Victims of Nimbo by Gilbert L. Morris Page B

doing all the cooking. They grilled fish over the coals and roasted a young deer, too, and it was quite a marvelous feast.
    Jere sat beside the chief, while across from them sat Chan and the high priest. Sarah, standing with the women, noticed that Chan and Nomus were glowering.
         More than once, Chan and Nomus glanced across the table and whispered to each other.
    “What does she see in that puppy, Nomus?” Chan once grumbled.
    The priest grinned evilly. “More than she sees in you, I think.”
    He knew that Chan was determined to have Lomeen for one of his wives. For some reason she seemed equally determined to have nothing to do with him.
    “Let me catch him out alone sometime,” Chan said. “We’ll see what he can do.”
    Nomus turned sour. He did not like the way things were going, either. Somehow Chief Maroni had softened and mellowed under the influence of the young man and the Sleeper they called Sarah. He felt that his power over the chief was slipping away from him. But he would regain it. His mind worked constantly, trying to think of a way.
         When most of the eating was over, and the men sat around drinking a brew that bit at Sarah’s throat so that she would not try it again, Chief Maroni said, “Now we will have entertainment.”
    Jere turned to Lomeen, who was standing behind him. “Come and sit down, Lomeen. Let us watch the fun.”
    Lomeen looked nervously toward her father. “Our women do not sit in the presence of men.”
    Jere said. “It’s the same with us, but I don’t see why. I think that is rather silly.”
    “Good for you, Jere,” Sarah whispered.
    The chief had taken all this in. As the entertainment began, he questioned Jere about the customs of the Cloud People. He listened for a time, then said, “It is too bad that our tribes don’t get along better.”
    “It is indeed a shame, Chief,” Sarah said quickly from behind him, seeing her opportunity. “The two tribes could share so many things. The Cloud People could learn from you how to hunt better.”
    “Especially if we were allowed to get on the ground without getting killed,” Jere said.
    The chief blinked thoughtfully, but he said, “It is the way things are.”
    “It’s the way things are, but it is not the way things have to be,” Jere said. “See how well we’re getting along here.”
         From across the table, Nomus gave the young stranger a hard glance. Then the high priest muttered to Chan, “I’ll have to do something about this.”
    “Let me take care of him. I’ll take him for a walk, and he’ll never come back.”
    “No. That won’t do.” His eyes fell on the girl Sarah then, and an idea came to him. He said nothing more, but he stroked his cheek and let himself smile an evil smile.
         Sarah enjoyed the simple entertainment—it was graceful folk dancing.
    Jere too watched with a smile. When it was finished, he applauded, saying, “Wonderful! I wish I could dance like that!”
    “What can you do to entertain us, Prince Jere?” Chief Maroni asked.
    “Not much. I can tell a story perhaps.”
    “Good. We love stories here.”
    What followed next was very interesting to Sarah, watching from the cooking fire.
    Jere came to his feet and soon proved to have the natural gift of a storyteller. His words were smooth and flowing, and especially since he was talking to people who could not read—whose only entertainment was oral stories—he was well received. Everyone grew quiet as he told of a great hunt in which a noble chief slew a mighty monster.
    Maroni leaned forward, his face solemn and filled with interest as he listened. When Jere ended, he applauded wildly. “That was a fine story! Do you know any more?”
    “Oh, I could go on forever,” Jere said with a laugh. Then he told a funny story, which had all the villagers in an uproar.
    Sarah went back to stand beside Lomeen. She saw that the girl’s eyes were fixed on the young man. “He’s a wonderful