"Come on!" he barked to Tau and Dane.
They fled along a rough way, trying to gain altitude, but finding a
rising cliff wall which could not be easily climbed. Two more graz went
down, one badly wounded, one safely dead. Behind them more white heads
came from the brush. What original cause had started the stampede the
fugitives could not guess, but now the fear and anger of the animals
were centering upon them.
And, in spite of their efforts, the party was being herded into a pocket
between the jungle below, where the main body of graz crashed along, and
a steep wall. Given time to find the necessary finger and toe holds, a
man might climb that wall, but they could not attempt it now. The
portion of ledge on which they ran, stopped to fire, and then ran on
again, angled to the southeast. And so they came to its end quickly, a
drop ending in a plain of yellow-gray mud studded with clumps of
bleached vegetation which led, like steppingstones, toward a tangle of
matted, sickly looking plants and reeds.
"All right," Tau faced around, "what do we do now? Space lift? And using
what for wings or jets?"
As if the graz could sense that they now had their victims safely
cornered, what must have been a goodly segment of the herd hooked their
way from the jungle and started up.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91