off her forehead. “Dragons are related in part to lizards and magical
besides. They do not eat as much as you would suppose.”
“Still, its going to take a lot of meat.”
“I know where to find that. There is open country not far from here and
large game to be had. Will you hunt with me?”
At home Mick had gone deer hunting occasionally, without much luck. On the
other hand the thought of being stuck in camp all day with an overgrown
iguana with a sore wing didn’t appeal to him either.
“Sure,” he said. “Let me get boots on.”
Karin led off at a brisk pace through the forest. Trailing behind her
Gilligan found himself admiring the way she moved lithely through the
undergrowth-and the swing of her hips in her tight riding breeches. He
shook the thought off and tried to concentrate on business.
Gradually the trees thinned and the underbrush diminished until the forest
became almost parklike. Once a herd of deer or something like them went
bounding away at their passage. Karin ignored them, obviously intent on
bigger game.
After perhaps three miles the forest petered out altogether and they moved
out onto a broad plain. The trees were reduced to occasional clumps and
the grass varied between knee and waist high.
Karin stopped and raised her head as if she was sniffing the air. Then she
pointed off to their left and, motioning Gilligan to silence, she started
off in that direction.
Gilligan heard their prey before he saw it. The wind brought crackling and
crashing as if a number of large animals were moving about. As they got
closer he could smell them as well, a faint odor that reminded him of
nothing so much as the elephant house in the zoo.
The dragon rider moved through the grass silently with a grace that made
it seem effortless. Gilligan, trying to move quietly, found it wasn’t
effortless at all. He had to keep his eyes on the ground in order to keep
from stepping on dry leaves or twigs. He was so intent on trying to move
quietly he almost ran into Karin when she stopped suddenly. Then he looked
up and saw what they were hunting.
Dinosaurs! Gilligan thought. There were about a dozen of them in a clump
of trees perhaps a hundred and fifty yards off. They were bipedal and
balanced themselves with their long tails while they used their smaller
forearms to pull branches down to the small heads on their snakelike necks
and then nipped off the leaves and buds. They were striped dusty gray and
green and they didn’t look like any dinosaurs he had ever seen pictures
of. But they were definitely large and reptilian.
While Gilligan had been staring at the animals, Karin had slipped to one
side and dropped down on one knee. Slowly and carefully she drew the bow
to full extension, string and arrow kissing her lip. Then she released.
Suddenly an arrow sprouted from the flank of one of the dinosaurs. The
beast stopped feeding, looked down at its tormentor, honked once and then
dropped like a sack of sand.
Instantly the other dinosaurs fled, honking and bellowing, knocking over a
small tree in their flight.
As the noise of the herd faded into the distance Karin and Mick moved up
to the carcass.
“They have no fear of humans,” Karin said, surveying her kill. “If all the
beasts on this island are like that I will have no trouble keeping Stigi
fed.”
“As long as they don’t stampede toward you when you shoot one,” Gilligan
said.
“Such animals almost always run upwind when frightened,” Karin told him.
“That way they can smell what is ahead of them.”
“Great,” Mick said, looking at the kill. “Now, how do we get it back to
camp?”
“That will not be necessary. Stigi can walk. I will go and get him. Can
you stay here with the kill?”
“Sure.”
“Oh, and do not let predators get at the carcass. Stigi expects to be
first on a kill and it upsets him when he is not.”
Mick thought of Stigi angry. “Right,” he said.
Karin nodded and strode off the way they had come.