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shoulder and across his back.  Then he was running to catch up with the Rogu.  They were all sweating freely, their tanned skin glossy from running all morning.  Rafe ’ s thick hair clung to his face as the sweat ran down.  His tunic was soon soaked through and his boots felt heavy.  He fell into pace with the hunters and focused on breathing.  He was in good shape, and could wield his sword for hours at a time, but there wasn ’ t much call for running in Avondale.  Still, it felt good to Rafe to stretch his muscles and push himself.  He vowed silently to keep up.
    The smell of the herd hit Rafe almost like a physical blow.  He still couldn ’ t make out the animals, but he could smell them.  He had to focus on each step to keep from trampling the round droppings the creatures left behind.  Their dung hadn ’ t had a chance to dry out yet, and each one had the consistency of mud.  The Rogu ignored the droppings, although Rafe rarely saw them step on any.  The hunters were surefooted, and light on their feet.  Rafe began to envy their bare feet as his tall boots grew heavy.  He was temped to stop and pull his boots off, but he didn ’ t want to fall behind the others.
    As the Tamakas came into view, he realized that they were large animals.  They were taller than the cows he was used to in Avondale, and easily twice as wide.  They had thick legs and their fat, shaggy bodies were huge; their round stomachs almost touched the ground.  Most had a large hump on their backs where their shaggy fur was less thick, the hair a striking silver color, or in some cases, completely bare.  Their heads were wide and flat, with short, thick horns that curved back over their heads toward each other.
    Rafe realized that the Rogu had no weapons that he could see other than the short clubs they carried and had attacked with during the night.  He knew the clubs were not stout enough to slay one of the huge shaggy Tamakas.  They needed spears and he mentally kicked himself for not bringing the three he had brought from Avondale.
    “ Te ’ sumee, ” Rafe said, panting for breath.  “ What ’ s our plan? ”
    The hunter looked at him strangely.
    “ How are you going to kill a Tamaka without any weapons? ” Rafe asked.
    Te ’ sumee pulled out a small knife.  It was made of steel, not one of the stone knives he ’ d seen that were so prevalent among the tribe, and he breathed a small sigh of relief.  Still, the blade of the knife was barely as long as Rafe ’ s index finger.  He couldn ’ t imagine what it would take to bring down a huge beast with just a knife.
    “ You ’ re going to kill a Tamaka with that? ”
    “ We kill many, you will see, ” said Te ’ sumee.  “ Stay here, watch. ”
    As the Rogu closed the distance with the herd of Tamakas, they began to fan out in a long line.  The herd was so massive that even though the beasts in the rear were crying out with fear, they couldn ’ t run away because most of the herd was moving slowly and grazing.  The beasts at the rear of the herd were the weakest. Many were young and only half the size of the bigger adults.  Some were obviously old, others sick.  The Rogu ignored the sick creatures, and focused on several young Tamakas, and just a few of the full size adults.
    The hunters began to shout and make high-pitched yipping noises.  The Tamakas brayed fearfully.  Many ran forward only to be kicked by the powerful hind legs of the beasts in front of them.  Rafe saw that most of the Tamakas were wide eyed with terror and he understood why.  The herd was a place of safety for most of the huge, shaggy creatures, but for those on the fringe, it was a dangerous place.  They had only two choices, leave the herd and try to escape on their own, or turn and fight.  The herd at large simply ignored Te ’ sumee and his band of Rogu.  Most of the beasts were too terrified to do much of anything but press against the creatures in front of them.
    The