etting the canoe, not when Thorvald was an expert who could
easily finish off a fumbling opponent.

Shann swam wearily to shore where the wolverines waited, unable yet to
make sense of that attack in the lagoon. What had happened to Thorvald?
What motive had led the other to leave Shann and the animals on this
island, the island Thorvald had called a starting point in his search
for the natives of Warlock? Or had every bit of that tall tale been
invented by the Survey officer for some obscure purpose of his own,
certainly no sane purpose? Against that logic Shann could only set the
carved disk, and he had only Thorvald's word that that had been
discovered here.

He dragged himself out of the water on his hands and knees and lay,
winded and gasping. Taggi came to lick his face, nuzzle him, making a
small, bewildered whimpering. While above, the leather-headed birds
called and swooped, fearful and angry for their disturbed nesting place.
The Terran retched, coughed up water, and then sat up to look around.

The spread of lagoon was bare. Thorvald must have rounded the south
point of land and be very close to the reef passage, perhaps through it
by now. Not stopping for his clothes, Shann started up the slope,
crawling part of the way on his hands and knees.

He reached the crest again and got to his feet. The sun made an
eye-dazzling glitter of the waves. But under the shade of his hands
Shann saw the canoe again, beyond the reef, heading on out along the
island chain, not back to shore as he had expected. Thorvald was still
on the hunt, but for what? A reality which existed, or a dream in his
own disturbed brain?

Shann sat down. He was very hungry, for that adventure in the lagoon had
sapped his strength. And he was a prisoner along with the wolverines, a
prisoner on an island which was half the size of the valley which held
the Survey camp. As far as he knew, his only supply of drinkable water
was that tank of evil-smelling rain which would be speedily evaporated
by a sun such as the one now beating down on him. And between him and
the shore was the sea, a sea which harbored such creatures as the
fork-tail he had watched die.

Thorvald was still steadily on course, not to the next island in the
chain, a small, bare knob, but to the one beyond that. He could have
been hurrying to a meeting. Where and with what?

Shann got to his feet, started down to the beach once more, sure now
that the officer had no intentio