Part 23 (1/2)

”Hey!” yelled Don. ”Look out. Gersal!” He started forward in a half run, his staff poised for a blow.

The other jumped sideways but the furry body grazed his leg and spun, claws and teeth working furiously. The man looked down and screamed.

Don's staff came down in a chopping blow and the animal bounced out onto the open path. Its paws raised little spurts of dust as it spun about and prepared for another spring.

Again, Don's staff swung down. The gersal flopped about for an instant in the dust of the path, then faced toward him, an angry scream coming from its throat.

Again, it tried to get its balance for a spring, but one hind leg dragged limply. Again, the staff swung, tumbling the beast over in the dust.

There was a flurry of paws and the gersal struggled up to its haunches, then sat up, its brilliant red eyes fixed on Don. It stretched out short forelegs in seeming supplication, then batted futilely at the punching staff end.

Disregarding the pleading att.i.tude of the beast, Don continued to punch at the squirming body till it was obvious that no vestige of life could remain. Then, he looked at the other man.

The fellow had managed to get to the center of the path before he had collapsed. He half sat, half lay against his pack, breathing raggedly.

Sweat stood out on his forehead. He looked at Don vaguely, making an obvious effort to focus his eyes.

”Thanks ... Friend,” he mumbled. ”You tried---- Oooh!” He closed his eyes and stiffened, his legs stretching out and his back arching.

The men who walked ahead had been attracted by the commotion. They came back and one jerked off his pack and bent over the man in the path. He looked over at the dead animal, then glanced up at Don.

”How many times was he bitten?”

”I doubt if he got more than one,” Don told him.

The other nodded and looked searchingly at the victim. Then, he reached into his clothing and removed a small packet. He opened it and pulled the protective cover off a syrette.

”There's a small chance, then,” he remarked. He poked the needle of the syrette into the sufferer's forearm and squeezed the tube.

The stricken man moved convulsively and opened one eye. His companion nodded.

”You might make it, Delm,” he said cautiously. ”Only one bite, and we got to you soon.” He nodded.

”If you can hang on for just five minutes, you'll walk the trail again.” He looked up at Don.

”That was quick action,” he said. ”You may have saved our clan brother.” He looked down at the torn place on the man's leg.

”A couple of more bites, and he'd surely be dead by now.” He got to his feet.

”Whom do we have to thank?”

Don looked down at the path in apparent discomfort.

”I am Kalo,” he said, ”of the mountains.”

The other's eyes clouded. ”Oh,” he said tonelessly. He looked down at his companion, then back at the dead animal.

”Well,” he said slowly, ”we are grateful, Clanless One. Go your way in peace. We will take care of our brother.”

Don started to turn away. ”I hope he----”