ry water splashed toward the sky.

Then it was gone as quickly as it had happened, but there was a
tumbled slash across the forest where the churning winds had traveled.

Back at the farm, Zikkara had warned him of the _skun_. This was the
season for them, it had said, and a man caught in one wouldn't have a
chance.

Duncan let his breath out slowly.

"Bad," said Sipar.

"Yes, very bad."

"Hit fast. No warning."

"What about the trail?" asked Duncan. "Did the Cytha--"

Sipar nodded downward.

"Can we make it before nightfall?"

"I think so," Sipar answered.

It was rougher than they had thought. Twice they went down blind
trails that pinched off, with sheer rock faces opening out into drops
of hundreds of feet, and were forced to climb again and find another
way.

They reached the bottom of the escarpment as the brief twilight closed
in and they hurried to gather firewood. There was no water, but a
little was still left in their canteens and they made do with that.

* * * * *

After their scant meal of rockahominy, Sipar rolled himself into a
ball and went to sleep immediately.

Duncan sat with his back against a boulder which one day, long ago,
had fallen from the slope above them, but was now half buried in the
soil that through the ages had kept sifting down.

Two days gone, he told himself.

Was there, after all, some truth in the whispered tales that made the
rounds back at the settlements--that no one should waste his time in
tracking down a Cytha, since a Cytha was unkillable?

Nonsense, he told himself. And yet the hunt had toughened, the trail
become more difficult, the Cytha a much more cunning and elusive
quarry. Where it had run from them the day before, now it fought to
shake them off. And if it did that the second day, why had it not
tried to throw them off the first? And what about the third
day--tomorrow?

He shook his head. It seemed incredible that an animal would become
more formidable as the hunt progressed. But that seemed to be exactly
what had happened. More spooked, perhaps, more frightened--only the
Cytha did not act like a frightened beast. It was acting like an
animal that was gaining savvy and determination, and that was somehow
frightening.

From far off to the west, toward the forest and the river, came the
laughter and the howling of a pack of screamers. Duncan leaned his
rifle against the boulder and got up to pile more wood on th