bone powder and mangled flesh, cuffed Togi across her nose
and buried his hands in the fur about Taggi's throat as he heaved the
male wolverine back from the struggling monster. He shouted orders, and
to his surprise Togi did obey, leaving him free to yank Taggi away.
Perhaps neither wolverine had expected the full fury of the hound.

Though he suffered a slash across the back of one hand, delivered by the
over-excited Taggi, in the end Shann was able to get both animals away
from the hole, now corked so effectively by the slavering thing.
Thorvald was actually laughing as he watched his younger companion in
action.

"This ought to slow up the beetles! If they haul their little doggie
back, it's apt to take out some of its rage on them, and I'd like to see
them dig around it."

Considering that the monstrous head was swinging from side to side in a
collar of what seemed to be immovable rocks, Shann thought Thorvald
right. He went down on his knees beside the wolverines, soothing them
with hand and voice, trying to get them to obey his orders willingly.

"Ha!" Thorvald brought his mud-stained hands together with a clap, the
sharp sound attracting the attention of both animals.

Shann scrambled up, swung out his bleeding hand in the simple motion
which meant to hunt, being careful to signal down the valley westward.
Taggi gave a last reluctant growl at the hound, to be answered by one of
its ear-torturing howls, and then trotted off, Togi tagging behind.

Thorvald caught Shann's slashed hand, inspecting the bleeding cut. From
the aid packet at his belt he brought out powder and a strip of
protecting plasta-flesh to cleanse and bind the wound.

"You'll do," he commented. "But we'd better get out of here before full
dark."

The small paradise of the valley was no safe campsite. It could not be
so long as that monstrosity on the hillside behind them roared and
howled its rage to the darkening sky. Trailing the wolverines, the men
caught up with the animals drinking from a small spring and thankfully
shared that water. Then they pushed on, not able to forget that
somewhere in the peaks about must lurk the Throg flyer ready to attack
on sight.

Only darkness could not be held off by the will of men. Here in the open
there was no chance to use the torch. As long as they were within the
valley boundaries the phosphorescent bushes marked a path. But by the
coming of complete darkness they were once more out in a region