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"Meat!" the two outlaws said at the same time.
The stories were true. These men were ca
They were close enough that the short-sighted bear could see them. He stopped eating and rose to his hind legs, swaying, his paws held out, his chops bloody.
The bear probably would not have minded being outnumbered if the strangers had been unarmed. But two held loaded crossbows, and one had an object the purpose of which the bear would not know but would suspect was a weapon.
"Beat it!" the bear said. "I killed this moose, and it's all mine. Find your own food!"
Sharts said, "We don't usually kill animals for food. But since you've done us a favor by killing this moose, we'll eat it."
"Over my dead body, freak-eyes!"
"That may be," Sharts said. "However, why don't you just go away? We're not violent men; we'd just as soon not shed blood. There must be plenty of deer and moose in these woods."
"I like bear meat even better than moosemeat," Blogo said. "Why don't we dine on both, boss?"
"Now, wait a minute," Hank said. "That'd be murder!"
"Not if he attacks us," Sharts said. "And if he doesn't move on, that'll be the same as attacking us."
"How do you lamebrains figure that?" the bear said.
"If we start to cut off some of the moose, you'll attack us, right?"
"Right."
"We're going to slice off a hunk."
The bear snarled and said, "Try it!"
"You haven't got a chance," Hank said. "Why don't we compromise, work something out? There's plenty there for all of us. Let's share it. Half for you, half for us."
"I love bear meat," Blogo said, and he smacked his lips.
"And I love to eat monkeys and roosters," the bear said. "Which are you? Or are you a hybrid? Was your father a rooster? What isn't monkey looks like chicken. In fact, you're probably all chicken. Cut-cut-cuh-daw!"
"I'll show you who's chicken!" Blogo said, but he did not step toward the bear.
"I suppose," Sharts said to Hank, "that if we kill this animal, you'll tell Glinda about it?"
"It'd be murder," Hank said. "You'd be outlaws again."
"It isn't such a bad life, boss," Blogo said.
"I prefer the amenities of civilization," Sharts said. "Books, good wine, warm houses, a bath every day, beautiful women, concerts, a laboratory. I'm sick of living like a savage."
"Look, bear, what's your name?"
"It's none of your business, but it's Kwelala the Unbeaten."
"A tough guy, a champ, huh? Well, I'll make you a sporting proposition, you ursine bum. I'll fight you unarmed, no holds barred, and if I lick you, you walk off and leave the moose to us. If you beat me, we walk away. How's that?"
"Yeah? No treachery? Your friends won't shoot me no matter what I do to you?"
"I promise. The word of Sharts."
"I never heard of you, man. But if you want to die, and you must, I don't blame you, you're such an ugly miserable-looking pile of weasel poppy, well, let's have at it!"
Sharts dropped his crossbow and charged. The bear was so surprised that he backed away. Sharts leaped into the air and kicked with both feet. His wooden soles struck the bear's lower jaw, and the bear fell backward, partly stu
Sharts landed on his back but was up quickly. The bear got to his feet just as Sharts struck the bear again on the jaw. Cross-eyed, the bear fell once more. But when Sharts leaped at him again, the bear swiped his paw at him. Sharts was hurled whirling away and fell. On all fours now, the bear charged. Sharts, on his back, kicked the bear in the nose and rolled while the animal was bawling with pain. He got up and jumped on the bear's back and applied a full-nelson.
Hank's eyes widened, and he swore softly. He would have said that no man was strong enough to bend the massive neck of a bear. But it was moving downward, and it was going to crack if Sharts could keep the pressure up.
The bear rolled on top of Sharts twice. The giant did not loosen his grip.
"Give up," Sharts said in a strangled voice. "Or I'll break your neck like it's a toothpick!"
"I can't believe this," Kwelala said. "It just can't be happening to me!"
"I won't tell anybody I beat you," Sharts said. "You can keep your pride and your monicker."
"Promise?"
"My word is as strong as my muscles."
"O.K. You can have the damn moose. I think she was sick, anyway. I hope you get sick eating her."
"Shoot him if he tries anything," Sharts said, and he released the bear. Kwelala walked off, grumbling, but he did not look back.
Sharts, breathing hard, said, "That stupid beast tore off my shirt."
Blogo started to take off his knapsack. "I got another one for you, boss."
Their mouths watering, they ski
When he returned, he found that Blogo was chewing ecstatically on a small and burnt piece. Hank held his own out over the fire, and, when it looked almost medium-done, he withdrew it until it had cooled off enough to bite into.
But when he brought the meat close to his open mouth, his gorge rose.
After looking at the meat for a long time, he threw it into the fire. He rose and said, "Hell, I can't do it!"
Sharts, gri
"You might call it that," Hank said disgustedly. He walked into the woods to look for nuts and berries. Two hours later, he returned to the plane, his belly full. He was still dissatisfied.
Bargma was swallowing a small piece of meat which Blogo had brought for her. She got it down and said, "What now?"
"First, the ruins. Then we have to look for somebody or some place with alcohol."
"It's more important to find fuel," Blogo said. "I'll start looking for it first thing in the morning."
They spent the night under a ledge and next to a fire. In the morning, tired, stiff, and cold, they went out for food. Sharts and Blogo did not have far to go since the moose meat was still fresh enough for them. Hank went back to where he had found the berries and nuts and ate the now-monotonous food. When he got back, Sharts and Blogo were smearing a cream over their wounds. These were healing fast and were not, as he had supposed, going to be deep scars. New skin was growing over the wounds, and the two expected the scar tissue to fall off.
He asked Sharts about the cream. The giant explained that Blogo had brought it with him when he had left his people. Sharts was thinking about analyzing the ingredients and manufacturing it when he returned to civilization.
"He and I, we're going to become rich," Blogo said. "It's a secret remedy which only one of my people knows. But Sharts here, he'll find out what the recipe is and make some more."
Hank thought that if he could get the formula and take it to Earth, he could become a millionaire, too. But it was evident that there was not much chance for returning. Besides, he was not eager to do so.
Shortly thereafter, the Rare Beast set off northwestward along the plateau edge to look for signs of human life. Hank and Sharts walked to the ruins and poked around in the stones and the half-buried buildings. These were made of cyclopean blocks of some white mineral mortared together. Though erosion had crumbled the faces of the blocks, the mortar was untouched by time.
After a while, Sharts wandered off. Hank found a block of stone wider than his parents' mansion in Oyster Bay. About twelve feet of it protruded from the ground. All around it were carved figures of animals and objects and strange-looking bipeds with human hands. Hank thought that they were meant to portray some kind of story. They formed a row ru