Deyv had managed to glimpse inside the stockade just before the attack. When they had slid into a muddy stream, he said, "Those people have tied the Yawtl to the man he killed and hoisted both from the arm of a pole. I didn't see the bag with the eggs."

"Then it could be anywhere."

"It might be in the shaman's hut. That's the biggest one, and it's in the center of the village."

"Perhaps we could get over the wall and sneak around to it while the black people are busy with the

Yawtl."

"That's no good," Deyv said. "The villagers have dogs. They'd smell us if we were anywhere near. In fact, I'm surprised they didn't smell us when we were on the tree."

"The tree is so close to the village they must be used to the stink."

They left the creek. About the only effect the bathing had was to clear the immediate area of fish, amphibians, and snakes. No, there was another. The flies were no longer crawling over them.

"If they would go to sleep, we could do something," Vana said. "But we'd have to do it quickly. The dogs might be used to roach odor coming from the tree, but they'd notice at once if we got within the stockade."

Deyv said, "You know, we really don't have to do anything now. All we have to do is wait. After they've tortured and killed the Yawtl, they'll go back to normal living. We can hang around and watch them.

When our chance comes, we'll strike."

"That might not be so easy. The longer we're here, the more chance we give them to discover us. I think we ought to hit now. They'll be very excited and preoccupied with the Yawtl, so they won't be as alert as usual."

Dew thought about this. Then Vana said, "Besides, I'm afraid that I might lose my courage. I'm keyed up now. But hiding in the jungle and watching them could cool me off. I'd see so many reasons not to take a chance that I'd get too cautious."

"You could be right. Anyway, if we don't succeed this time, and we escape, we can always come back later."

"I don't know how long I can endure it without my soul egg. I don't know about you, but the emptiness and the meaninglessness increase all the time. There are times when I think I'll just sit down and die. Get the horror over with."

For the first time, Deyv looked at Vana with genuine sympathy. It was so powerful that it came close to empathy.

He rose and said, "In any event, we have to watch them. So let's go." He took her hand and pulled her up. At the same time, despite his surge of feeling for her a moment ago, he thought, She's an eater of human corpses.

He could never marry her or even lie with her. But that didn't mean that he couldn't like her—to some extent, anyway. If she were a male cannibal, she could be his friend. So why should her being a woman make a difference?

For some undefinable reason, it did.

Some time later, they were on a branch high up in a tree. This was reachless, though it did have some tiny pesky ants. They could see everything within the stockade. It looked as if almost the entire population was getting drunk. The exceptions were the dogs, chickens, pigs, the four guards, and the

Yawti. Even the children, babies at the breast, were being plied with alcohol. In addition, a bonfire in front of the shaman's house was covered from time to time with some kind of plant This burned, emitting a greenish smoke through which the people walked slowly from time to time. Evidently, they were breathing it in. And they found it even more exhilarating than the liquor.

Neither Deyv nor Vana knew what the plant was. It certainly wasn't anything like the drugs their tribes used.

At each corner of the square stockade wall was a roofed platform holding a guard. Ladders led from each guard post to the grounds inside the stockade. The guards were, aside from the prisoner, the only unhappy ones in the village. They didn't like it at all that they couldn't join in the celebration. Deyv wished that they could. It would make it easier for him and Vana to get over the walls.

In the middle of the open square was a tall vertical post, across the top of which was a shorter post. From one arm of the T, two ropes had been attached. The other ends of the ropes held the dead man by his waist and the Yawtl by his. The latter was face to face with the corpse, his wrists bound to its. His toes were just touching the ground.

So far, only the children were allowed to touch the Yawtl. Encouraged by their laughing elders, they beat on his legs and buttocks with light sticks or threw mud and pig dung at him. Once, a toddler drenched him with the liquor, but he was reprimanded for wasting it.

As time went by, the drummers and flutists fell into rhythms of their own, each wrapped up in his small tight world, ignoring or unaware that he was out of beat with the others. The shaman's dance became a series of staggers, and the bullroarer he'd been whirling above his head sometimes struck the ground. A

woman fell into the fire and had to be dragged out. She was lucky that anyone noticed her.

"I'm glad that smoke isn't blowing our way," Deyv said. "If it was, we'd probably fall out of the tree."

They munched fruit and brushed off the ants. Jum and Aejip waited patiently at the foot of the tree. One by one, sometimes by twos, the tribespeople dropped off. The children were first. Then the men and women. The shaman kept up the travesty of a dance, stumbling over bodies, laughing, striking the fallen with the bull-roarer. Perhaps it was the exercise that kept him going after everybody else was out. But the time came when he could go no longer. He toppled while breathing in the greenish smoke.

Deyv, coining down the tree, saw this just before the top of the stockade cut off his line of sight.

When they got to the edge of the open area, Deyv ordered Jum and Aejip to wait. He planned to return to this spot, where the animals could ambush any pursuers.

The guard nearest them had been looking outward. It seemed a futile duty. If he did see attackers and gave a warning, he'd be able to alert only the other sentinels. Ten warriors could have taken the village easily and butchered the sleepers at leisure. Deyv left Vana and circled the open area, keeping behind the foliage, until he was opposite her. Then, summoning up his courage, he stepped out. Vana came out of the bush a second later.

He had expected to be seen at once, but just as he emerged he saw the two guards on his end of the stockade turn away. They were shouting and gesturing with their spears at something inside the walls.

The dogs were barking as if they'd cornered a tree-lion.

DEYV didn't know what was causing the agitation. He didn't care. This was a lucky break which he was going to take advantage of. Holding his blowgun in one hand, he sped toward the stockade. Through the dim light he could see Vana's white body, her legs moving, a long blowgun in one hand. They'd planned to dash up and shoot the nearest guards with the poison darts. If they missed, they'd have to dodge some thrown spears. But they might be able to entice the two guards to pursue them.

If that happened, which really wasn't likely, Deyv would lead them to Aejip and Jum. Or if one took off after Vana, he would have to follow her into the jungle, if he was foolish enough to do so. Vana could get him with her dart then.

The plan had a lot of if's, all fueled by desperation. It wasn't hopeless, though, because there were only four men to deal with. And now the gods favored him. For a little while, anyway. He didn't ask for any more time than that.

The guard nearest him disappeared, going down the ladder inside. The others, however, stayed at their posts. They didn't see Deyv or Vana. Their attention was fixed on whatever was going on below. Deyv shifted his blowgun to his left hand and removed the coil of rope from his shoulder. When he got to the corner of the stockade, he threw its loop up. It caught on the pointed end of a log, and he tightened it