West of Eden by Harry Harrison. Book two. Chapter 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32

“One of them is getting away, there!” Herilak called out, starting forward.

“No time!” Kerrick called out. “We don’t have much farther to go—and we must start the fire before the rain comes.”

He ran now, gasping for breath, with the tired hunters running behind him. That row of trees ahead, that would be the place. He heard hèsotsan being fired behind him but he dared not look, ran on.

He stumbled and dropped beneath the tall oak tree, threw down his weapons, and dragged the carved box from the bag at his waist. There was more firing and loud shouting as Herilak ran up.

“They know we are here. Killed some, so did they. They are back in the trees now and we’re holding them.”

“Get me the branches,” Kerrick called out, forcing himself to move slowly as he knelt and took the fire stones from the box. When he took out a pinch of dried wood as well a sudden gust of wind blew it from his hand; raindrops spattered on the leaves above. A length of branch was dropped beside him, then another.

Slowly, go slowly! It must be done right the first time because there would be no second chance. With trembling hands he placed the wooden box on the ground, spilled all of the dried wood dust inside it. Stone against stone now, struck sharply together, just as he had done it countless times before. The long sparks shot out, again and again.

A thin curl of blue smoke drifted up from the box.

He bent over, blew on it gently, added the flakes of dried leaves to the tiny glow, blew again. A thin red flame flared brightly. Bit by bit he added all of the leaves, then dug the bits of bark and twig from his bag. Only when all of these were burning brightly did he risk looking up.

There were bodies behind him in the field, Tanu and Yilanè both. Not as many as he had feared. Herilak had driven the attackers away and had placed hunters as guards. They were crouching behind trees, weapons ready, preventing the murgu from coming back. Herilak hurried towards

Kerrick now, his face running with sweat, smiling widely at the sight of the blaze.

The wooden box itself was burning when Kerrick pushed it into the stacked wood, then piled thicker branches on top. Heat flared out and drops of rain sizzled as they fell into the fire. He dared not look up at the approaching storm as he built the fire higher and higher. Only when the lengths of wood were burning brightly, the heat of them forcing him to keep his arm before his face, did he cry out as loudly as he could.

“Now! Everyone—to the fire! The city burns!”

His shout brought excited cheers, running feet. Branches were pulled out, carried away, crackling sparks falling in their wake. Kerrick seized up a branch himself and ran into the thicket, pushing it before him among the dry leaves. They smoldered and smoked—then burst into bright flame. He moved on, lighting other bushes, until the heat drove him back and the smoking branch burnt his hand. He threw it through the flames into the trees beyond.

All along the edge of the grove shouting hunters were setting more and more trees alight. Flames were already shooting up through the branches of the oak before him, jumping to the next tree. A single branch remained in the fire that he had lit and Kerrick grabbed it up and ran with it, past the others. Past Sanone at the far end who was in among the trees, firing them. Kerrick went on a good distance before he jabbed the torch into the undergrowth. The wind whipped the sparks away and in an instant the brush was alight.

Flame and smoke were shooting high into the air now, roiling darkly against the already darkened sky. The trees crackled and blazed, thunder rumbled. The storm had still not broken.

The fargi were having difficulty in rounding up the beasts for the daily slaughter. Something was disturbing them, they kept rushing from one side of the pen to the other, even knocking down one of the fargi, their eyes rolling so that they shone whitely. The Yilanè in charge was shouting loud orders to no avail. She was suddenly aware of a crackling noise and a strange, pungent smell. She turned about to see the sheets of sunlight climbing skywards, black stormclouds behind them.

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