"Nothing!" Dily's voiced her disappointment. "Earl, there's nothing!"

Game trails, which his eye could see even in the dusk. Places which could conceal, timber which could make huts and fires, brush adaptable to protective stockades, and water which could be navigated, given craft which strong hands and sharp stones could build. A world in which men could live given the determination. But she saw nothing.

"No houses," she said dully. "No roads. No animals. No signs of life. A wilderness. It's a damned wilderness!"

"Easy." Dumarest caught her by the arm, his fingers relaying a warm comfort. "Just take it easy. Ask Bochner to start a fire and make some sort of a camp." It would give them both something to do. "Find some rocks and make sure they aren't harboring snakes. The night will bring wind, so bear that in mind. Come now!" He smiled and lifted up her chin. "Look on the bright side. There could be swamps or desert down there. Salt flats or marsh. Remember that place you spoke of on Swenna? Your land? Is it so different?"

"No," she admitted. "I guess not."

"Then why the disappointment? It should be like coming home."

But on Swenna there would be a town and neighbors, and even if they weren't close, they would be there and within contact range. Now she felt as if no one else but themselves existed on this entire planet. That they had crashed to live as best they might, to live and die without ever seeing the civilization she had known. The ships and towns and busy places. The markets and communes and the sound of eager voices.

Bochner said, "Gather fuel, woman. Get it while there is still light to see. And watch for snakes and things which could bite." His smile was ugly, that of a predator enjoying the moment before the kill. "Come now, move!"

The tone of command, which she had heard so often as a child and had never learned to like. For a moment she faced him, tempted to challenge his assumption that she would obey, to take him, hold him, use her hands to crush out his life. A moment only, then she recognized the weakness which made her less than the hunter. Sometimes, at rare intervals, she could overcome it, but always there had to be the stimulus. Now it was easier to turn and move off to gather dried grasses and broken twigs, patches of moss and windblown debris which would burn.

Egulus said, "Here, Earl? It's as high as we're going to get unless we head for those mountains."

"Here." Dumarest looked at the sun, the sea bathed in washes of color, swaths of warm and enticing hue which matched and augmented the splendor of the sky. "But not yet. Wait until its well after dark. We don't want to fight the sun more than we have to."

"After dark," agreed the captain. "We've three good, strong bursts, Earl. Shall I send them out quickly, one after the other, or space them out?"

"Space them through the night. Send the last at dawn. Wait, then use what power is left to do what you can."

"And if we get no response?" Egulus sucked at his lips as Dumarest made no answer. "Maybe I can pick up something by switching to reception. No luck so far, but the hills could have blocked the signal. At least we might get a line as to the whereabouts of the field."

And if not they could, perhaps, see ships coming in to land. Others leaving-if they were on the right hemisphere.

Darkness brought a chill wind, which caught at the fire and sent the flames dancing to paint the area in shifting patterns of light. From the shadowed savannah, something cried out with a harsh, grating sound quickly ended. A beast falling to the claws and fangs of a predator or the mating call of an animal in heat. It was not repeated and Dumarest, standing watch, guessed the former to be the most likely explanation.

He turned as Bochner came towards him. The hunter looked at the cold gleam of the knife lifted towards him and smiled.

"I could have killed you, Earl, had I wanted."

"Perhaps."

"You imply doubt. There is no doubt. I could have been on you before you knew it. A move. A single blow and you would be dead, now." The hunter drew in his breath, released it with a soft inhalation. "My friend, I am a practical man and know you are, also. What if rescue does not arrive?"

"We live."

"Of course, but how? I mean in what manner? Three men and only one woman-you recognize the problem? The captain, I think, can be left out of the equation, but there is still you and me. Frankly, the need of a woman is, to me, only a minor irritation, but there is a question of principle. Of precedence. You understand?"

Dumarest remembered the cry he had heard-death sending its warning. Was he listening to another? Had he received it?

Against the glow of the fire the hunter's face was in shadow, the light which delineated his stance masking his expression, but there were things the shadows couldn't hide. The scent which came from him; the odor born of released adrenalin, of pulsing blood, of muscular tension and glandular secretions all designed to lift and hold the body to a fighting pitch. Odors Dumarest had smelled before when facing men in the arena. The stench which came through oil and sweat and which usually held the taint of fear. A taint now absent.

Bochner said again, "You understand?"

"Yes," said Dumarest. "I understand."

"And the woman?"

"Will make her own choice."

"I don't think so."

Dumarest looked at the shape limned in the firelight, the shadowed face in which reflected starlight betrayed the eyes. "I can't agree."

"So?"

"I think that as you're so wakeful you can take over the watch. Arguments can wait until later." He added dryly, "And don't worry, I won't creep up on you in the dark."

Dawn came with splinters of light and a wind which dropped as the day grew older. Dilys, refreshed by her sleep, tried to wash her face and hair in the dew which assuaged their thirst. Too little and too hard to collect, tantalizing rather than satisfying. When she complained, Dumarest waved at the savannah.

"We're too high for water up here. It's all running to lower levels."

"Why can't we wait down there?"

"Smoke." He looked at the fire. "Down lower it will be masked against the hills. Up here, it can be seen for miles."

The obvious, which she had overlooked. Irritably, she began to pile the remaining fuel on the embers.

"Save that until later," advised Dumarest, "until the morning winds have died. And if we're going to keep it fed, we'll need more fuel."

They descended to find it, dropping down the landward slope to gather and haul ferns and branches, twigs, roots, dried stems and saplings to be piled beside the fire. Dumarest downed a scurrying shape with his thrown knife and Bochner tried to emulate the feat. His blade pierced a leg and sent the rodent, screaming, to bite at the steel. Screams which died as he broke the creature's neck, but he was not pleased. Dumarest had killed clean at twice the distance.

"A dangerous man, that," said Egulus when, later, he watched with Dumarest beside the fire. Fed with the remaining scraps of available plastic, it threw an ebon column into the sky. "I saw his face when he realized you had bested him. He can't stand to be beaten at anything. I've known men like that before. I suppose, in a way, I was one myself. What I wanted, I had to get. I did, too-but that's over now. The Entil is gone."

"What do you know of him?"

"Leo Bochner?" The captain shrugged. "Nothing. He wanted passage and could pay for it. What else was there for me to know? You must have learned more about him than I did?"

A man who had boarded with expensive equipment; weapons and items of price, to be expected from a successful hunter and the representative of a wealthy consortium. His luggage was gone now, dumped with the rest of the jettisoned weight, and he had not protested. That, in itself, was unusual. In Dumarest's experience, the wealthy hated to lose their possessions; few were realistic enough to accept the necessity for sacrifice.