I let out my breath. Ulzai came into view, limping down the muddy trail, a spear in one hand. “I told you people to stay put. I got back, and no one was there except the little man. I went to find you. What did I discover? Your trail going off in the wrong direction! Are you crazy? Or merely a fool?”

“A fool,” I said.

He barked. “It is good that you know what you are. Many people do not. This path leads into a marsh. There are lizards.”

“I know. I saw one just before you came. On the path where you are standing.”

He looked down at the mud in front of him. “I see. It wasn’t big. An animal that size will not attack a full-grown person. You were in no danger. Come on.”

By the time we reached the river, the western half of the sky was clear. The sun shone brilliantly. Nia had spread her tunic on the canoe. She lay on the sand on her back, one arm over her eyes. Derek sat close by. “I’ve been watching the river. There are big fish out there. I think I’ll make a fishing pole.”

“A what?” asked Ulzai.

The word that Derek had used meant—in common usage—a tent pole or the pole of a standard.

“What do you think I said?” asked Derek.

“That you wanted to make a tent for fishes. Or else—” Ulzai frowned. “That you wanted to set up a standard with a fish on top. Is that the animal of your lineage?”

“My animal lives in salt water,” Derek said. “It looks like a fish, but it isn’t one. The name for it is ‘whale.’ ”

Ulzai grunted.

“What I meant to say is—I want to go fishing. I use a pole.”

Nia said, “He does. I have seen him.”

Ulzai looked interested. “In the marshes the women use nets to catch fish. The men use spears. And when I came up the river, I met people who use baskets and walls made of woven branches. The walls guide the fish into a trap. The baskets are the trap. But I have never heard of anyone using a tent pole.”

Derek got up. “I need a branch. It has to be long and straight and flexible. Can you find me anything like that?”

Ulzai made the gesture of affirmation.

“Take care of the radio, will you?” Derek said.

“Yes. What did Eddie say?”

“The plane is coming down the day after tomorrow. Eddie expects us to be at the lake in three days. He’s been able to stall the big discussion till then. He wants us to participate—not in the flesh, of course. We’ll be in quarantine. But we can address the multitudes via holovision. He assumes that we are going to back him. We are going to have to make a choice, Lixia. Which side are we on?”

I made the gesture of uncertainty.

“You talk too much,” Ulzai said. “And too many of the words you use are strange. Come on.”

“Ulzai certainly likes to tell people what to do,” said Nia. She yawned. “Aiya! It is comfortable in the sun. I think I will sleep.”

I looked at the river. Nia began to snore. The clouds kept moving east until most of the sky was clear.

The two men came back. Derek had his branch and a coil of fishing line.

“How is the oracle?” I asked.

“Tired. His arm hurts. He’s eaten all the fruit.”

“Hu!”

“Uh-huh.” Derek tied the line to the pole, then tied on a hook. He bit off the extra piece of poly and spat it out, then bent and picked it up. “We can’t leave souvenirs of a higher culture.” He stuck the poly into a pocket of his shirt and reached into the other pocket, pulling out a grub. It was fat and yellow. He slid the hook into the animal. It wriggled. I looked away.

Ulzai, I noticed, watched everything with interest. Nia continued to snore.

Derek reached into his pocket again and pulled out a lead weight, which he pressed into place on the line. “Fortunately, this is a metal-rich planet. If I lose the weight, it isn’t likely to influence the course of history. But I’d better not lose the line. The Unity knows what would happen if these savages discovered polypropylene.”

Ulzai frowned. “I can understand only half of what you are saying.”

“They always talk like this,” said Nia. She sat up. Her fur was dry. It shone copper-red-brown. “It makes me angry. I have told them. They keep on the same way as before.”

“I’m going down the beach,” said Derek. “There’s an eddy that looks interesting close to shore. In reach of this damn rig, I think. I wish I’d brought a folding rod with me, and a good spinning reel. I could have figured out a way to smuggle them down.” He looked at Ulzai. “I may have to wade in the water. Is that going to be dangerous?”

“No. The lizards do not come to this side of the island. Not often, anyway. They like slow water. The river bottom goes down steeply here and the current is swift. Be careful. If you catch anything with your tent pole, bury the guts on land. Never put anything bloody in the water. The lizards will taste the blood and come.”

“Okay,” said Derek.

“What about my lizard?” I asked. “The one I saw? It was on this side of the island.”

“It was on land,” said Ulzai. “When it goes back into the water, it will find a place where the bottom is shallow and the current barely moves. I know these animals. They do not have the courage of the umazi.”

Derek left us, going along the shore. He stopped and looked at the river, his head tilted, considering something not visible to me—the eddy, and waded into the water, swinging the long pole out. The line dropped in. He lifted the pole a little, then stood motionless. The rest of us watched him. Nothing happened.

“He knows how to keep still,” Ulzai said at last. “All good hunters do.”

Nia made the gesture of agreement, got up, and put on her tunic, the one that had belonged to Inahooli. It was wrinkled and there were stains on it. We were all looking pretty ratty.

“Atcha,” said Ulzai.

The pole was bending. Derek had changed his grip. He was holding on tightly now. The pole bent more. He waded out a little farther.

“Be careful,” called Ulzai.

The fish was going down.

No! It came out of the water in front of Derek: a long, dark body that twisted in midair and fell back into the river. Splat!The pole bent again.

“A good-sized fish,” said Ulzai. “But it isn’t worth catching. That kind is full of bones. And the flavor.” He made the gesture that meant “it could be worse.”

Derek lifted the pole. The fish must be rising. Yes! It jumped again, flashing in the sunlight, and fell. Derek lowered the pole. The fish ran toward the center of the river. The line gleamed, visible for a moment. I saw the tension in it. Derek turned, bringing the fish around in a circle, guiding it back toward shore.

“This is interesting,” said Ulzai. “But I don’t think it’s a good way to catch fish. It takes a lot of time. That much is obvious. And the fish might get away—even now, after all the effort he has put into catching it.”

I said, “Um.”

The fish was in the shallows. Derek grinned. A moment later he said, “Goddammit.”

The line was invisible at the moment. So was the fish. But I could see a zigzag pattern of ripples on the surface of the water, made by the line as it entered the water. The pattern led away from the shore. The fish had turned again.

Derek let it run till it reached the end of the line, then he started to bring it in a second time. He was sweating. His face gleamed, and there were dark patches on his shirt.

“I have seen that on certain animals,” Ulzai said. “Water comes out of their skin in hot weather or when they have made some kind of big effort.”

“Yes,” I said.

“You certainly are unusual people. What does it mean? That he is working?”

“Yes.”

“When a man uses a spear, he knows at once whether or not he has the fish. He may have to wait a long time before he has a chance to strike, but he doesn’t have to work as hard as this man is working.”

I was listening to a natural ice fisherman. What could I say to a person like that? He would never understand the pleasure that Derek took in fighting the fish. Though it didn’t look like pleasure at the moment.