ee what you mean, man. _Fish gotta
swim, bird gotta fly_--and nomad gotta roam. He flips if he doesn't."

Homer Crawford pursued it. "Sure, there'll be Tuareg afterward ... but
all descended from the fraction of deviant Tuareg who were so
abnormal--speaking from the Tuareg viewpoint--that they liked settled
community life." He rubbed a hand along his jawbone, unhappily. "Put it
this way. Think of them as a tribe of genetic claustrophobes. No matter
what a claustrophobe promises, he can't work in a mine. He has no choice
but to break his promise and escape ... or kill himself trying."

Isobel was staring at him. "What you say, is disturbing, Homer. I didn't
come to Africa to destroy a people."

He looked back at her, oddly. "None of us did."

Cliff said from behind the aircraft's controls, "If you believe what
you're saying, how do you justify being here yourself?"

"I don't know," Crawford said unhappily. "I don't know what started me
on this kick, but I seem to have been doing more inner searching this
past week or so than I have in the past couple of decades. And I don't
seem to come up with much in the way of answers."

"Well, man," Abe said. "If you find any, let us know."

Jake said, his voice warm, "Look Homer, don't beat yourself about this.
What you say figures, but you've got to take it from this angle. The
plains Indians had to go. The world is developing too fast for a few
thousand people to tie up millions of acres of some of the most fertile
farm land anywhere, because they needed it for their game--the
buffalo--to run on."

"Um-m-m," Homer said, his voice lacking conviction.

"Maybe it's unfortunate the _way_ it was done. The story of the
American's dealing with the Amerind isn't a pretty one, and usually
comfortably ignored when we pat ourselves on the back these days and
tell ourselves what a noble, honest, generous and peace loving people we
are. But it did have to be done, and the job we're doing in North Africa
has to be done, too."

Crawford said softly, "And sometimes it isn't very pretty either."

* * * * *

Mopti as a town had grown. Once a small river port city of about five
thousand population, it had been a river and caravan crossroads somewhat
similar to Timbuktu, and noted in particular for its spice market and
its Great Mosque, probably the largest building of worship ever made of
mud. Plastered newly at least twice a year with fresh adobe, at a
d