nt, he heard the voice of Vahr Farg's son, and guessed that the
two surviving thieves had advanced to the blasted crest of the other
ridge. They'd find the pack, and his tracks and Brave's. He wondered
whether they'd come hunting for him, or turn around and go the other
way. He knew what he'd do, under the circumstances, but he doubted if
Vahr's mind would work that way. The Southron's might; he wouldn't
want to be caught between blaster-range and rifle-range of Raud the
Keeper again.

"Come, Brave," he whispered, looking quickly around and then starting
to run.

Lay a trail down this ravine for them to follow. Then get to the top
of the ridge beside it, double back, and wait for them. Let them pass,
and shoot the Southron first. By now, Vahr would have a negatron
pistol too, taken from the body of the man in blue, but it wasn't a
weapon he was accustomed to, and he'd be more than a little afraid of
it.

The ravine ended against an upthrust face of ice, at right angles to
the ridge he had just crossed; there was a V-shaped notch between
them. He turned into this; it would be a good place to get to the
top....

He found himself face to face, at fifteen feet, with Vahr Farg's son
and the Southron in yellow, coming through from the other side. They
had their packs, the Southron had the bearskin bundle, and they had
drawn negatron pistols in their hands.

Swinging up the rifle, he shot the Southron in the chest, making sure
he hit him low enough to miss the Crown. At the same time, he shouted:

"_Catch, Brave!_"

Brave never jumped for the deer or wild-ox that had been shot; always
for the one still on its feet. He launched himself straight at the
throat of Vahr Farg's son--and into the muzzle of Vahr's blaster. He
died in a blue-white flash.

Raud had reversed the heavy rifle as Brave leaped; he threw it,
butt-on, like a seal-spear, into Vahr's face. As soon as it was out of
his fingers, he was jumping forward, snatching out his knife. His left
hand found Vahr's right wrist, and he knew that he was driving the
knife into Vahr's body, over and over, trying to keep the blaster
pointed away from him and away from the body of the dead Southron. At
last, the negatron-pistol fell from Vahr's fingers, and the arm that
had been trying to fend off his knife relaxed.

He straightened and tried to stand--he had been kneeling on Vahr's
body, he found--and reeled giddily. He got to his feet and stumbled to
the other body,