"That detector must be wrong," Cable said, wiping his face wearily. He was a big, pinkish man. He had sweated off twenty pounds on Vuanu, picked up a bad case of prickly heat, and had enough treasure-hunting to last him a lifetime. He wished he were back in Baltimore taking care of his used-car agency. He didn't hesitate to say so, often and loudly. He was one member who had not worked out well. "Nothing wrong with the detector," Sorensen said. "Trouble is, we're digging in swampy ground. The cache must have sunk." "It's probably a hundred feet down," Cable said, stabbing angrily at the gluey mud. "Nope," Sorensen said. "There's volcanic rock under us, no more than twenty feet down." "Twenty feet? We should have a bulldozer." "Might be costly bringing one in," Sorensen said mildly. "Come on, Al, let's get back to camp." Sorensen helped Cable out of the excavation. They cleaned off their tools and started toward the narrow path leading back to the camp. They stopped abruptly. A large, ugly bird had stepped out of the brush. It was standing on the path, blocking their way. "What in hell is that?" Cable asked. "A cassowary," Sorensen said. "Well, let's boot it out of the way and get going." "Take it easy," Sorensen said. "If anyone does any booting, it'll be the bird. Back away slowly." The cassowary was nearly five feet high, a black-feathered ostrich-like bird standing erect on powerful legs. Each of its feet was three-toed, and the toes curved into heavy talons. It had a yellowish, bony head and short, useless wings. From its neck hung a brilliant wattle colored red, green, and purple. "It is dangerous?" Cable asked. Sorensen nodded. "Natives on New Guinea have been kicked to death by those birds." "Why haven't we seen it before?" Cable asked. "They're usually very shy," Sorensen said. "They stay as far from people as they can." "This one sure isn't shy," Cable said, as the cassowary took a step toward them. "Can we run?" "The bird can run a lot faster," Sorensen said. "I don't suppose you have a gun with you?" "Of course not. There's been nothing to shoot." * * * * * Backing away, they held their spades like spears. The brush crackled and an anteater emerged. It was followed by a wild pig. The three beasts converged on the men, backing them toward the dense wall of the jungle. "They're herding us," Cable said, his voice going shrill. "Take it easy," Sorensen said. "The cassowary is the only one we have to watch out for." "Aren't anteaters dangerous?" "Only to ants." "The hell you say," Cable said. "Bill, the animals on this island have gone crazy. Remember Eakins' mouse?" "I remember it," Sorensen said. They had reached the far edge of the clearing. The beasts were in front of them, still advancing, with the cassowary in the center. Behind them lay the jungle--and whatever they were being herded toward. "We'll have to make a break for it," Sorensen said.