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Extrone aimed carefully and fired, full charge, then lowered the rifle and said, “Here comes Lin with the rope, I see.”

Ri was greenish. “You ... you....”

Extrone turned to Lin. “Tie one end around his waist.”

“Wait,” Ri begged, fighting off the rope with his hands. “You don’t want to use me, sir. Not after I told you.... Please, sir. If anything should happen to me.... Please, sir. Don’t do it.”

“Tie it,” Extrone ordered.

“No, sir. Please. Oh, please don’t, sir.”

“Tie it,” Extrone said inexorably.

Lin bent with the rope; his face was colorless.

They were at the watering hole—Extrone, Lin, two bearers, and Ri.

Since the hole was drying, the left, partially exposed bank was steep toward the muddy water. Upon it was green, new grass, tender-tuffed, half mashed in places by heavy animal treads. It was there that they staked him out, tying the free end of the rope tightly around the base of a scaling tree.

“You will scream,” Extrone instructed. With his rifle, he pointed across the water hole. “The farn beast will come from this direction, I imagine.”