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r old Fallon's retirement； he got so elated that he ran down to the misty plains letting gravity yank him headlong； yelling as he leaped from one teetering foothold to the next。
There was none of that now。 No exhilaration。 No contest of youth and skill against Jijo's ardent hug。 This was a sober affair； coaxing a dozen heavily laden donkeys over patches of unsteady footing； using patient firmness to overe the animals' frequent bouts of stubbornness。 He wondered how Urrish traders made it look so easy； guiding their pack trains with shrill； clipped whistles。
And they say these things e from Earth？ he wondered； dragging yet another donkey out of trouble。 Dwer wasn't warm to the idea of being a close genetic cousin to such creatures。
Then there were the human charges he must also shepherd into the wilderness。
In fairness； it could have been worse。 Danel Ozawa was an experienced forester； and the two women were strong； with their own unique skills。 Still； nothing back on the tame Slope pared to this kind of trekking。 Dwer found himself frequently moving up and down the train； helping his panions out of jams。
He wasn't sure which unnerved him more； the stolid indifference of Lena Strong or the gawky friendliness of Jenin Worley； frequently catching his eye with a shy smile。 They had been obvious choices； since Jenin and Lena were already at Gathering to lobby for their 〃tourism〃 idea…hoping to enlist Dwer's help； and approval from the sages； to start taking groups of 〃sight…seers〃 over the Rimmers。
In other words； bright people with too much time on their hands； overly influenced by notions they found in old Earth books。
I was going to fight it。 Even same…sex groups risked violating the anti…sooner covenant。
But now…I'm part of a scheme to break the law I'm sworn to uphold。
He couldn't help glancing repeatedly at the two women； the same way they were surely appraising him。
They sure looked。。。 healthy。
You're a true wild man now。 Learn to prize the honest virtues of wild females。
There would be women in the Gray Hills； too； but Rety said most of them began childbirth at fourteen。 Few kept more than half their teeth past age thirty。
There was supposed to be a second group of volunteer exiles from the Slope； following behind this one。 For their sake； Dwer smeared dabs of porl paste on prominent landmarks every half a midura or so； blazing a trail any moderately petent Jijoan could follow； but that should be untraceable by Galactic raiders or their all…seeing machinery。
Dwer would rather be home at the bitter end； preparing to fight hopelessly against the aliens； alongside other militia soldiers of the Six。 But no one was better qualified to lead this expedition to the Gray Hills； and he had given Danel his word。
So now I'm a tour…guide； after all； he thought。
If only he felt sure it was right。
What are we doing？ Fleeing to another place we don't belong； just like our sinner ancestors？ It made Dwer's head ache to think about such things。 Just please don't let Lark find out what I'm doing。 It'd break his bean。
The trek grew a little easier when they spilled off the mountain onto a high steppe。 But unlike his other expeditions； this time Dwer turned south； toward a rolling domain of bitter yellow grass。 Soon they were stomping through a prairie of calf…high shoots； whose florets had sharp tips； forcing the humans…and even the donkeys…to wear leather leggings for protection。
No one plained； or even murmured disfort。 Danel and the others took his guidance without question； wiping sweat from their hat brims and collars as they slogged alongside the stolid donkeys。 Fortunately； scattered oases of real forest helped Dwer pilot the pany from one water source to the next； leaving markers for the next group。
Rety must've been dogged to cross all this； chasing after her damn bird。
Dwer had suggested waiting for the girl。 〃She's your real guide；〃 he had told Danel。
〃Not true；〃 Ozawa demurred。 〃Would you trust her advice？ She might steer us wrong in some misguided gesture to protect her loved ones。〃
Or to avoid ever seeing them again。 Still； Dwer wished Rety had made it back in time to depart with this group。 He kind of missed her； sullen sarcasm and all。
He called a halt at a large oasis； more than an hour before sunset。 〃The mountains will cut off daylight early；〃 he told the others。 Westward； the peaks were already surrounded by a nimbus of yellow…orange。 〃You three should clear the water hole； tend the animals； and set up camp。〃
〃And where are you going？〃 Lena Strong asked sharply； mopping her brow。
Dwer strapped on his hip quiver。 〃To see about shooting some supper。〃
She gestured at the sterile…looking steppe。 〃What； here？〃
〃It's worth a try； Lena；〃 Danel said； slashing at some yellow grass with a stick。 〃With the donkeys unable to eat this stuff； our grain must last till we hit hill country； where they can forage。 A little meat for the four of us could help a lot。〃
Dwer didn't bother adding anything to that。 He set out down one of the narrow critter byways threading the spiky grass。 It was some distance before he managed to put the donkey stench behind him； as well as the penetrating murmur of his panions' voices。
It's a bad idea to be noisy when the universe is full of things tougher than you are。 But that never stopped humans； did it？
He sniffed the air and watched the sway of thigh…high grass。 In this kind of prairie； it was even more imperative to hunt upwind not only because of scent； but so the breeze might help hinder the racket of your own trampling feet from reaching the quarry…in this case a covey of bush quaile he sensed pecking and scratching； a dozen or so meters ahead。
Dwer nocked an arrow and stepped as stealthfully as he could； breathing shallowly； until he picked out soft chittering sounds amid the brushing stems。。。 a tiny ruckus of claws scratching sandy loam。。。 sharp beaks pecking for seeds。。。 a gentle； motherly cluck。。。 answering peeps as hatchlings sought a feathery breast。。。 the faint puffs of junior adults； relaying news from the periphery that all is well。 All is well。
One of the sentries abruptly changed its muted report。 A breath of tentative alarm。 Dwer stooped to make his profile lower and kept stock still。 Fortunately； the twilight shadows were deepest to his back。 If only he could manage to keep from spooking them for a few more。。。
A sudden crashing motion sent four…winged shapes erupting into the air。 Another predator； Dwer realized； raising his bow。 While most of the quaile scattered swiftly across the grasstops and vanished； a few spiraled back to swoop over the intruder； distracting it from the brood…mother and her chicks。 Dwer loosed arrows in rapid succession； downing one； then another of the guardians。
The ruckus ended as swiftly as it began。 Except for a trampled area； the patch of steppe looked as if nothing had happened。
Dwer shouldered his bow and pulled out his machete。 In principle； nothing that could hide under grass should be much of a threat to him； except perhaps a root scorpion。 But there were legends of strange； nasty bea