hich
sometimes grew into the flood. In this country winter still clung
tenaciously in shadowy places with cups of leftover snow, and there was
a bite in the wind and water. Ross rose to his knees with an involuntary
gasp as a scream cut through the night. He wrenched around toward the
camp, only to feel McNeil's hand clamp on his forearm.

"That was a donkey," whispered McNeil urgently. "Come on, let's go down
to that ford we discovered!"

They turned south, daring now to trot, half bent to the ground. The
river was swollen with spring floods which were only now beginning to
subside, but two days earlier they had noticed a sandbar at one spot. By
crossing that shelf across the bed, they might hope to put water between
them and the unknown enemy tonight. It would give them a breathing
space, even though Ross privately shrank from the thought of plowing
into the stream. He had seen good-sized trees swirling along in the
current only yesterday. And to make such a dash in the dark....

From McNeil's throat burst a startling sound which Ross had last heard
in Britain--the questing howl of a hunting wolf. The cry was answered
seconds later from downstream.

"Ashe!"

They worked their way along the edge of the water with continued care,
until they came upon Ashe at last, so much a part of his background that
Ross started when the lump he had taken for a bush hunched forward to
join them. Together they made the river crossing and turned south again
to head for the mountains. It was then that disaster struck.

Ross heard no birdcall warning this time. Though he was on guard, he
never sensed the approach of the man who struck him down from behind.
One moment he had been trailing McNeil and Ashe; the next moment was
black nothingness.

He was aware of a throb of pain which carried throughout his body and
then localized in his head. Forcing open his eyes, the dazzle of light
was like a spear point striking directly into his head, intensifying his
pain to agony. He brought his hand up to his face and felt stickiness
there.

"Assha--" He believed he called that aloud, but he did not even hear his
own voice. They were in a valley; a wolf had attacked him out of the
bushes. Wolf? No, the wolf was dead, but then it came alive again to
howl on a river bank.

Ross forced his eyes open once more, enduring the pain of beams he
recognized as sunshine. He turned his head to avoid the glare. It was
hard to focus, but he fought to s