esembled a small seal, but had
six legs, ending in strong claws.
"Arg, go fish!" said Polecrab hoarsely.
The animal immediately tumbled off the bank into the water. It swam
gracefully to the middle of the creek and made a pivotal dive beneath
the surface, where it remained a great while.
"Simple fishing," remarked Maskull. "But what's the raft for?"
"To go to sea with. The best fish are out at sea. These are eatable."
"That arg seems a highly intelligent creature."
Polecrab grunted again. "I've trained close on a hundred of them. The
bigheads learn best, but they're slow swimmers. The narrowheads
swim like eels, but can't be taught. Now I've started interbreeding
them--he's one of them."
"Do you live here alone?"
"No, I've got a wife and three boys. My wife's sleeping somewhere, but
where the lads are, Shaping knows."
Maskull began to feel very much at home with this unsophisticated being.
"The raft's all crazy," he remarked, staring at it. "If you go far out
in that, you've got more pluck than I have."
"I've been to Matterplay on it," said Polecrab.
The arg reappeared and started swimming to shore, but this time
clumsily, as if it were bearing a heavy weight under the surface. When
it landed at its master's feet, they saw that each set of claws was
clutching a fish--six in all. Polecrab took them from it. He proceeded
to cut off the heads and tails with a sharp-edged stone which he picked
up; these he threw to the arg, which devoured them without any fuss.
Polecrab beckoned to Maskull to follow him and, carrying the fish,
walked toward the open shore, by the same way that he had come. When
they reached the sands, he sliced the fish, removed the entrails, and
digging a shallow hole in a patch of violet sand, placed the remainder
of the carcasses in it, and covered them over again. Then he dug up his
own dinner. Maskull's nostrils quivered at the savoury smell, but he was
not yet to dine.
Polecrab, turning to go with the cooked fish in his hands, said, "These
are mine, not yours. When yours are done, you can come back and join me,
supposing you want company."
"How soon will that be?"
"About twenty minutes," replied the fisherman, over his shoulder.
Maskull sheltered himself in the shadows of the forest, and waited. When
the time had approximately elapsed, he disinterred his meal, scorching
his fingers in the operation, although it was only the surface of the
sand which was so intense
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