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trip.”
    They kept to the trees, and descended the hill until they saw a small clearing. Nestled at the edge of it was a substantial cabin, and a small shed with an attached log fence penning in several tusked animals related to others in The Memories.
    The men sat on their haunches and watched the place for several minutes. There was no sound except the snorting of the animals. It seemed whoever lived there was away for the moment. They moved in cautiously, following Maki’s hand signals, coming up on the cabin from the nearby trees to give them a quick retreat. They pressed against the wall of the building, listening, then Maki stood up and peered cautiously inside. Nobody there. Three rooms in the structure, and a fireplace, and something else, something he wanted badly. He motioned for the others to come near, and whispered, “There’s nobody here, so we work quickly. You two kill a couple of the smaller animals we can carry away. I’m going inside.”
    Dorald was grinning broadly, eager as usual for bloodletting. Maki left them and went to the front of the cabin, pushing, rattling, fiddling with a knob on the entrance cover until it suddenly opened. He studied the mechanism, quickly seeing how the door held shut when unattended, then went inside and shut it behind him. The room was warm, and a pot of food was bubbling over the open flame of an enclosed cooking fire in one corner. Maki only sniffed at it, then went straight to the fireplace over which the long pointing weapon was hung on two wooden pegs. He lifted it off gently, caressing it as he worked the lever until he saw the yellow projectile inside. There were ten others strapped to the broad part of the weapon that went against the shoulder.
    It was a weapon he was familiar with, one that had nearly killed him and Dorald in a previous raid. But without projectiles to throw, the weapon wasn’t even a good club. He looked for more projectiles, at last finding them in a box on the ledge above the fireplace. As he took them there was a squeal and a scream from outside, and a sound like the smashing of a gourd against a rock. Dorald laughed loudly, and Han was telling him to shut up, but the laughter continued until there was another pitiful scream, then silence.
    Maki searched the rest of the cabin, but found nothing more he wanted. He opened the cabin door and emerged triumphantly, clutching the weapon in one hand over his head. Dorald and Han, blood-spattered, were dragging two carcasses across the ground, stopping when they saw him. “Aieeee, look what you found,” cried Han, greatly impressed with the new power his young leader now possessed. “We’ve done well, too. These young boars will make a great feast.” He prodded one carcass with a foot, but was pushed aside by Dorald, who like a child wanted to show off his new treasure as well. The hulking Tenanken held up a new metal axe, now covered with blood, and swung it one-handed around his head with a whirring sound. “With my new club I will split Hinchai skulls, and eat their brains,” he growled.
    “You’ve done well, and luck is with us. Let’s go, now, before anyone returns.” Maki closed the door to the cabin as the others hoisted the carcasses on their backs. Maki took the axe from Dorald, and carried it with his pointing weapon. In a minute they were back in the safety of the trees with a half-day march ahead of them, and darkness was coming fast. They would have to spend one more night outside, and return to the cavern in the morning. Han and Dorald both grunted under their burdens, and before long Dorald was complaining about being hungry again. It was going to be a long night for the three of them.
    It was after dark when they reached the field they had eaten from on the way out, but noise drove them back to the shelter of the trees, and they watched fearfully as a great Hinchai machine chewed away the field illuminated by its dim light, spewing out a cloud of pulverized stalk behind