"Your sister is a poor loser," he told Puko, rubbing his ear tenderly. "I don't know how you made it light up," snapped Vaneen, "but as far as I'm concerned, you haven't proved anything yet!" "Here, you try it!" offered Yorgh. "There is no trick." "I don't want the thing. Put it back in your belt and go show it to the simple-minded!" "All right," said Yorgh, with dignity. "Here--you may keep it, until you believe me." He tossed the metal object to the ground at her feet. "One hundred--remember!" he warned. "Or I'll tell every young hunter in the tribe that you are a cheat!" He loved the way her eyes flashed at that, but did not let the sight bemuse him when the billet of wood came whipping across the fire at his head. He reached up one big hand and plucked it out of the air, to Puko's admiring grunt. "Well, if that's the way you feel ..." said Yorgh. "I'll go see just how angry Ahnee is with me. I believe you made that up, out of jealousy!" He tossed the wood airily into the fire and walked away as Vaneen clenched her fists in wordless rage. Which, in a woman, means she's really mad, he reflected. He turned sharply into the shadows of the nearest tent, lest another length of wood come spinning past his ear to ruin the dignified impression he had left behind him. Then he made for the two-wheeled carts shared by the unmarried men, located his own tent bundle among the baggage, and made himself comfortable for the night. * * * * * The next day, he rode out with Kwint, Puko, and two others. They headed toward where the kromp herd had been reported, hoping for horn trophies that might be traded to the Raydower tribe of the great mountains. As with the Sea People, the Hunters relied largely upon wool from their wollies for trading, but other items helped. The Raydowers were sometimes difficult to get along with because of their bent toward mysticism, but they made knives and buckles of hard bronze. Toward noon, they brought down a loppa, a fleet animal smaller than a wolly but excellent eating. Yorgh lost when they drew straws, and stayed to do the skinning as the others hunted back along a brook toward camp, having promised to send him the first cart. The plain thereabouts was dotted by clumps of thick brush, and Yorgh decided to have a steak after he had ridden over to the brook, two hundred yards away, to wash up. He got out his sparking stones from the mountains and made a fire. He had just wiped his mouth on his wrist, careful not to soil the sleeves of his prized crimson tunic, when a drumming thunder rolled across the flatland. He leaped to his feet. "Kromps!" he exclaimed. It was the herd he had seen the day before. Something had aroused them, and they pounded across the grassland in a black mass studded with sweeping horns. They would go for miles, leaving a trail like a dozen tribes on the march with all their wagons.