In hunting kailiauk the hunters usually scatter about, each selecting his ownanimals. Accordingly, one's fellows are seldom close at hand to rescue one. Thisis quite different from mounted warfare, where one's fellows are usually quiteclose and ready, in an instant, to sweep one up or help one to regain one'smount. The red savage does not take an industrial or arithmetical approach towarfare. He would rather rescue one comrade than slay ten of the enemy. This hasto do with the fact that they are members of the same tribe and, usually, of thesame warrior society. They will have known one another almost all of theirlives; as children and boys they have played together and watched the kaiilaherds in the summer camps together; they may even have shared in their firstkailliauk hunt; now, as men, they have taken the warpath together; they arecomrades, and friends; each is more precious to the other than even a thousandcoups.

This explains some of the eccentricities of tribal warfare; first actual warparties, though common, are formed less often than parties for stealing kaiila;in this sport the object is to obtain as many kaiila as possible without, ifpossible, engaging the enemy at all; it is a splendid coup, for example, to cuta kaiila tether strap which is tied to the wrist of a sleeping enemy and makeoff with the animal before he awakens; killing a sleeping enemy is only a minorcoup; besides, if he has been killed, how can he understand how cleverly he hasbeen bested; imagine his anger and chagrin when he awakens; is that not moreprecious to the thief than his scalp; in actual warfare itself large-scaleconflicts almost never occur. The typical act of war is the raid, conductedusually by a small group of men, some ten to fifteen in number, which entersenemy country, strikes, usually at dawn, and makes away, almost at soon as itcame, with scalps and loot, sometimes, too, a woman or two of the enemy istaken; men of most tribes are fond of owning a woman of the enemy; maleprisoners are seldom taken; because of their camaraderie and the sporting aspectof their warfare a group of red savages will usually refuse to follow even asingle enemy into rock or brush cover; it is simply too dangerous to do so;similarly the red savages will almost never engage in a standing fight if theyare outnumbered; often, too, they will turn their backs on even an obviousvictory if the costs of grasping it seem too high; sometimes, too, a largenumber of red savages will retreat before an unexpected attack of a small numberof enemies; they prefer to fight on their own terms and at times of their ownchoosing; too, they may not have had time to make their war medicine.

"Even with the small bow," said Samos, "surely he cannot expect to best fivemen."

"It does not seem likely," I admitted.

"He conceives himself to be in the presence of the medicine helper," said Kog.

"He is undaunted."

"Turn the hide," I said.

The creature rotated the hide on the heavy table, in the light of theunshuttered dark lantern.

"The first of the mounted hunters is dead," said Kog, "he who had had the lancein the attack position. The kailla of the others, however, have bolted."

I nodded. I had feared this. The lofty, silken kaiila is an extremely alert,high-strung beast.

"The second mounted hunter, he who had held the lance ready, is thrown from thekaiila to the snow. The man must, thus, in the instant, change his aim to thethird mounted rider, he who held the lance across his body. He fells him. Thedark guest acts. He leaps across the body of the slain kailiauk. He seizes theman who had fallen to the snow."

I did not care to look at that picture.

"We may conjecture that the hunter in the snow has screamed," said Kog. "The twoother hunters, with their lances across their backs, bolt away. In the distancethey turn to regard the kailiauk, the dark guest, the man. The dark guest leapsto the carcass of the kailiauk, its blood red in the snow. Nearby, in the snow,lies he who had been the second mounted hunter. His lance is broken. His bodyhas been half bitten through. The dark guest throws back his head, scratches athis chest, lifts his clawed hands, challenges the other two mounted hunters. Theblood of the second hunter is red about his jaws and on the matted fur of hischest. The other two hunters take their leave. Now the dark guest and the manare alone, with the kailiauk, with three riderless kaiila. The dark guest againcrouches behind the kailiauk. The man puts away his bow and arrows. The darkguest invites him to the feast."

"The story is an interesting invention," said Samos.

"Turn the hide," I said to Kog.

"The dark guest has left," said Kog. "The man cuts meat from the kailiauk."

Kog again turned the hide.

"The man returns to his camp," said Kog. "He returns with three kaiila, on oneof which he rides. The other two are burdened with meat from the kailiauk. Nowthere will not be hunger in his camp. He returns, too, with the hide of thekailiauk rolled before him, and three scalps. He will make a shield."

Again Kog turned the hide.

"This is the shield that he will make," said Kog, indicating the last picture onthe hide. This last picture was much larger than the other pictures. It was someseven or eight inches in diameter.

"I see," I said.

Me shield bears, clearly delineated, the visage of the dark guest, the medicinehelper."

"Yes," I said. "Do you recognize the pictures?" asked Kog.

"Yes," I said, "it is Zarendargar, Half-Ear."

"You cannot be sure," said Samos.

"We, too, believe it to be Zarendargar, whom some humans call Half- Ear," saidKog.

"He is, then, alive," I said.

"It would seem so," said Kog.

"Why have you shown us the pictures?" I asked.

"We wish your help, " said Kog.

"To rescue him from the Barrens?" I asked.

"No," said Kog, "to kill him."

"This is preposterous," said Samos. "This entire story is naught but the fantasyof a savage."

"You will note," said Kog, "that the story is unfolded on this hide."

"So?" asked Samos.

It is kailiauk hide," said Kog.

"So?" asked Samos.

"The red savages depend for their very lives on the kailiauk said Kog.

"He is the major source of their food and life. His meat and hide, his bones andsinew, sustain them. From him they derive not only food, but clothing andshelter, tools and weapons."

"I know," said Samos. "I know."

"In their stories they revere, him. His images and relics figure in theirmedicine."

"I know," said Samos.

"Further, they believe that if they are unworthy of the kailiauk, be will goaway. And they believe that this once happened, long ago."

"So?" asked Samos.

"So" said Kog, "they do not lie on the hide of the kailiauk. It would be thelast place in the world that they would choose to lie. On the hide of thekailiauk one may paint only truth."

Samos was silent.

"Beyond this," said Kog, "note that the image of the dark guest appears on theshield."

"I see," said Samos.

"It is a belief of the red savages that if they are unworthy, or do not speakthe truth, that their shield will not protect them, it will move aside or willnot turn the arrows and lances of enemies. Many warriors claim to have seen thishappen. The shields, too, are made of the hide of the kailiauk from the thickhide of the back of the neck, where the skin and musculature are thick, tosupport the weight of the trident and turn the blows of other tridents,especially in the spring buffetings, attendant upon which follows mateselection.

"I shall accept," said Samos, "that the artist is sincere, that he believeshimself to be telling the truth."

"That much is undeniable," said Kog.

"But the whole thing may be only the faithful report of a vision or dream."

"The portion of the skin pertinent to the dream, or vision," said Kog, "isclearly distinguished from the portion of the skin which purports to beconcerned with real events. Further, we find little reason to believe that theartist could have been, or would have been, mistaken about the nature of thoseevents, at least in their broad outlines."