further up for its own crossing--and did not pick him up
again until just before he crossed back. Now, however, he had been
immobile for several minutes. This looked like about as good a time as
any to make the pickup. The Harn had a stinging unit just about
positioned, and it had dispatched a carrier to stand by._

After a while, sitting there, Ed began to feel uneasy. The timber was
big here, and open underneath, almost parklike. The nearest cover was
fifty or sixty yards off to his left, a little tangle of brush where a
tree had fallen and let a shaft of sunlight through.

It looked possible, but it didn't feel quite right. Still, it was about
the only place anything big enough to bother him could hide. The feeling
was getting stronger, the back hairs on Ed's neck were starting to stand
up now. Without visible movement, or even noticing himself that he was
doing it, he let awareness run over his body, checking the position and
stiffness of his legs--he had been sitting there quite a while--the
balance of the gun across his knees, the nearness of his thumb to the
hammer.

Thoughtfully, still studying the patch of brush, he spat a thin stream
over his left shoulder at a pile of leaves a few feet away.

Thinking about it later, Ed could almost have sworn the tobacco juice
sizzled as it hit. Actually, this was probably imaginary. The stinging
unit was not that sensitive to tobacco, though it was sensitive enough.
As the drops splattered it, the pile of leaves erupted with a snuffling
hiss like an overloaded teakettle into a tornado of bucking, twisting
activity.

Ed's reflexes were not quite as fast as they had been when he was young,
but they were better educated. Also, he was already keyed-up. Almost as
it started, the flurry in the leaves stopped with the roar of his rifle.
Fired like that, the heavy gun just about took his hand off, but he did
not notice it at the moment. He came erect in a quick scramble, jacking
in a fresh round as he did so. The scene took on that strange timeless
aspect it often does in moments of emergency, with a man's whole being
focused on the fleeting _now_--you know, in an academic sort of way,
that things are moving fast, you are moving fast yourself, but there
seems plenty of time to make decisions, to look things over and decide
what has to be done, to move precisely, with minimum effort and maximum
effect.

Whatever the thing at his feet was, it was out of the picture now--it
had