They went down together in the mud. Gilbert's strong young muscles soon bested his opponent. He sat astride the unseen enemy's middle, his fists raised. "Surrender," he said. "I surrender." Gilbert recognized Wenzi's voice. Wenzi was one of the beaters, an aloofly quiet boy who had kept to himself all during the safari, and who, Gilbert remembered, wore far too much clothing for the warm, sticky weather. Gilbert got up, holding Wenzi's elbow. Wenzi said, "I heard what the master and you said. I came." "But why?" Gilbert demanded. "Don't tell me you think I'll beat Mulveen?" "No," said Wenzi glumly. "Mulveen will win. But I was afraid." "Of what?" "Before the hunt this morning," Wenzi said, "I went down to the stream to wash. I went alone." "You always go alone," Gilbert said. "Sweating in your trousers and shirt no matter how hot it is." "I have to," said Wenzi. "Have to?" "Mulveen must have been suspicious. He followed me this morning. He saw. Tonight, he said. Tonight, Wenzi. I had to come after you, Gilbert." "Tonight? Tonight what?" "Mulveen saw me at the stream. This is a good way to make a living, Gilbert. Better than the other ways which are open to me. It is clean. It is decent, if degrading. I am a girl, Gilbert." The news stunned him. A girl on safari--it was unthinkable. A girl, here.... "But don't you have a family? A father or brother to provide for you?" "No one. And I'm seventeen." Seventeen. Wenzi, by modern Earth standards gone primitive, was a woman. Suddenly Gilbert tensed. He had heard something, a slight stirring in the dark swamp. Had Wenzi been followed? Had this whole thing been elaborately planned by Mulveen, planned already in the morning, giving Wenzi a reason to flee so that Wenzi would flee to Gilbert at night and Gilbert would be caught and killed, legitimate quarry now, even before morning came? Gilbert touched Wenzi's lips with his fingers, hoping she would understand. He took her arm and led her silently from the swamp-trail. They waited in among the wet creepers and tree-roots. Gilbert could feel Wenzi's frightened breathing as she leaned close to him. Whatever was pursuing them came on through the swamp. Once it floundered off the trail in darkness, splashing. It came on again. It paused, making a sniffing sound. An animal? A swamp-hog, perhaps? It sounded about the right size and bulk--but so would a man.... Gilbert brought the rifle up. A dark shadow stirred. "Stop!" Gilbert commanded. "You're in my sights. I can kill you." "Gil!" a voice implored. Gilbert dropped the rifle and let it swing on the shoulder thong. "Arnaud," he said. "I could have shot you." Arnaud was the safari's chief beater and second in command to Gilbert. "Mulveen told me what he was doing," Arnaud said. "I slipped out of camp." "Why? You think Mulveen's going to lose?" "With a dozen boys? No, I couldn't help him hunt you and kill you, that's all."