[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
grass in the soft earth of the river bank showed how he had gotten there. His
eyes were closed, his jaws were lathered in foam and snapped unceasingly, and
his body and limbs jerked and twitched with such force that he moved about on
the ground. The sharp odor that had accompanied his earlier violent outburst
against his own people when they had left the plateau was heavy in the air.
Cary dropped at the otter's side and tried to hold the jerking body still,
but it was too strong for him. He felt himself violently shoved aside. Looking
up, he saw Mattie, who knelt in his place beside Charlie.
"Convulsions!" Mattie snapped at him. "Don't you know convulsions when you
see them?"
She grabbed up an eight-inch length of stick, perhaps two inches in diameter,
from the ground nearby and thrust it between Charlie's mindlessly snapping
jaws. The swamp otter's chisel teeth went through the wood as if it were a
twig. Mattie reached up blindly, pulled Cary's short gun from its holster, and
thrust the gun barrel between Charlie's jaws. The gleaming teeth clicked and
chewed on the metal, but could not cut it through. She reached in a finger
behind the barrel to pull Charlie's long, black tongue clear of his throat.
"Sleeping bags!" she cried. "Liners. Anything to wrap him in, Cary! We've got
to get him warm!"
Cary turned and jumped onto the raft. When he came back a moment later with
his arms full of bedding gear, Charlie was still convulsing. Dark blood had
begun to trickle from his nostrils, staining purple the lather and foamjust
below the nostrils. Together Mattie and Cary wrapped the twitching body
thickly in bedding and held the bedding in place with their arms in a cocoon
of warmth about Charlie.
Gradually, his convulsions became less violent. They slowed and became
intermittent. Finally, they dwindled to heavy shudders and then stopped
entirely. Charlie at last lay still, but his eyes were still closed and he
breathed heavily through his blood-encrusted nostrils.
Mattie met Cary's eyes and sat back, letting go of the bedding she and Cary
had been holding in place about the swamp otter. Cary let go also. Mattie
kneeling, Cary squatting, they looked across Charlie at each other.
"Nothing to do now but wait," said Mattie.
They got to their feet. With the automatic motions of habit, Cary set up the
wick-stove and made coffee. They sat drinking coffee and saying little while
the sun rose to noon overhead and started to lower toward the western horizon
beyond the other side of the river.
Charlie still lay, breathing heavily, his eyes closed, when they checked him
for perhaps the dozenth time.
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"When did he eat last that you know of?" Mattie asked Cary.
"Pool at the foot of the cliff," said Cary. "Unless he was in the water some
of the nights while we were sleeping. But I don't guess he was."
"I guess not," said Mattie. She reached out her hand, first over the area of
his bandaged shoulder, and then over the swollen side of Charlie's head where
the dead looper had struck him. "Feel."
Cary put out his own hand. Over both damaged areas, he could feel the
feverish heat radiated up against his palm.
"I don't suppose it'd make any difference, here or on the raft," said Mattie.
She glanced at the sun. "You suppose he'd want to move on?"
"Guess so," said Cary.
Mattie got to her feet.
"Then we'd better travel while the light lasts," she said.
10.
Cary looked at her, and she looked away from him. He nodded and got to his
feet.
"Sure," he said. "We'll get packed and moving."
He folded up the wick-stove, while Mattie took on board the raft the gear he
had left with her and which she had carried in from the bushes after Cary had
dropped it there to run to Charlie. Last of all, they carried Charlie gently
on a blanket-wrapped litter out to the raft and laid him on a soft pile of
bedding beside the statue. He showed no signs of knowing he was being moved.
His eyes were still closed, and his breathing sounded heavily. Cary shoved the
raft off from the bank once more into the main current of the broad, dark
river.
The day had begun bright, with only a few clouds. But during the morning a
haze had moved in, and by the time they were once more on their way, the haze
had been replaced by a cloud cover that was almost solid from horizon to
horizon. Under these clouds, the day itself seemed dulled, and all its sounds
muted. They went down the brown flow of water with hardly a gurgle, as Cary
moved the steering oar to avoid a floating deadhead or one of the occasional
rocks to break- the surface of the stream.
The grasslands they had crossed by oxen and travois were being left behind
them now. At first only in patches but then more solidly, the forest area
began to close in about both sides of the river. The forest here was barely
touched by human influence. Here and there a solitary variform oak could be
seen with its stiffly upright trunk and limbs stretched out at right angles to
the trunk's vertical line. But all around were bire and temp, sourbark, and
bushes of poison thorn. They all wound about with the great green hawsers of
midland vine and the heavy dull-purple bunches of the epiphytic char, that was
both blossom and fruit at once, clinging with invisible root filaments to the
rest of the vegetation on which it parasitically fed.
Page 64
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
As the sky darkened overhead with the clouds and the lowering sun, so the
forest darkened, closing in around the river on which they traveled. By nearly
sunset, shadow and dark color-the black and gray and deep brown of the trees
and the dusky purple of the char-surrounded them on every side. The woods were
strangely quiet after the insect-filled plains-only an occasional hooting or
whistling came from their depths.
"The loopers wouldn't like it here," said Mattie, unexpectedly.
Cary looked about him. It was true. Everyone knew that loopers found Arcadia
a drab, dark world compared to whatever they had been accustomed to on other
planets where men had settled. Mostly, on Arcadia, people born here figured
that the loopers' reaction was just another way of looking down their noses at
a new world struggling to pay off its first mortgage. But, watching the
surrounding forest now, Cary suddenly understood something of how the loopers
must feel.
It must look chill-like to them, he thought, something like this river and
forest-chill-like, sad-making, even fearful-a fearful, sorrowful sort of
place, with its duns and grays and blacks and heavy purples.
"You're likely right," he said to Mattie.
Just as he spoke, the sun-low on the horizon now, down behind the nearer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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grass in the soft earth of the river bank showed how he had gotten there. His
eyes were closed, his jaws were lathered in foam and snapped unceasingly, and
his body and limbs jerked and twitched with such force that he moved about on
the ground. The sharp odor that had accompanied his earlier violent outburst
against his own people when they had left the plateau was heavy in the air.
Cary dropped at the otter's side and tried to hold the jerking body still,
but it was too strong for him. He felt himself violently shoved aside. Looking
up, he saw Mattie, who knelt in his place beside Charlie.
"Convulsions!" Mattie snapped at him. "Don't you know convulsions when you
see them?"
She grabbed up an eight-inch length of stick, perhaps two inches in diameter,
from the ground nearby and thrust it between Charlie's mindlessly snapping
jaws. The swamp otter's chisel teeth went through the wood as if it were a
twig. Mattie reached up blindly, pulled Cary's short gun from its holster, and
thrust the gun barrel between Charlie's jaws. The gleaming teeth clicked and
chewed on the metal, but could not cut it through. She reached in a finger
behind the barrel to pull Charlie's long, black tongue clear of his throat.
"Sleeping bags!" she cried. "Liners. Anything to wrap him in, Cary! We've got
to get him warm!"
Cary turned and jumped onto the raft. When he came back a moment later with
his arms full of bedding gear, Charlie was still convulsing. Dark blood had
begun to trickle from his nostrils, staining purple the lather and foamjust
below the nostrils. Together Mattie and Cary wrapped the twitching body
thickly in bedding and held the bedding in place with their arms in a cocoon
of warmth about Charlie.
Gradually, his convulsions became less violent. They slowed and became
intermittent. Finally, they dwindled to heavy shudders and then stopped
entirely. Charlie at last lay still, but his eyes were still closed and he
breathed heavily through his blood-encrusted nostrils.
Mattie met Cary's eyes and sat back, letting go of the bedding she and Cary
had been holding in place about the swamp otter. Cary let go also. Mattie
kneeling, Cary squatting, they looked across Charlie at each other.
"Nothing to do now but wait," said Mattie.
They got to their feet. With the automatic motions of habit, Cary set up the
wick-stove and made coffee. They sat drinking coffee and saying little while
the sun rose to noon overhead and started to lower toward the western horizon
beyond the other side of the river.
Charlie still lay, breathing heavily, his eyes closed, when they checked him
for perhaps the dozenth time.
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"When did he eat last that you know of?" Mattie asked Cary.
"Pool at the foot of the cliff," said Cary. "Unless he was in the water some
of the nights while we were sleeping. But I don't guess he was."
"I guess not," said Mattie. She reached out her hand, first over the area of
his bandaged shoulder, and then over the swollen side of Charlie's head where
the dead looper had struck him. "Feel."
Cary put out his own hand. Over both damaged areas, he could feel the
feverish heat radiated up against his palm.
"I don't suppose it'd make any difference, here or on the raft," said Mattie.
She glanced at the sun. "You suppose he'd want to move on?"
"Guess so," said Cary.
Mattie got to her feet.
"Then we'd better travel while the light lasts," she said.
10.
Cary looked at her, and she looked away from him. He nodded and got to his
feet.
"Sure," he said. "We'll get packed and moving."
He folded up the wick-stove, while Mattie took on board the raft the gear he
had left with her and which she had carried in from the bushes after Cary had
dropped it there to run to Charlie. Last of all, they carried Charlie gently
on a blanket-wrapped litter out to the raft and laid him on a soft pile of
bedding beside the statue. He showed no signs of knowing he was being moved.
His eyes were still closed, and his breathing sounded heavily. Cary shoved the
raft off from the bank once more into the main current of the broad, dark
river.
The day had begun bright, with only a few clouds. But during the morning a
haze had moved in, and by the time they were once more on their way, the haze
had been replaced by a cloud cover that was almost solid from horizon to
horizon. Under these clouds, the day itself seemed dulled, and all its sounds
muted. They went down the brown flow of water with hardly a gurgle, as Cary
moved the steering oar to avoid a floating deadhead or one of the occasional
rocks to break- the surface of the stream.
The grasslands they had crossed by oxen and travois were being left behind
them now. At first only in patches but then more solidly, the forest area
began to close in about both sides of the river. The forest here was barely
touched by human influence. Here and there a solitary variform oak could be
seen with its stiffly upright trunk and limbs stretched out at right angles to
the trunk's vertical line. But all around were bire and temp, sourbark, and
bushes of poison thorn. They all wound about with the great green hawsers of
midland vine and the heavy dull-purple bunches of the epiphytic char, that was
both blossom and fruit at once, clinging with invisible root filaments to the
rest of the vegetation on which it parasitically fed.
Page 64
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
As the sky darkened overhead with the clouds and the lowering sun, so the
forest darkened, closing in around the river on which they traveled. By nearly
sunset, shadow and dark color-the black and gray and deep brown of the trees
and the dusky purple of the char-surrounded them on every side. The woods were
strangely quiet after the insect-filled plains-only an occasional hooting or
whistling came from their depths.
"The loopers wouldn't like it here," said Mattie, unexpectedly.
Cary looked about him. It was true. Everyone knew that loopers found Arcadia
a drab, dark world compared to whatever they had been accustomed to on other
planets where men had settled. Mostly, on Arcadia, people born here figured
that the loopers' reaction was just another way of looking down their noses at
a new world struggling to pay off its first mortgage. But, watching the
surrounding forest now, Cary suddenly understood something of how the loopers
must feel.
It must look chill-like to them, he thought, something like this river and
forest-chill-like, sad-making, even fearful-a fearful, sorrowful sort of
place, with its duns and grays and blacks and heavy purples.
"You're likely right," he said to Mattie.
Just as he spoke, the sun-low on the horizon now, down behind the nearer [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]