follow it. That is the price you pay for such a vision. I know what I must do to make sure
the story comes true in every possible realm of the multiverse. Thus I’ll achieve that ultimate harmony we all desire more
than life or death!”
Feeling overwhelmed by my own thoughts, I again took the first watch, listening with an attention which had once been habitual.
But I was certain Klosterheim and his pygmies were not out there.
I was ready for sleep when I woke Ayanawatta to take his watch. He settled himself comfortably against Bes’s gently rising
and falling chest and filled another pipe. For all his appearance of indolence, I knew that every sense was alert. He had
the air of all true outdoors folk, of being as securely comfortable in that vast wilderness under the moon and stars as another
might be in the luxury of an urban living room.
The last thing I saw before I went to sleep was that broad, reassuring face, its tattoos telling the tale of his life journey,
staring contentedly at the sky, confident of his ability to live up to everything his dream demanded of him.
In the morning Bes was restless. We washed and ate rapidly and were soon mounted again. We let the mammoth take her own course,
since she evidently had a better idea than we where to find her master.
The only weapon White Crow had taken was his black-bladed lance.
I feared for him. “He might have been overwhelmed by the pygmies.”
Ayanawatta was unworried. “With those senses ofhis, he can hear anything coming. But there is always the chance he’s met with an accident. If so, he is not far from here.
Bes can find him if we cannot.”
By noon we had yet to see a sign of White Crow. Bes kept moving steadily towards the mountains, following the gentle curves
of the landscape. Sometimes we could see for miles across the rolling drumlins. At other times we traveled through shallow
valleys. Occasionally Bes paused, lifting her wide, curving tusks against the sky, her relatively small ears moving to follow
a sound. Satisfied, she would then move on.
It was close to evening before Bes slowly brought her massive body to a halt and began to scent at the air with her trunk.
Made long and dark by the sun, our shadows followed us like gigantic ghosts.
Once more Bes’s ears waved back and forth. She seemed to hear something she had been hoping for and strained towards the source
of the sound. We, of course, let her have her head. She began to move gradually to the east, to our right, slowly picking
up speed until she was striding across the prairie at what amounted to a canter.
In the distance now I heard a strange mixture of noises. Something between the honking of geese and the hissing of snakes,
mixed with a gurgling rumble which sounded like the first eruptions of a volcano.
All of a sudden White Crow appeared before us, waving his lance in triumph, grinning and shouting.
“I’ve found him again! Quickly, let’s not lose him.” He began running beside the mammoth, keeping easy pace with her.
I heard the noise again, but louder. I caught a sweet, familiar smell as we crested a broad, sweeping hill. Setting behind
the mountains, the sun turned the whole scene blood red. And there we saw White Crow’s intended prey.
The size of a three-story building, its brilliant feathered ruff was flaming with a thousand hues in that deepening light.
I had never seen so much color on one animal. Dazzling peacock feathers blazed purple, scarlet and gold, emerald and ruby
and sapphire. Such beautiful plumage was the finery of a creature whose nightmare features should have disappeared from the
Earth countless millions of years before. Its brown-black beak looked as if it had been carved from a gigantic block of mahogany.
Above the beak two terrible brilliant yellow eyes glared, each the size of a dressing mirror. The mouth snapped and clacked,
streaming with pale green saliva. As we watched, the thing lifted a
the story comes true in every possible realm of the multiverse. Thus I’ll achieve that ultimate harmony we all desire more
than life or death!”
Feeling overwhelmed by my own thoughts, I again took the first watch, listening with an attention which had once been habitual.
But I was certain Klosterheim and his pygmies were not out there.
I was ready for sleep when I woke Ayanawatta to take his watch. He settled himself comfortably against Bes’s gently rising
and falling chest and filled another pipe. For all his appearance of indolence, I knew that every sense was alert. He had
the air of all true outdoors folk, of being as securely comfortable in that vast wilderness under the moon and stars as another
might be in the luxury of an urban living room.
The last thing I saw before I went to sleep was that broad, reassuring face, its tattoos telling the tale of his life journey,
staring contentedly at the sky, confident of his ability to live up to everything his dream demanded of him.
In the morning Bes was restless. We washed and ate rapidly and were soon mounted again. We let the mammoth take her own course,
since she evidently had a better idea than we where to find her master.
The only weapon White Crow had taken was his black-bladed lance.
I feared for him. “He might have been overwhelmed by the pygmies.”
Ayanawatta was unworried. “With those senses ofhis, he can hear anything coming. But there is always the chance he’s met with an accident. If so, he is not far from here.
Bes can find him if we cannot.”
By noon we had yet to see a sign of White Crow. Bes kept moving steadily towards the mountains, following the gentle curves
of the landscape. Sometimes we could see for miles across the rolling drumlins. At other times we traveled through shallow
valleys. Occasionally Bes paused, lifting her wide, curving tusks against the sky, her relatively small ears moving to follow
a sound. Satisfied, she would then move on.
It was close to evening before Bes slowly brought her massive body to a halt and began to scent at the air with her trunk.
Made long and dark by the sun, our shadows followed us like gigantic ghosts.
Once more Bes’s ears waved back and forth. She seemed to hear something she had been hoping for and strained towards the source
of the sound. We, of course, let her have her head. She began to move gradually to the east, to our right, slowly picking
up speed until she was striding across the prairie at what amounted to a canter.
In the distance now I heard a strange mixture of noises. Something between the honking of geese and the hissing of snakes,
mixed with a gurgling rumble which sounded like the first eruptions of a volcano.
All of a sudden White Crow appeared before us, waving his lance in triumph, grinning and shouting.
“I’ve found him again! Quickly, let’s not lose him.” He began running beside the mammoth, keeping easy pace with her.
I heard the noise again, but louder. I caught a sweet, familiar smell as we crested a broad, sweeping hill. Setting behind
the mountains, the sun turned the whole scene blood red. And there we saw White Crow’s intended prey.
The size of a three-story building, its brilliant feathered ruff was flaming with a thousand hues in that deepening light.
I had never seen so much color on one animal. Dazzling peacock feathers blazed purple, scarlet and gold, emerald and ruby
and sapphire. Such beautiful plumage was the finery of a creature whose nightmare features should have disappeared from the
Earth countless millions of years before. Its brown-black beak looked as if it had been carved from a gigantic block of mahogany.
Above the beak two terrible brilliant yellow eyes glared, each the size of a dressing mirror. The mouth snapped and clacked,
streaming with pale green saliva. As we watched, the thing lifted a
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