Town’s little paper maker, the crow making sure all the details were exact.
“The group that attacked the wagons. Would that have accounted for the full number of husks that you saw at the site of the demolished cocoplod herd?”
“It looked like it. I’d say we were attacked by a hundred.” Snapper looked to Throckmorton for confirmation. “We got them all.”
“Might there have been more in the area? A second pack?”
“No.” Snapper vividly remembered the single dust cloud closing fast from behind the wagon train. “I think every Screamer in the area was drawn to that wagon train. They came straight on – literally in a frenzy. Full speed! Just – just totally insane!”
Samuels was intrigued.
“But why were the cocoplods being driven north east? Who stole the damned things in the first place? You saw no sign of dead rustlers when you found the herd?”
“Nope. Just cocoplod corpses.”
“And you saw the caravan’s campfires – and so managed to save them all.” Samuels shook his head, then finished a last note in his book. “We’ll organise a town meeting, after the council has discussed this. We might need to begin aggressive patrols.” He looked thoughtfully at Snapper. “We may need to raise that full-time cavalry troop after all.”
Snapper stretched, tired and ready to rest. She waved her hands, explaining matters to Throckmorton and Kitterpokkie.
“Samuels is one fifth of the town council. Twenty percent of the government.”
“Indeed!” The mantis was suitably impressed. “And you are also still an explorer – a prospector, sir? Do you still get out into the wilds?”
“Not often in this day and age, my dear. I am much engaged with attempting to educate the town. There is a school to run, and artefacts to examine and classify.”
“And you, mister Toby.” Kitterpokkie looked at the crusty old dog. “So you are a prospector?”
“I don’t travel far, love! Not these days!” The old dog stamped his metal peg leg against the floor. “Not unless I ride!”
“Ah!” The mantis looked at the man’s leg in concern. “Do forgive me!”
“No – It’s all history!” Uncle Toby seemed almost pleased by the whole event. “Lost my leg to a Chomper – a mantis lion. Pack of ‘em came at me! Must have been twelve of them!”
Samuels gave the man a level glare.
“I thought you initially reported it as a mated pair?”
“Twelve! Two big uns – but there was others on the lookout! Others out there on the hunt!”
Samuels the raven politely conceded the point. “Pray continue.”
“Well, there I was, swarming up the tree, and that big bugger of a Chomper male, he was below me. He tried to swarm on up after me – but he got only half way there and fell back! So I stopped climbing and tried to figure a way out of there! And that’s when it happened.” The old dog rapped hard against his metal leg, apparently in fine humour. “The big one tried again! Got half way up – and then the smaller one just climbed right over the top of him. It got its claws onto my foot and started to drag me down! So hell – I dumped the foot and let them both fall, then managed to climb up higher.”
Kitterpokkie’s tall, pointed eyes widened in amazement. “You dumped your foot?”
“Heh, cut my own leg off!” The old man jerked a thumb to a hefty sabre that hung on the wall in easy reach. “Always keep your tools sharp!”
“However did you get away, sir?”
The old man gave a hearty chuckle. “Well, those Chompers, they had one morsel of me, and a ton of hunger. So they started to fight over the thing. Words were flung, blows exchanged, harsh opinions flared. They started a battle so wild it shook me clean out of that tree! When I came to my senses, I saw them all fighting, so I just took off. Buggered off across the veldt.”
Samuels was leaning his head upon one hand. He made a sharp clack of his beak.
“And outran them one legged.”
“The wiles of a junk
“The group that attacked the wagons. Would that have accounted for the full number of husks that you saw at the site of the demolished cocoplod herd?”
“It looked like it. I’d say we were attacked by a hundred.” Snapper looked to Throckmorton for confirmation. “We got them all.”
“Might there have been more in the area? A second pack?”
“No.” Snapper vividly remembered the single dust cloud closing fast from behind the wagon train. “I think every Screamer in the area was drawn to that wagon train. They came straight on – literally in a frenzy. Full speed! Just – just totally insane!”
Samuels was intrigued.
“But why were the cocoplods being driven north east? Who stole the damned things in the first place? You saw no sign of dead rustlers when you found the herd?”
“Nope. Just cocoplod corpses.”
“And you saw the caravan’s campfires – and so managed to save them all.” Samuels shook his head, then finished a last note in his book. “We’ll organise a town meeting, after the council has discussed this. We might need to begin aggressive patrols.” He looked thoughtfully at Snapper. “We may need to raise that full-time cavalry troop after all.”
Snapper stretched, tired and ready to rest. She waved her hands, explaining matters to Throckmorton and Kitterpokkie.
“Samuels is one fifth of the town council. Twenty percent of the government.”
“Indeed!” The mantis was suitably impressed. “And you are also still an explorer – a prospector, sir? Do you still get out into the wilds?”
“Not often in this day and age, my dear. I am much engaged with attempting to educate the town. There is a school to run, and artefacts to examine and classify.”
“And you, mister Toby.” Kitterpokkie looked at the crusty old dog. “So you are a prospector?”
“I don’t travel far, love! Not these days!” The old dog stamped his metal peg leg against the floor. “Not unless I ride!”
“Ah!” The mantis looked at the man’s leg in concern. “Do forgive me!”
“No – It’s all history!” Uncle Toby seemed almost pleased by the whole event. “Lost my leg to a Chomper – a mantis lion. Pack of ‘em came at me! Must have been twelve of them!”
Samuels gave the man a level glare.
“I thought you initially reported it as a mated pair?”
“Twelve! Two big uns – but there was others on the lookout! Others out there on the hunt!”
Samuels the raven politely conceded the point. “Pray continue.”
“Well, there I was, swarming up the tree, and that big bugger of a Chomper male, he was below me. He tried to swarm on up after me – but he got only half way there and fell back! So I stopped climbing and tried to figure a way out of there! And that’s when it happened.” The old dog rapped hard against his metal leg, apparently in fine humour. “The big one tried again! Got half way up – and then the smaller one just climbed right over the top of him. It got its claws onto my foot and started to drag me down! So hell – I dumped the foot and let them both fall, then managed to climb up higher.”
Kitterpokkie’s tall, pointed eyes widened in amazement. “You dumped your foot?”
“Heh, cut my own leg off!” The old man jerked a thumb to a hefty sabre that hung on the wall in easy reach. “Always keep your tools sharp!”
“However did you get away, sir?”
The old man gave a hearty chuckle. “Well, those Chompers, they had one morsel of me, and a ton of hunger. So they started to fight over the thing. Words were flung, blows exchanged, harsh opinions flared. They started a battle so wild it shook me clean out of that tree! When I came to my senses, I saw them all fighting, so I just took off. Buggered off across the veldt.”
Samuels was leaning his head upon one hand. He made a sharp clack of his beak.
“And outran them one legged.”
“The wiles of a junk
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