Beasts Of Gor

"Yes," I said.

"I think it is a rogue," he said. "Also, see the way he is watching you."

"Yes," I said.

"I think it has been hunted before," he said.

"Perhaps," I said. Generally a sleen watches you warily and then, as you approach, submerges. Normally, though it is swift to attack an object moving about in the water, like a swimmer, it will not attack a vessel. Its attack instincts are apparently not triggered by that configuration, or perhaps there is no stimulating smell or familiar pressure patterns, such as it would commonly associate with its prey or a vulnerable object, in the water, from the passage of the craft and the stroke of the paddle. This sleen, however, did not seem to be watching us warily. Rather there was something rather menacing in its attitude.

"Hello, Sleen," I said.

"Do not be silly," said Imnak. 'That is a very dangerous animal."

"Am I not supposed to talk to it?" I asked. I thought I might give Imnak back a bit of his own medicine.

"One must be careful what sleen one talks to," said Imnak. 'There is a time to talk and coax, and a time to be quiet."

"I see." I said, smiling.

"You may talk to it if you wish," said Imnak, "but I would not do so if I were you."

"Why not?" I asked.

"It might listen," he said.

"Is that not the point?" I asked, chuckling.

"That is one sleen you would just as soon not have listen to you," said Imnak. "That is a rogue broad-head, and I think he has been hunted before."

"One must be careful what sleen one takes up with," I said.

"Precisely," said Imnak.

I fished the lance out of the water. I now had both. the lance and the harpoon beside me.

"Arlene would like something for a soup," I said to the sleen. "Can you help me out?"

"Be silent." whispered Imnak, horrified.

"I thought you said he liked me," I said.

"He may be only pretending," said Imnak.

"I think he is really a good fellow," I said.

"Let us not take the chance," said Imnak. "Do not turn your back on him. We will wait quietly until he goes away, and then we will go back to camp."

"No," I said.

"We have two sleen," said Imnak.

"You have two sleen." I said.

"Do not be foolish, Tarl, who hunts with me," said Imnak.

"I am sure he is really a nice sleen," I said.

"Look out!" cried Imnak. "He is coming!"

I dropped the harpoon for it would be an extremely difficult cast to strike the animal head on. The bone point of the harpoon, thrown, would probably not penetrate the skull and it would be difficult to strike the submerged, narrow forepart of the body knifing toward the kayak. I thrust the lance point into the rushing, extended, double-fanged jaws and it penetrated through the side of the mouth, tearing, the animal's face a yard up the shaft. It reared six feet out of the water vertically beside the slender hide vessel. With two hands on the shaft I forced the twisting body to fall away from the craft. One of the large flippers struck me, buffeting me, spi

We nosed our kayaks on each side of the beast, approaching it from the rear.

"It is not breathing now," I said.

"It has been hunted before," said Imnak, "and lived."

"It is dead," I said. "It is not breathing."

"It has been hunted before, and lived," said Imnak. "Let us wait."

We waited for a time. "Let us tow it home," I said. "It is dead."

I poked the beast with the tip of my lance. It did not respond, but moved inertly in the water.

"It is dead," I said. "Let us draw it home now behind us."

"I would not be eager to turn my back on him," said Imnak.

"Why not?" I asked.

"He is not dead," said Imnak.

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

"He is still bleeding," said Imnak.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. Somewhere in that great body, apparently lifeless in the water, there still beat its heart.

"It is a broad-head." said Imnak. "It is pretending."

"It is losing blood," I said. "Too, it must soon breathe."

"Yes," said Imnak. "It will soon make its move. Be ready."

"We could go in with lances now," I said.

"It is waiting for our closer approach," said Imnak. "Do not think its senses are not keen."

"We shall wait?" I asked.

"Yes," said Imnak. "Of course. It is bleeding. Time is on our side."

We waited in the polar dusk.

After a time Imnak said, "Be ready. I have been counting. It must soon breathe."

We readied our lances, one of us on each side of the beast. Suddenly with a great, exploding noise, expelling air, the sleen leaped upward. At the height of its leap we struck it with our lances. It pulled free of the lances and, sucking in air, spun and dove. Again the harpoon line darted downward. "We struck it fairly!" said Imnak. "Watch out!" he cried. The line had grown slack. I peered downward into the water. Then I felt the swell of the water beneath me, clearly through the taut hide of the kayak. I thrust downward with the lance and was half pulled from the kayak, myself and the vessel lifted upward, as the sleen's impaled body reared up almost beneath the craft. Imnak struck again at it from the side. It fell back in the water and I, jerking free the lance, thrust it again into the wet, bloody pelt. It attacked again, laterally in the water, fangs snapping, and I pressed it away with the lance. Imnak struck it again. It thrashed; bloody in the icy water. It turned on Imnak and I thrust my lance deeply into its side, behind the right foreflipper, seeking, hunting, the great, dark heart. It expelled air again. I pulled the lance free to drive it in again. The beast regarded me. Then it rolled in the water.