Never mind. I've got some confessions to get off my mind before I die, Jack."

I nodded.

"First, I'm no lawman; I'm a poacher and smuggler. A poacher is someone who goes around to different worlds and takes animals he's not supposed to, and takes them somewhere where he can sell them for good money.

"I went to a place called Threllkild's World and captured twelve yorash. They didn't hijack me and I can't talk to them. I just landed, ran up my commast, turned on the force shield, and waited for a pack of yorash to show up and investigate."

I followed only part of what he were telling me—there was words new to me—but I interrupted not. He were too bad hurt, and I wanted to let him get it all out. I'd ask questions later, if there was a later.

"The commast stood up above the shield," he said, "and when, after awhile, a pack appeared, I let go with a sound bomb that knocked them out. I went out and shot them all with knockout shots, and used the cargo handler—a machine—to load them into a cargo module that was modified to haul animals."

He were sagging some now, his voice weaker.

"Then I took off, but before I'd gotten far—maybe ten or twelve parsecs—I developed abnormal feedback in my drive and knew I had to set down somewhere fairly soon. I checked the computer for the nearest system with human inhabitants—here—and came out of hyperdrive.

"I didn't dare use landing mode—I couldn't trust the drive for that—and just came in on a flat angle into a marsh at about a hundred kilometers an hour.

"When the water and mud had run off the glass and I'd gotten my breath back from restrainer shock, I didn't have power of any sort, not even electric. I made a quick check, and it wasn't any of the simple-to-fix things, and I'm no engineer. But I did know that the locks on the cargo modules were electric and would have deactivated. All that was keeping them closed was residual magnetism in the seals. Which wouldn't last long. In maybe a day or an hour, a heavy push or kick would open them, and there'd be a pack of mad yorash running loose."

He chuckled a little then, but not like 'twere funny.

"Now, I told you some lies before, but not all lies. Threllkild's World is quarantined, and the reason is that the yorash are considered a pathologically dangerous combination of intelligence and sheer murderousness. So the next thing I needed was a laser rifle and sidearms. But would you believe! The goddamn lock on the weapons locker opens with a command from the console! And it was dead! No electricity!

"Can you imagine? The next ship I buy won't have a crazy damn lock like that, I'll guarantee you."

He seen then the unlikeliness of any next ship for him, and begin laughing, which started him to cough. I thought the coughing mought finish him right then, but if his body were weak, he weren't. When he'd quit coughing and spitting blood, he smiled weak at me, his face sweaty now. His voice weren't hardly a whisper when he started talking again.

"You guys are good people," he said. "I'm sorry I brought down trouble on you. But I brought you more than trouble. I brought four dinotheres from Prinz's World, a heavy-gravity water-oxygen planet like this one. Big animals, furry, with a nose like a long arm or a thick snake. Bought them legal, too! They're tame—domestic. Used for . . . carrying and pulling. Yours. I give them to you."

He began to cough again, strangling, and when it passed, he just laid there with his eyes shut, saying naught. I felt bad about him; I finally found out I liked him. After a minute he coughed some more, and I took his hand and give it a little squeeze. He went to choking and strangling, and turned on his side to throw up, but died afore he hardly got started.

I stood up and saw Whitey and Al coming with a stretcher. They was shirtless; their shirts was part of the stretcher. Two others was walking with em: Flatnose Mike with his rifle slung and one arm tied agin his body, and Gentle Tom with his gun ready and another across his back, watching behind em looking grim. I seen naught of Bull Killer, and from Tom's face, I wouldn't.

It was Kootch in the stretcher. "Where's Charley?" I asked.

"Dead," said Tom. "We'll have to go back for him."

"And the giant?"

He shook his head, his face even grimmer. So the giant had got away, with his rifle. I knowed now where the giants had got em. The rifle we'd took from the killed yorash was engraved "Wilfred Sykes," the make we all carried. So they'd got the weapons of the three killed trappers, and was lucky enough and smart enough to find out what they done and how to use em.

Al and Whitey'd put down the stretcher and I knelt by it. Kootch's eyes was shut and there weren't no pulse. He was shot in the chest. I lifted an eyelid.

"Dead," I said. Tom nodded.

So we'd lost three fighting men plus Fermin, and another out of action. And the giants lost but one, unless the one what run off was bad wounded. Them having guns and us not knowing it had made the difference.

"You're one gun short," I said to Tom. "Where be t'other one?"

"Charley's? Out there with him."

"Get it!" I said. "We don't want the giants to get it. They got two now."

He nodded and started off. "Barney, Al," I said, "take the stretcher and go with him. Whitey, go with em and give em cover."

Now we knew; they'd not surprise us like that agin. But what was next for us to do? We could wait for more men. But if twenty or thirty more showed up, the yorash might run off and we'd have naught but trouble finding them all. And they had only two guns we knowed of, while every one of us was armed.

While we waited, I had a good look at the dead giant. It were a he-brute, maybe two and a half meters tall, with arms as long as my whole body. Hands was shaped like a man's, but long for their width. On each wrist were a big claw shaped like a hook but summat sharp on the inside. The teeth was like a bear brute's, except the corner teeth was longer.

And they was armed, and man-smart, and mean. Naught we wanted for neighbors.

When we was all together agin I had our dead put in half a meter of water and weighed em down with a waterlogged length of tree trunk. They'd keep till we come back for em, cold as it were.

Then we went on ahead, alert, ready to start shooting or hit the ground. We'd not need to find the yorash, I thought; they'd come to us. Mought be they'd lay in ambush and rush us from close quarters, so we kept knives and axes unstrapped in their sheaths—we'd each fire once and draw blades.

Were Fermin right, they'd started with twelve, and ought to be eleven now while we was eight. Seven able-bodied. But we was seven riflemen while they was two. I hoped.

But naught of us questioned should we be doing this, for these be deadly savage critters, to be cleaned out afore they multiplied.

As much as we could, we kept to the open. Tom rode the horse beast now—'twere his—and from its height he could better spy anything laying in wait in the dead and brittle grass ahead. Course, he were also the best target up there. It were only a short time afore we seen two platforms made of saplings and branches, lashed in trees ahead, well up towards the tops, and it seemed like they must of been built by yorash. I never yeared of people doing ought like that.

The two trees was opengrown and branchy; easy to climb. So we went to em, and with a boost from Tom, I started up one of em. Several croakers—carrion birds—flapped their brown wings and flew up from the platform.

There were carrion there, I knowed by the smell. But what I found were a surprise for sure—a dead giant. A she giant, bloated some but still too firm for the croakers to open up yet. I could easy tell what it were killed her, for the claw and teeth marks were of bear brute.

I looked over to Whitey, who were climbing t'other tree twenty meters off, and waited till he got to the platform. He waved his hand in front of him as if trying to fan stink away, and made a terrible face.

"What be it?" I called.

"A dead giant," he answered. "Gutshot. I reckon he be the one what killed the trappers, and one of em got him afore it were over."

So there was nine of em instead of eleven.

"This one here's killed by a bear brute," I said. "She's laid out with hands over her chest. Happen the giants be religious and put their dead in treetops for their gods to find."

"This'n be the same," said Whitey. "I bet they'd not like our being up here like this."

That, I thought, they wouldn't, and clumb down. Now they seemed more to me like deadly enemy men instead of savage beasts, but I could see no other end except to kill em all. I wished Fermin had let em be on their own world.

But here they was, and just now I needed to get their attention. So on the ground agin, I struck flint on steel with my fire striker, catching the sparks in a wad of dry grass, and lit off the grass at the base of my tree, while Whitey done the same by his. It begin to burn slow, the breeze pushing it north. We all backed off south some thirty meters and lit a whole line of em across the tongue of dry ground from the marsh on one side to that on t'other. White smoke rose up; the yorash was sure to see it.

The fire were burning the dead grass off the whole width of the tongue.

As soon as we could, Whitey and me went back through the thin ashes to the trees. With rifles slung, we clumb agin into the bare branches, where we could see and be seen a good distance.

'tweren't long afore we could see yorash coming on a good trot, out of the timber some two hundred meters north. Nine of em, all right. There were shallow standing water twixt us and them, where the fire would stop and burn itself out, maybe a hundred meters ahead. They come on, stopping far enough back that they was out of the heavy smoke. One raised his rifle, and I thought, here's where we learn how well they really shoot. Till then their shooting had been at fifty, sixty meters range; at a hundred fifty it'd be harder. They wasn't experienced, and probably didn't even know to allow for range and trajectory, I yeared a bullet click against branches, followed by the boom of the rifle what sent it. There were another boom. I yeared naught of the second bullet; it were probably aimed at Whitey.

"Don't shoot back," I called to him. "Let em come closer. Wait till I shoot."

The fire had reached the little stretch of water and was burning itself out now. After a minute or two the yorash come on toward us, two with guns, the rest with axes or clubs. At a hundred meters they stopped at the water. The two with guns aimed agin, and I got as much behind the trunk as I could, although it weren't very big around up where I were.

Whitey looked at me, but I called "not yet." It were risky, but I wanted em closer, where we could really waste em. They fired and naught happened. Then I started chopping at the vines what held the platform, and Whitey seen and did the same.

They shot agin, and bout that time the platform partly fell away and dumped the giant body off. It fell, sliding and bumping off lower branches to the ground.

We could year em yell then, and like a small mob, all nine come running at us, splashing through the shallow water and then the ashes. We drew up, and at about sixty yards let fly. I shot one of their riflemen down and Whitey the other. The others come on, and from the grass behind us come a whole little volley, and four more went down. Of the six down, four got up agin and all turned tail.

I'd already thumbed in another cartridge, and fired agin at a rifleman what'd got back up. This time he stayed down. Others was shooting agin too, and my but them big critters run fast! Took a lot of killing, too, but even so, only four of em made it into the timber.

Five of their people lay out there on the ground, but I were disgusted to see that both rifles got carried off. Near as I could tell, of the four what got away, at least two was wounded.

And none of us had got touched this time. So we'd won this battle, and I couldn't see how they could win the war after this one. Unless we just quit and let em go off somewhere and breed.

We went around then and made sure the ones laying out there was dead.

Still, I weren't feeling all as good as I mought. Dumping that body out of the tree was what set em off and let us kill that many, but it weren't the kind of thing that sets well with me. 'twere like messing with somebody's grave.

It were late afternoon now. We went on to the timber and in amongst the trees, carrying our rifles ready, hammers back. Spite of all, we were took by surprise. Not by gunfire this time; two giants jumped out at us from back of a big windfall, right in close. Over its fallen trunk they come, and one went down at once with two balls in her chest and one in her face. T'other swung his war club, though shot in the neck, and down went Whitey. I give him another shot that went in under the arm, but he swung agin and down went Al. There was a couple of more booms and down went the giant, dead as can be.

Both of em had dried blood on em; they'd been wounded earlier.

And that left just two. The most dangerous of the pack, cause they was the survivor type and had guns as well. I wondered were one of em female. A mated pair or a pregnant female was most dangerous. If they lost theirself in the far outback . . . .

Whitey were dead, his skull crushed like a bird's egg. Al's arm were broke and so was some ribs on that side. I knowed now why the body in the tree weren't mauled and tore up worse than it were by the bear brute. These were powerful critters and hard to kill. I be willing to bet that there be a dead bear out there somewheres, killed by a yorash; a she-yorash at that.

And now we was just seven left, out of twelve, two of us stove up. It were time to council again. And not there in the timber; get to talking and we mought get slipped up on and jumped. So I give the word and we went back to the opening, picking up dry wood along the way, and built us a fire back far enough, we couldn't smell the yorash what we dumped off the platforms.

The sun were low now, and the air taking a chill to it. The sky were clear—no threat to rain—so we decided to make camp right there in the open. We gathered more wood, to keep fire up, and then more still cause I decided to make point fires a little ways out, to light things up for the watchguards. We worked at a trot, so we'd be out of the woods afore dusk.

It'd been a long day. We'd started at dawn, covered bout fifty kilometers, lost five dead and two busted up, and killed eight giants. Wouldn't none of us be the same agin.

The two giants left would do one of two things: come after us when it were dark, or run off. If they was both he-brutes, or shes what weren't pregnant, they'd probably attack; there weren't no more hope for em on Hardy's World, with no chance for young-uns. But if they was a mated pair or one was pregnant, seemed to me they'd run off—try to start a new tribe, far from any humans.

We all agreed on that.

"Tell you what I think," said Tom. "If'n they don't come at us tonight, I say we waits till more folk come, with dogs. Then we tracks down the last two giants and kills em, and that's that."

I didn't like it, but afore I could speak, Hard Egolfs, who usually says little, spoke his mind and mine. "Too dangerous to wait," he said. "Could be three or four days afore more folk comes up. The giants could be clear out of the territory by then, into the wild back. And it could rain and wash out their spoor so no dog could track em. It could even come an early snow. I say we goes after em, come day light."

But Tom stood his ground. "There's two of em, each with a rifle. They could shoot and run, shoot and run, keeping always to cover. I say we waits for more folk and for dogs."

"All right," says Egolfs, "then let all what's too flighty stay behind, and all what's got guts go after the giants come sunup."

I didn't want my two best men in a fight that might leave one or both out of action, so I stepped in with an edge to my voice.

"Ben't no question of frighty," I said to Egolfs. "No man here showed yeller today." Then I turned to Tom. "Egolfs is right about the danger of waiting. But we can't go hunting giants with two cripples along. So Tom, I wants you to start back with the wounded—you and Flynn and Barney—first thing in the morning. Or stay here if anyone gets hurting too bad to travel. The wounded ride the horse beast. Egolfs and me will track the giants."

"Too dangerous," said Tom. "They can jump you. And then, with you dead, they can follow and waylay us somewhere. We all got to stay."

"You're part right," I told him. "They could ambush us. We'll all stay long enough to build you a couple of lean-tos here in the open, or get em started anyway. Then you can stay here and wait, while the able-bodied takes turn about, watching. We'll stack up a good pile of firewood for night fires. But that's as far as I'll put off following the giants.

"Egolfs and me will stay on their spoor and leave a good trace ourself—blaze trees, break twigs. When help comes up, they can easy follow us, rain or no.

"Send along half a dozen good men and dogs. That's all it'll take. Two or three ought to be enough, but half a dozen makes it sure."

Flat-nosed Mike grunted something like a laugh. "That's if the giants don't come busting in here tonight. It's getting dark."

"Right," I said. "Mike, you hurting too much to sleep?"

"I'll probably sleep afore morning."

"All right, you take first night watch with Tom. One watch off north and east; you, Mike. Tom watches south and west. You'll have the watch till the Fish stands on his tail in the south sky, then wake up Flynn and Barney. The moon be in the last quarter, so Egolfs and me takes the watch when it rises."

There weren't no more argument. We lit the fires, chewed more dried meat and fruit, and rolled up in our sleeping robes. Regardless of any danger, I doubt any but the hurt had trouble sleeping. Like I said, it were a long day.

* * *

On our watch, long toward morning, a tiger thrummed maybe two, two and a half kilometers off north at the edge of yearing. A little bit later we yeared a far off shot from the same direction. They was on their way out of the territory, all right. Well, we'd catch em. Most critters could outrun a man easy on the short run. But weren't hardly nothing could keep our pace on the long run—sixty, eighty, a hundred kilometers.

Meanwhile, what were going through their minds out there? Were they frighty, big and fierce as they were? One thing I were sure of: they wanted to live, and they wanted their kind to live, same as us.

* * *

Not long after, the dawnlight come. The dark kind of thinned a little over east, then silvered behind the treetops off across the marsh. Pale yellow come behind it, and by then the night had paled to the top of the sky. In the west, most of the stars was shining yet, but in the east only the bigger ones, like silver specks. I seen Egolfs stand up, stiff and silent in the cold dawn. He weren't an easy man to know; we'd been neighbors and strangers for near two years. But now I felt a tie with him, a likeness of feeling, a friendship, and I knowed he felt the same. Even though he weren't like to say anything bout it.

I stood up too, and paced the chill out of my legs, putting a stick or two fresh on each point fire. Not that the point fires was needed now, for already I could see five times farther than an hour afore.

On the center fire I laid several more stout pieces, for 'twere the coldest hour, and them sleeping lay like wheel spokes, "with their feet to the heat," as the saying goes.

When the last stars were fading in the west, I waked up Tom to come along and cover us, and Mike to watch camp. I told em of the gunshot Egolfs and me'd yeared, but beyond that it were no time of day to talk much.

Egolfs and me took belt axes, leaving rifles in camp, and trotted off for the timber. The grass was crisp and white with frost, and where water stood shallow, 'twere skinned with ice. We cut a slew of saplings and young poles for building lean-tos. When these was dragged up, we felled a few dry snags of shingle ash, long and slim, crowded to death by stouter kin, and dragged em in for firewood.

I wondered if, far off in Sweet Grass Valley, men was gathering now to start off with dogs and guns. A two-day march 'twould be for them, and the sooner begun, the better.

The sun weren't far up when Egolfs and me rolled up our sleeping robes, filled our provision pouches from them of the dead, took rifles in hand, and said goodbye to our trail mates.

Trailing went slow at first, though helped by having yeared the gunshot and knowing they went north. From tracks in soft ground, one of the giants was considerable smaller than t'other—a she or a youngun, and I was willing to bet a she. After an hour or so we seen where they scraped up lots of dead leaves and stuffed em in the hole under a root-tipped bur-nut tree, to sleep warm. Weren't thirty meters from it we found the dead tiger, laying yellow and spotted like dappled sunshine. Shot in the face, from so close it were powder burned. A haunch were hacked off, so they had a belt axe with em, or maybe two.

Not long after, tracking got easier, cause they'd hit a pretty good river, some fifteen meters wide and too deep to see bottom. Seemed like they wanted not to cross it; water too cold I guessed. So we picked up our pace to a trot, taking turns, one watching for sign, t'other for the giants theirself and leaving sign of our own. Snap a brush here, blaze a tree there. Sign weren't hard to find, cause the ground were soft in lots of places. And we didn't worry too quick if we saw none, cause they just followed the river anyway.

Finally we come to a grassy valley at the foot of the first foothill ridge of the Big Icy Mountains. Here we come to where two branches had joined to make our river, the righthand branch the smallest, and the giants had crossed. It looked shallow enough, so I crossed too, holding my gear overhead, with Egolfs ready to cover me with rifle fire.

On t'other side, the stones was dry where the giants come out, though shaded by a bush, so they was probably an hour or more ahead.

Their spoor led up the ridge, through woods, and tracking went good cause there was good leaf cover, leaving scuff marks from their feet. They'd went right over the top and down t'other side, where there were a ribbon of grassy meadow in the draw. I walked out of the timber just in time to meet a she bear coming out across from me. If it weren't for the cub with her, we mought of bypassed each other. She raised up to peer at me—maybe never seen a man before—and I stood still as could be till she dropped down and charged. I fired point blank, and from behind me Egolfs's rifle banged in my ear. She went down skidding, stopping bout five meters short.

I just stood there then, scowling at the dead sow while the cub run off. The giants likely yeared the gunfire; they'd know we was following em.

Anyway we rallied and went on. The tracks went up the little dry creek there; the meadow ended and we was in timber agin. We kept our een open to not be took by surprise, but I really thought they'd not try to waylay us. Their best hope was to escape, to lose us, and they knew not—I hoped they knew not—that there be just two of us. And they was longlegged and wild-living; they ought to feel sure of their ability to travel far and fast.

It mought come down to who give out first. I was sure it'd never be Egolfs and me. And if they played out, then they mought try for us.

We kept going all day, breaking a little every hour or two to lay on a high point while we chewed dried meat and dried berries. Once we got into the worst ravine I ever thought to see, full of down timber. I hated like poison to go in there. Good thinking by the giants it were; they could step over trunks we had to belly over, and belly over trunks we had to either pick our way around or find a place to crawl under. When we come out of there without being ambushed, I were pretty sure they was only trying to get away.

I wished we could let em, but it'd never do. Were it just one, and a known male, we mought of let be, but it weren't.

By midday we'd got much higher, up into pine woods, and by sundown was above the pure pine, to where larch and spruce was mixed with it. I'd never seen larch nor spruce afore, but I'd yeared of em enough to know when I seen em. The larch was bare now, their slim needles a fiery red carpet round their feet.

We camped cold and dry that evening on a poor stony ridge top and a hundred meters off their trail, where they couldn't hardly find us in the dark if they come looking. Unless they could follow a scent. And I wouldn't hardly expect something with its face two and a half meters from the ground to have that good a sniffer. Even so we each took a turn watching for the first few hours, which was the likeliest time for them to come hunting us. After that we just laid there, with no fire, the cold wind blowing through the skimpy trees, and both slept the best we could. We needed the rest.

Water hare robes be the warmest you're like to find, short of something bulky and heavy, but that night were well below freezing. Part of the night I laid awake from cold, and part of it asleep, and it seemed a lot of the time I were about half and half. I remember wondering how the giants was faring, having naught but short fuzzy fur, and them from a place where 'twere always summer. And up here in the high ridges there weren't even lots of leaves to rake up for bedding.

Come light enough to track by and we was on our way. The yorash probably started an hour earlier, or maybe more, to gain time on us, which were exasperating, but we made good speed a lot of the time, trotting, cause on slopes, needles slide underfoot and leave clear marks.

I got to worrying about meat, ours getting low. Covering ground like we was, we kept eating away on it. So when we come out in a meadow and seen a doe deer, I up and shot her, the sound of the gun echoing through the ridges round about. This surprised Egolfs, but I told him to shoot too, so he shot into the air. By that time I'd reloaded and did the same, and he took the meaning of it and quick shot agin, and me right after.

That made five shots in the space of a few breaths. Now we not only had fresh meat, but if the giants were in yearing, which I doubted not, we sounded like a whole party after em. They'd be less likely to ambush us now, or so I figured, and I'd a lot rather come on em from behind.

We quick carved plenty of good red meat into strips and draped em over our belts, enough to last three, four days. The whole thing took less than five minutes, and we was on our way agin.

That were the only thing happened all day, till late. They kept going higher and higher, like they wanted to put the Big Icies tween them and where they'd been. As if they knowed there be no men on the north side at all. In places, now, the tracking were slow, where the ground were gravelly and not much needles, or the cover mostly short bunch grass. Up and down we went, more up than down, till the only trees left were spruce, and them getting shorter and less close together. We tired easier and walked slower, and hardly run at all. The air were not just colder; it were hard to breathe. Like it were thinner.

We could look off up the big ravines and see where they come out of great coves above. The coves was like stone bowls, hundreds of meters deep and open on the downslope side, with patches and even fields of snow on their shadowed walls. But mostly they was dark gray rock, and patches of rusty red where something growed, with little white streams like far-off ribbons running and falling out of em.

They looked beautiful, and cruel, and deadly cold. I begin to feel like the chase weren't far from over. For the giants was naked and without fire, and from everlasting summer.

Finally we was following along a ridgetop where the ravine below clumb steep to the cove above. Much of the ground were open, and where there were timber, the spruces was stubby and stout. I almost missed where their tracks took off angling toward the creek that clattered below down rock stairs.

We passed through a belt of trees on the lower slope, but the bottom were meadow, with here and there an old spruce or two, bout half of em dead and bleached silvery gray. I went to cross the creek on a blowdown when there come a shot from the timber on the ridge in front of us. I felt it the same time I yeared the sound. I'd just bent to steady myself when the bullet hit the rolled up sleeping robe slung over my back. I jumped back and off just when another bullet smacked into the log.

Egolfs had already took cover behind another blowdown, and I hopped over it beside him. We looked up into the timber but saw naught but trees.

"Egolfs," I said, "they ben't just sniping. One of em be up there trying to hold us down while t'other's somewheres about looking to flank us. They been watching for us and know we be just two."

He nodded.

"So let's break for the timber behind us. Then they'll have to cross the creek theirself to get at us."

"All right."

"Both to once," I said, "you that way and me this. Go!"

We broke for it, running crouched. There was one boom and right quick another, and then we was in the cover of the timber on our side of the ravine, puffing. As I knelt behind a fat spruce, ready to fire at any sight of em, I yeared a giant call in a strange hollowy voice different from the yells we'd yeared afore. And they was words he called, strange words.

But they never give us a glimpse, and after we knelt there awhile it started to get dark. We couldn't tell if they was still in the timber opposite or if they'd clumb out of the timber and on up the mountain.

Anyway, tracking were done for the day, and when it'd got summat darker, we crept back a way in the shadowy dusk and slipped off through the trees, angling upslope towards the cove above. After a little the timber petered out, and we was in the lower end of the cove itself. The only cover there was patches of scrub on the bottom and lower slopes.

Stars was starting to show as we snuck to the downslope side of the nearest scrub patch. It were matted and thick, so thick 'twould be dusk beneath it at high noon, and no wind would ever get through. Already it were freezing cold, the night wind like ice from above. Egolfs crawled right in a hole in the scrub, sheltered above and on three sides. I rolled up in my robe just outside the edge, still out of the breeze but feeling less closed in.

We lay there chewing on fresh venison, and raw though it were, it were a welcome change from dry. We was about out of dried berries, and finished what we had.

After a bit I could year the slow breathing of Egolfs asleep, back in his dark sprucey cave a couple of meters from me. I looked up at the sky. Even in my robe and out of the breeze I shivered; it weren't going to be the best I'd ever slept.

Soon it were full dark, and the night so clear 'twere beyond belief, with twice the stars I were used to. From somewheres out there the firstfolk come; somewhere out there were Earth. And Fermin had flew about out there and visited lots of em, lots of worlds, and I knowed I wanted to do that too. Took me by surprise, but I wanted it more than any farmstead or anything. Fermin left me that, too.

And somewhere out there were Threllkild's World. I wondered if the yorash knowed that—if maybe they was huddled somewhere looking at those same stars and feeling desperate homesick.

I waked a few times from cold, and then waked up agin and it had gone cloudy. Snowflakes was drifting down. I crawled out of my robe and moved back in the sprucey cave with Egolfs.

* * *

Toward morning I slept hard, and it were bright sunshine when at last I woke feeling stiff from cold, and tired. I peered out; there were half a meter of snow, but we was dry in our hidey hole. I poked Egolfs and he muttered something, and neither of us much wanted to go out in it, yorash or not. But we couldn't spend the winter there, so I got out of my robe and rolled it up, and Egolfs likewise.

We didn't know if the giants was one kilometer away or half a dozen, but suspected they'd stayed the night in timber. We went downstream to the first blowdown what bridged the creek, ready to take cover quick, and crossed moughty careful not to slip.

Then we skirted round the timber to the uphill side and run onto the tracks of the yorash in the snow, striking off up the mountain. It'd still been snowing when they'd come through, cause considerable snow had fell in their tracks. Seemed like they mought be quite a piece ahead, but somehow I knowed 'twould be over by midday, one way or another.

We waded up the steep open ridge, following in their path. Our legs being lots shorter than theirs, it was good to have the trail broke for us. Sun or not, it were hard cold, but we was warm and to spare when we reached the top. From there we could see south over many kilometers of snowy mountains and far off foothills, to flatlands at the edge of seeing, and it were all white.

'twere going to be a hard trail back, but we'd be able to have fire. I was moughty glad I'd shot that doe deer, too.

Close by on the north was high peaks, our ridge crest climbing up to meet em, giant tracks marking the way.

We followed, our rifles slung cross our backs with our bedrolls, our hands in our pockets for warmth. The ridge became a rim tween great coves to east and west, then curved round tween one of them and a greater cove to the north. We seen there what looked to be a great tilted wall of ice beneath the snow, cause they was big open cracks in it that went down to who knows where. Below it in the bottom of the cove were a big lake with a great thick crescent of white ice sticking out of the lake ice. I never seen nor dreamed then of anyplace what looked so savage and cruel as that mountain, nor so beautiful.

But the accident we come on was in one of the littler coves, big though it were, that faced southeast. By the look, one of the giants had fell, and rolled and slid down the steep slope a long ways, and over an edge. The other looked then to of set down and followed, sliding on his seat. I looked and Egolfs looked, and then we looked at each other. I give a shrug and set down and followed, and Egolfs likewise. I didn't see any other way.

The edge, when we got there, weren't near as bad as I'd feared it mought be, just a rim with the slope steeper below than above, and over it we went. It got a little wild then, but the snow being deep and loose, it weren't deadly, and when the slope finally tailed out below, we just sort of slowed down and stopped.

We hadn't more than got up when there were a shot from not far off, and we both flattened back into the snow. But the shot sounded strange, and there were a terrible howl right after.

Of cover we had none, except snow. I looked at my rifle. It were okay to shoot; somehow there weren't no snow in the muzzle. Then I peered about to see where the giants mought be. The tracks led to the foot of a low rock face bout eighty meters off, where there were a big patch of matted spruce twice as high as me, like we'd camped in night afore.

Even naked to bullets, it were time to close and finish it. I jumped up, run a few meters, and dived down in the snow. Then Egolfs come up by me, and we took turns. Whichever of us were down, he laid ready to shoot at any sign of movement ahead. We did this a few times until there were only twenty-five meters left, and hadn't naught happened. So we just both got up and walked ahead, cold-clumsy fingers ready on the triggers. If I'd of shot, 'twould of took me a minute or more to reload, my fingers was that cold.

The tracks went into a gap in the scrub, one to two meters wide. I could see into it, back bout ten or twelve meters to a shallow cave-like hollow in the cliff. I didn't much want to go in there. If I could of, I'd of lit off the scrub and smoked em out, but there were too much snow on it to carry fire, and I'd of had to warm my hands anyway to strike one.

Then I seen something laying part covered with snow at the opening of the gap, went to it and raised it with a foot. A rifle with the barl split and curled back; the poor devil fired it plugged with snow.

I told Egolfs to stay back. If anything jumped at me, I'd drop down and he were to shoot over me. 'twas the only thing we could think of to do. Then I started in.

It were a long ten meters—finger on the trigger, not hardly breathing—and finally I come to the end. And that's what it were, the end, the end of the chase. To one side of the shallow cave, the bigger giant sat crosslegged with the head of the littler on his lap. He were stroking it. She weren't even moaning. Her face were shredded by the explosion, and surely blind.

I just stood there, staring, seeing every bit of it. Him stroking, his red-brown een steady on me, waiting. The feet of both of em was swelled and split, and I knowed they was froze. Thaw em and they'd rot off with gangrene. I yeared Egolfs come in behind me; his breath kind of hissed in at the sight.

I pointed my rifle. The big one just kept looking and stroking. "I'm sorry," I told him. "Awful awful sorry." Then I pulled the trigger; the he-giant fell backward with the top of his head gone. "I really truly am," I said, and shot the poor blind she-giant.

I hoped they knowed.

The yorash weren't all what had broke out of Fermin's spaceship. The dinotheres was loose too, the four of em browsing on brush and just general enjoying theirself. Shaggy they was, and big—the biggest stood tall as the tallest yorash. We never did get em weighed, though there were talk of it. but I wager they'd of gone six, seven ton.

And tame, like Fermin said. Took a little rounding up—they wasn't all that eager to be penned—but after we got a stockade built, we baited em in with hay we hauled on sleds all the way from Sweet Grass Valley. The whole countryside were in on it. Then we learned to get on em and steer em about, and finally drove em to Tom's settlement.

You ought to of seen em the next spring. We could get em to wrap that long nose round a stump, and up it would come, roots popping and dirt flying!

I never did marry Mary Lou, for 'twere that summer the space trader landed in Grass Valley, the first ever on Hardy's World, and I talked em into hiring me on for bread and board to do whatever needed done. Mostly cleaning and cargo handling.

And learned to write and figure, and more after that.

On Peng's Station I joined the Survey Bureau as a surface crew security guard, seen a lot of interesting worlds—some of em more interesting than I liked—and made sergeant first class.

Then, here at Przbylski's Station I yeared bout you fixing to go to Threllkild's World to learn more bout the yorash and see if they's any prospect of civilizing em.

Well, maybe you can see why I want to go long. I'll admit I got my own opinion. I've felt for years now that I killed a kind of man and woman in that cave back home. Deadly dangerous they was, and savage—they'd proved that afore ever they left their world—and they was goners anyway, but I'd like to be along in case anything can be done for their kinfolk.

After all, us humans started out pretty savage too—can be yet sometimes—and we've come a long way. Mought be they can too.

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Framed