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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/24392-h.zip b/24392-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfec63b --- /dev/null +++ b/24392-h.zip diff --git a/24392-h/24392-h.htm b/24392-h/24392-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a85b74 --- /dev/null +++ b/24392-h/24392-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1622 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cat And Mouse, by Ralph Williams. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cat and Mouse, by Ralph Williams + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cat and Mouse + +Author: Ralph Williams + +Release Date: January 21, 2008 [EBook #24392] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAT AND MOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + + + +<h1>CAT AND MOUSE</h1> + +<h2>BY RALPH WILLIAMS</h2> + +<h3>Illustrated by van Dongen</h3> + +<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science +Fiction June 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus1.png" alt=""/> +</div> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/illus2.png" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>The Warden needed to have a certain very obnoxious pest +eliminated ... and he knew just the pest-eradicator he needed....</i></p></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The Harn first came to the Warden's attention through its effect on the +game population of an area in World 7 of the Warden's sector. A natural +ecology was being maintained on World 7 as a control for experimental +seedings of intelligent life-forms in other similar worlds. How the Harn +got there, the Warden never knew. In its free-moving larval state, the +Harn was a ticklike creature which might have sifted through a natural +inter-dimensional rift; or it might have come through as a hitchhiker on +some legitimate traveler, possibly even the Warden himself.</i></p> + +<p><i>In any event, it was there now. Free of natural enemies and +competition, it had expanded enormously. So far, the effect in the +control world was localized, but this would not be the case when the +Harn seeded. Prompt action was indicated.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Warden's inclination and training was in the direction of avoiding +direct intervention in the ecology of the worlds under his +jurisdiction, even in the field of predator control. He considered +introduction of natural enemies of the Harn from its own world, and +decided against it. That cure was as bad, if not worse, than the disease +itself.</i></p> + +<p><i>There was, however, in one adjacent world, a life-form not normally +associated with the Harn; but which analysis indicated would be inimical +to it, and reasonably amenable to control.</i></p> + +<p><i>It was worth trying, anyway.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>October 3rd, Ed Brown got up to the base cabin of his trap line with his +winter's outfit.</p> + +<p>He hung an N. C. Company calendar on the wall and started marking off +the days.</p> + +<p>October 8th, the hole into the other world opened.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, of course, Ed had not been idle. All summer the cabin +had stood empty. He got his bedding, stove, and other cabin gear down +from the cache and made the place livable. The mice were thick, a good +fur sign, but a nuisance otherwise. Down in the cellar hole, when he +went to clear it out for the new spud crop, he found burrowings +everywhere.</p> + +<p>Well, old Tom would take care of that in short order. Tom was a big, +black, bobtailed cat eleven years old who had lived with Ed since he was +a kitten. Not having any feline companionship to distract him, his only +interest was hunting mice. Generally he killed a lot more than he could +eat, racking the surplus in neat piles beside the trail, on the +doorstep, or on a slab in the cellar. He was the best mouser in interior +Alaska.</p> + +<p>Ed propped the cellar hatch with a stick so old Tom could come and go as +he pleased, and went on about his chores, working with a methodical +efficiency that matched Tom's and went with his thinning gray hair and +forty years in the woods. He dug the spuds he had planted that spring. +He made a swing around his beaver lakes, tallying the blankets in each +house. He took the canoe and moved supplies to his upper cabin. He +harvested some fat mallards that had moved down on the river with the +coming of skim ice on the lakes. He bucked up firewood and stacked it to +move into camp with the first snow.</p> + +<p>On the fifth morning, as he was going down to the boat landing with a +pail for water, he found the hole into the other world.</p> + +<p>Ed had never seen a hole into another world, of course, nor even heard +of such a thing. He was as surprised as any one would naturally be to +find one not fifty feet from their front door.</p> + +<p>Still, his experience had been all in the direction of believing what +his eyes told him. He had seen a lot of strange things in his life, and +one more didn't strain him too much. He stood stockstill where he had +first noticed the hole and studied it warily.</p> + +<p>It was two steps off the trail to the left, right beside the old leaning +birch, a rectangular piece of scenery that did not fit. It looked to be, +as nearly as he could judge, about man-size, six by three. At the +bottom it was easy enough to see where this world left off and that one +began. On the left side the two worlds matched pretty well, but on the +right side there was a niggerhead in this world, the moss-covered relic +of a centuries old stump, while that world continued level, so that the +niggerhead was neatly sliced in two. Also, the vegetation was different, +mossy on this side, grassy on that.</p> + +<p>On up around the hole, though, it was harder to tell. There was no +clear-cut line, just the difference in what you could see through it. In +the other world, the ground seemed to fall away, with low scrubby brush +in the foreground. Then, a mile or so away, there were rising hills with +hardwood forests of some kind, still green with summer, covering them.</p> + +<p>Ed stepped cautiously to one side. The view through the hole narrowed, +as if it faced the trail squarely. He edged around the old birch to get +behind it, and from that side there was no hole, just the same old +Alaskan scenery, birch and rose bushes and spruce. From the front, +though, it was still there.</p> + +<p>He cut an alder shoot about eight feet long, trimmed it, and poked it +through the hole. It went through easily enough. He prodded at the sod +in the other world, digging up small tufts. When he pulled the stick +back, some of the other world dirt was on the sharp end. It looked and +smelled just about like any dirt.</p> + +<p>Old Tom came stretching out into the morning sun and stalked over to +investigate. After a careful inspection of the hole he settled down with +his paws tucked under him to watch. Ed took a flat round can from his +pocket, lined his lip frugally with snuff, and sat down on the up-ended +bucket to watch too. At the moment, that seemed the likeliest thing to +do.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>It was nearly swarming time, the Harn had many things to preoccupy it, +but it spared one unit to watch the hole into the other world. So far, +nothing much had happened. A large biped had found the opening from the +other side. It had been joined by a smaller quadruped; but neither +showed any indication yet of coming through. The sun was shining through +the hole, a large young yellow sun, and the air was crisp, with sharp +interesting odors.</i></p> + +<p><i>The biped ejected a thin squirt of brown liquid through the hole—venom +of some sort, apparently. The Harn hastily drew back out of range.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The hole into the other world stayed there, as unobtrusively fixed as if +it had been there since the beginning of time. Nothing came through, and +nothing moved in the other world but leaves stirring now and then with a +breeze, clouds drifting across the sky. Ed began to realize it was +getting late in the morning, and he had not yet had breakfast. He left +old Tom to watch the hole, got stiffly to his feet and went on down the +trail to get the pail of water he had started for. From the cabin door, +he could still see the hole into the other world. He kept one eye on it +while he cooked breakfast.</p> + +<p>As he was finishing his second cup of coffee, he noticed the view into +the other world becoming duller, dimming in a peculiar fashion. He left +the dirty dishes and went over to look more closely. What was happening, +he found, was just that it was getting dark in the other world. The +effect was strange, much like looking out the door of a brightly lighted +room at dusk. The edges of the hole cast a very clearly marked shadow +now, and outside this shaft of sunlight the view faded, until a few +yards away it was impossible to make out any detail.</p> + +<p>Presently the stars came out. Ed was not an astronomer, but he had a +woodsman's knowledge of the sky. He could find nothing familiar in any +of the stars he saw. In some way, that was more unsettling than the hole +itself had been.</p> + +<p>After he had finished the dishes, he cut two gee-pole spruce, trimmed +them, and stuck one on each side of the hole. He got some thin thread he +used to tie beaver snares and wove it back and forth between the poles, +rigging a tin can alarm. It seemed likely someone or something had put +the hole there, it had not just happened. If anything came through, Ed +wanted to know about it. Just to make extra sure, he got some number +three traps and made a few blind sets in front of the hole.</p> + +<p>Then he went back to his chores. Whatever was going to happen with the +hole would happen when it happened, and winter was still coming.</p> + +<p>He set some babiche to soak for mending his snowshoes. He ran the net he +had set at the edge of the eddy for late silvers and took out two fish. +Old Tom had pretty well cleaned up the mice in the cellar hole, but they +were still burrowing around the sills of the lean-to. Ed took a shovel +and opened up a hole so Tom could get under the lean-to floor. He got +out his needles, palm, thread, and wax; and mended his winter moccasins.</p> + +<p>Off and on, he checked the hole into the other world. There was nothing +but the slow progression of alien stars across the sky. Finally old Tom +grew bored and left to investigate the hole under the lean-to. Shortly +there were scutterings and squeakings as evidence that he, too, had got +back to business.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Toward evening, Ed got to wondering how a living creature would take +transition into the other world. He had no intention of trying it +himself until he knew a lot more about it, but he thought he might be +able to scare up a surrogate. Out by the wood pile some live-traps were +piled under a spruce, from the time when Ed had been catching marten for +the Fish and Wildlife to transplant. One was still in pretty fair shape. +He patched it up and set it among the cottonwoods at the head of the +bar, where there were some rabbit trails.</p> + +<p>When he went to bed it was still dark in the other world. He left the +cabin door ajar so he could see it from his bed and set his shotgun, +loaded with 00 buck, handy.</p> + +<p>Nearing sixty, Ed was not a sound sleeper, even when he had nothing on +his mind. About ten it started to get light in the other world, and that +woke him up. He padded out to look, but there was no change, it looked +about the same as yesterday. He went back to bed.</p> + +<p>The next morning there was a rabbit in the live-trap. With a pole, Ed +pushed the trap with the rabbit in it through into the other world and +watched. Nothing happened. After a while the rabbit began nibbling at +some spears of grass that pushed through the wire of the cage. Ed pulled +it back and examined the rabbit carefully. It seemed healthy and about +as happy as a rabbit could expect to be in a cage.</p> + +<p>It did not get dark in the other world till about noon, that day; and +about seven, when it was dark in both worlds, Ed heard the jangle of the +tin can alarm, followed by the snap of one of the steel traps.</p> + +<p>He took a flashlight and found a small hoofed animal, hardly bigger than +old Tom, rearing and bucking with a broken leg in the trap. It had sharp +little spike horns, only a few inches long, but mean. Ed got several +painful jabs before he got the animal tied up and out of the trap. He +restrung the alarm, then took his catch into the cabin to examine.</p> + +<p>It was herbivorous and adult, from the looks of its teeth and hoofs, +though it only weighed about fifteen pounds. As an approximation, Ed +decided it was female. When he killed it and opened it up, at first +glance it looked reasonably familiar, on closer study less so.</p> + +<p>The blood, anyway, was red; not blue or yellow or green; and the bones +were bones, just odd-shaped.</p> + +<p>Ed cut off a slice of heart and tossed it to old Tom. The cat sniffed it +dubiously and then decided he liked it. He meowed for more. Ed gave it +to him and fried a small sliver of ham. It smelled and tasted fine, but +Ed contented himself with a single delicate nibble, pending further +developments. Anyway, it was beginning to look like a little exploration +would be feasible.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The Harn, also, was well-satisfied with the way things were going. It +had been a strain to pass up the juicy little quadruped in the cage, but +the inhabitants of the other world seemed shy, and the Harn did not wish +to frighten them. At least, it knew now that life could come through the +hole, and the small herbivore it had herded through confirmed that +passage in the opposite direction was equally possible—plus a gratis +demonstration of the other world's pitiful defenses. At swarming time, +the whole new world would be open to embryo Harn, as well as this world +it presently occupied.</i></p> + +<p><i>It looked like a really notable swarming. The Harn budded three more +planters on the forcing stem, to be ready to take full advantage of +it.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It got light in the other world at one in the morning that night. Ed had +the days there pretty well pegged now. They were roughly twenty-seven +hours, of which about thirteen hours were dark. Not too high a latitude, +apparently, and probably late summer by the looks of the vegetation.</p> + +<p>He got up a little before daylight and looked at the rabbit and old Tom. +Both seemed to be doing nicely. Old Tom was hungry for more otherworld +meat. Ed gave it to him and made up a light pack. After some thought, he +took the .450 bear gun he used for back-up when guiding. Whatever he ran +into over there, the .450—a model 71 throwing a 400 grain slug at 2100 +fps—should handle it.</p> + +<p>The first step through into the other world was a queasy one, but it +turned out to be much the same as any other step. The only difference +was that now he was in the other world looking back. From this side, the +niggerhead at the threshold was sliced sharply, but it had been kicked +down a little when he came through, and what with shoving the cage +through and pulling it back, so that some clods of moss and dirt were +scattered in the other world. For some reason, that made Ed feel better, +it seemed to make the joining of the two worlds a little more permanent.</p> + +<p>Still, it had come sudden, and it might go sudden. Ed went back into his +own world and got an ax, a saw, more ammunition, salt, a heavy sleeping +robe, a few other possibles. He brought them through and piled them in +the other world, covering them with a scrap of old tarp. He cut a couple +of poles, peeled them, and stuck them in the ground to mark the hole +from this side.</p> + +<p>Then he looked around.</p> + +<p>He stood on the shoulder of a hill, in a game trail that ran down toward +a stream below, in what seemed to be a fairly recent burn. There were +charred stumps, and the growth was small stuff, with some saplings +pushing up through. There was timber in the valley below, though, and on +the hills beyond, deciduous, somewhat like oak. South was where east had +been in his own world, and the sun seemed smaller, but brighter. The sky +was a very dark blue. He seemed lighter in this world, there was a +spring in his step he had not known for twenty years. He looked at his +compass. It checked with the direction of the sun.</p> + +<p>He studied the trail. It had seen a lot of use, but less in recent +weeks. There were sharp hoof-prints of the animal he had caught, larger +hoof-prints, vague pad-marks of various sizes, but nothing that looked +human. The trail went under a charred tree trunk at a height that was +not comfortable for a man, and the spacing of the steps around the +gnarled roots of an old slump did not fit a man's stride.</p> + +<p>He did not notice the Harn creature at all—which was understandable, it +was well camouflaged.</p> + +<p>He worked circumspectly down the trail, staying a little off it, +studying tracks and droppings, noticing evidences of browsing on the +shrubs—mostly old—pausing to examine tufts of hair and an occasional +feather. Halfway down the slope he flushed a bird about ptarmigan-size, +grayish brown in color.</p> + +<p>The trail was more marked where it went into the timber. It wound +through the trees for a few hundred yards and came out on a canoe-sized +stream. Here it forked. One trail crossed the stream and went up the +hill on the other side, the other followed the stream up the valley.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The Harn followed Ed's movements, observing carefully. It needed a +specimen from the other world, and this biped would serve nicely, but it +might as well learn as much as possible about him first. It could always +pick him up some time before he returned to his own world. Just to make +sure, it sent a stinging unit to guard the entrance.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All his life, except for a short period in France, Ed had been a hunter, +never hunted. Still, you don't grow old in the woods by jumping without +looking. Coming into a new situation, he was wary as an old wolf. There +was a little shoulder right above the fork in the trail. He stood there +for several minutes, looking things over, and then went down and crossed +the stream at the next riffle, above the ford. By doing so, although he +did not know it, he missed the trap the Harn maintained at the ford for +chance passers-by.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the creek, the trail ran angling off downstream, +skirted a small lake hidden in the trees, climbed over another low +shoulder and dropped into a second valley. As Ed followed along it, he +began to notice a few more signs of life—birds, small scurriers on the +ground and in tree tops—and this set him thinking. The country had a +picked-over feel to it, a hunted and trapped-out feel, worse where he +had first come through, but still noticeable here.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The Harn did not like to cross water, it could, but it did not like +to.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Ed looked at the sun. It was getting down in the sky. If there was any +activity at all around here, the ford at dusk would be as likely a place +as any to find it. He worked back along the ridge to a point above where +he judged the ford to be. The breeze was drawing up the valley, but +favoring the other side a little. He dropped down and crossed the stream +a quarter mile above the ford, climbed well above the trail and worked +along the hillside until he was in a position where he could watch both +the ford and the fork in the trail. He squatted down against a tree in a +comfortable position, laid his gun across his knees, and rummaged in his +pack for the cold flapjacks, wrapped around slices of duck breast, which +he had packed for lunch.</p> + +<p>After he had finished eating he drank from his canteen—the water in +this world might be good, it might not, there was no point in taking +chances till he could try it on the cat—and took an economical chew of +snuff. He settled back to wait.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><i>The Harn had lost Ed after he crossed the creek—it used a fallen tree +quite a way further up for its own crossing—and did not pick him up +again until just before he crossed back. Now, however, he had been +immobile for several minutes. This looked like about as good a time as +any to make the pickup. The Harn had a stinging unit just about +positioned, and it had dispatched a carrier to stand by.</i></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After a while, sitting there, Ed began to feel uneasy. The timber was +big here, and open underneath, almost parklike. The nearest cover was +fifty or sixty yards off to his left, a little tangle of brush where a +tree had fallen and let a shaft of sunlight through.</p> + +<p>It looked possible, but it didn't feel quite right. Still, it was about +the only place anything big enough to bother him could hide. The feeling +was getting stronger, the back hairs on Ed's neck were starting to stand +up now. Without visible movement, or even noticing himself that he was +doing it, he let awareness run over his body, checking the position and +stiffness of his legs—he had been sitting there quite a while—the +balance of the gun across his knees, the nearness of his thumb to the +hammer.</p> + +<p>Thoughtfully, still studying the patch of brush, he spat a thin stream +over his left shoulder at a pile of leaves a few feet away.</p> + +<p>Thinking about it later, Ed could almost have sworn the tobacco juice +sizzled as it hit. Actually, this was probably imaginary. The stinging +unit was not that sensitive to tobacco, though it was sensitive enough. +As the drops splattered it, the pile of leaves erupted with a snuffling +hiss like an overloaded teakettle into a tornado of bucking, twisting +activity.</p> + +<p>Ed's reflexes were not quite as fast as they had been when he was young, +but they were better educated. Also, he was already keyed-up. Almost as +it started, the flurry in the leaves stopped with the roar of his rifle. +Fired like that, the heavy gun just about took his hand off, but he did +not notice it at the moment. He came erect in a quick scramble, jacking +in a fresh round as he did so. The scene took on that strange timeless +aspect it often does in moments of emergency, with a man's whole being +focused on the fleeting <i>now</i>—you know, in an academic sort of way, +that things are moving fast, you are moving fast yourself, but there +seems plenty of time to make decisions, to look things over and decide +what has to be done, to move precisely, with minimum effort and maximum +effect.</p> + +<p>Whatever the thing at his feet was, it was out of the picture now—it +had not even twitched after the heavy bullet tore through it. There was +a stomping rush in the little thicket he had been watching. Ed took two +long quick steps to one side to clear a couple of trees, threw up the +gun and fired as something flashed across a thin spot in the brush. He +heard the whack of the bullet in flesh and fired again. Ordinarily he +did not like to shoot at things he could not see clearly, but this did +not seem the time to be overly finicky. There was no further movement in +the brush.</p> + +<p>He stood there several long moments, listening, and there was no further +movement anywhere. He eased the hammer down, fed in three rounds to +replace those he had used, and walked slowly back to the first thing he +had shot.</p> + +<p>At that range, the bullet had not opened up, but it had not needed to. +It had practically exploded the creature anyway—the .450 has two tons +of striking energy at the muzzle. From what was left, Ed deduced a +smallish, rabbit-sized thing, smooth-skinned, muscular, many-legged, +flattish, mottled to camouflage perfectly in the leaves. There was a +head at one end, mostly undamaged since it had been at the end of a long +muscular neck, with a pair of glazing beady eyes and a surprisingly +small mouth. When Ed pressed on the muscles at the base of the skull, +the mouth gaped roundly and a two-inch long spine slid smoothly out of +an inconspicuous slot just below it.</p> + +<p>At middling distances or better, Ed could still see as well as ever, but +close up he needed help. He got out his pocket magnifier and studied the +spine. It looked hollow, grooved back for a distance from the point. A +drop of milky looking substance trembled on its tip.</p> + +<p>Ed nodded thoughtfully to himself. This was what had made him uneasy, he +was pretty sure. What was the thing in the brush, then? Innocent +bystander? He got stiffly to his feet, conscious now of the ache in his +wrist that had taken most of the recoil of the first shot, the torn web +between his right thumb and forefinger where the hammer spur had bitten +in; and walked over to the thicket.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The thing in the brush was larger, quite a bit larger, and the bullets +had not torn it up so badly. It lay sprawled with three of its eight +legs doubled under it, a bear-sized animal with a gaping, cavernous, +toothless mouth out of all proportion to the slender body which seemed +designed mainly as a frame for the muscular legs. It was not quite dead. +As Ed came up it struggled feebly to get up, but one of the heavy slugs +had evidently hit the spine, or whatever carried communications to the +hindquarters. It fell back, shuddering convulsively, and suddenly +regurgitated a small, furry animal.</p> + +<p>Ed stepped back quickly to bring his rifle to bear, but the newest +arrival was obviously already dead.</p> + +<p>He turned his attention back to the larger animal. It, too, was dead +now. There was an obvious family resemblance to the smaller one he had +shot in the leaves. Both were smooth-skinned, many-legged, and now that +he looked closely he could see this one had two mouths, a small one just +under the nostrils, purse-lipped and tiny in its huge face but quite +like that of the other creature. Neither looked even remotely like +anything he had ever seen before.</p> + +<p>He laid down his rifle and took out his knife.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, he knew quite a bit about the thing, but what he knew +did not make much sense. In the first place, its blood <i>was</i> green, a +yellowish pussy green. In the second place, the larger mouth, complete +with jaws and impressive musculature, opened not into a digestive +system, but into a large closed pouch which comprised most of the +animal's torso. There was no proper digestive system at all, only a +rudimentary gut, heavily laced with blood vessels, terminating at one +end in the small second mouth, at the other in an even smaller anus. +Otherwise, the thing had no insides except a good pair of lungs and a +stout heart—none at all. Bone, muscle, lung, heart—plus the +ridiculously inadequate gut—that was it.</p> + +<p>What about the small, furry, animal then; the one the other had been +carrying in its pouch? There was nothing much out-of-the-way about it—a +feline sort of carnivore, something like a marten. The fur looked +interesting, and he skinned it out, casing the hide. On the left ham, +the skin was punctured and there was a swollen, bluish area—about the +sort of wound that would be made by the fang of the first thing he had +shot. Ed squatted back on his heels, studying it and putting two and two +together. What two and two made was pretty hard to believe, but it +fitted the evidence.</p> + +<p>He wiped his knife carefully on the grass, put it back in its sheath, +and got to his feet. Suddenly, the feeling that he was not alone +recurred. He looked quickly around.</p> + +<p>Back where he had shot the first thing, a man in forest-green whipcord +trousers and jacket was leaning over, hands on knees, looking at the +remains. The man looked up and met Ed's eyes. He nodded casually and +walked over to the second thing, prodded it with his toe. After a long +moment he nodded again to Ed, smiled briefly, and winked out.</p> + +<p>Ed stared at the empty air where the other man had been, mouth open. It +was just a little too much. A lot of things had happened to him in the +last few days, he had been able to take most of them more or less as +they came along, but after all, he wasn't a chicken any more, he was +pushing sixty, and there is a limit to what a man should have to put up +with at that age. The thought of his snug cabin, with a good fire going, +moosemeat bubbling in the pot, the gas lantern hissing, and the bottle +of Hudson's Bay rum he had tucked under the eaves against just such an +occasion as this, was suddenly very appealing.</p> + +<p>Besides, it was getting late, and he didn't think he cared to be +stumbling around this world in the dark.</p> + +<p>He elbowed his pack up, hooked the left shoulder strap, and headed for +home, staying off the trail in ordinary caution and watching his +footing, but moving pretty fast just the same.</p> + +<p>Actually, he need not have been so careful.</p> + +<p>The Harn had been surprised and shocked by the explosive violence of the +man's reaction to a routine harvesting maneuver. It was a relatively +young Harn, but it retained memories of its own world, where there were +also nasty, violent things which killed Harn. It was not pleasant to +think that it might have evoked some such monster in this hitherto +peaceful place.</p> + +<p>Then, to top that, there had been the sudden appearance of the Warden. +The Harn, of course, saw the Warden not as a man, but in its true +aspect, which was not at all friendly.</p> + +<p>All in all, this did not seem the moment to start any new adventures. +The Harn pulled in all its mobile units, including the stinger it had +left at the hole into the other world. It huddled protectively together +in its nest, considering these new developments.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>By ten that evening, Ed, in conference with old Tom and the bottle of +Hudson's Bay, had done considerable hard thinking, pro and con.</p> + +<p>Of course, he didn't <i>have</i> to go into the other world, just because the +hole was there. He could block it off, seal it up with timbers and +forget it.</p> + +<p>He sat there and thought about this, absently smoothing the strange fur +on his knee. For an old-timer like himself, things weren't too hot in +this world. Fur didn't bring much of a price any more, and he couldn't +get it in as he had when he was younger. His wants were simple, but +there was a certain rock-bottom minimum he had to have. Too, the winters +were starting to bother him a little, the arthritis in his hands was +getting worse every year, times he hardly had the strength in his left +hand, which was the worst, to hold an ax. Another five, ten, years and +it would be the Pioneers' Home for him—if he did not get stove up or +sick sooner and die right here in the cabin, too helpless to cut wood +for the fire. He had helped bury enough others, bed and all when they +didn't come down the river at breakup and somebody had to go up and look +for them, to know it was possible.</p> + +<p>The other world was milder, it had game and fur—good fur, too, from the +looks of it, something new that could lick any mutation or synthetic on +the market, and the income tax had still left a few fellows who could +pay through the nose to see their women look nice.</p> + +<p>And, the country was new. He'd never thought he'd have a crack at a new +country again, a new, <i>good</i> country. Often, he'd thought how lucky +people had been who were born a hundred and fifty years ago, moving into +an easy, rich country like the Ohio or Kentucky when it was new, instead +of the bitter North.</p> + +<p>The Harn would be a nuisance—Ed did not think of it as the Harn, of +course, but just as "they"—but he supposed he could find a way to clean +them out. A man generally could, if varmints got troublesome enough.</p> + +<p>And the man in forest-green whipcord, well, he <i>could</i> have been just an +hallucination. Ed did not really believe in hallucinations, but he had +heard about them, and there was always a first time.</p> + +<p>Ed sighed, looked at the clock, measured the bottle with his eye—still +better than three quarters full.</p> + +<p>All in all, he guessed, he'd leave the door into the other world open.</p> + +<p>He put old Tom out and went to bed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The first order of business seemed to be to get better acquainted with +the Harn, and first thing in the morning he set about it. He took the +rabbit out of the live box and tethered it in a spot in the other world +close to the hole, where raw earth had been exposed by a big blowdown, +sweeping the ground afterward to clear it of tracks.</p> + +<p>Getting better acquainted with the Harn, though, did not mean he had to +have it come in and crawl in bed with him.</p> + +<p>Before going to bed the night before, he had set half a can of snuff to +steep in some water. He loaded a bug gun with this and sprayed the +ground around the hole into the other world. From the reaction +yesterday, he judged the stinging units did not like tobacco juice, and +this should discourage them from coming through.</p> + +<p>He checked his bear snares and found three in good enough shape to +satisfy him—the large Harn beast, he suspected, would be about like a +grizzly to hold. Three would hardly be enough for a serious trapping +program. Ed made his own snares from old aircraft control cable, using a +lock of his own devising which slid smoothly and cinched down tight and +permanently. He got out his roll of wire and box of locks and started +making up some more, sitting where he could watch the rabbit he had +staked out.</p> + +<p>By the middle of the afternoon the snares were done, but there had been +no action with the rabbit, nor was there for the rest of the day.</p> + +<p>In the morning, though, it was gone. There were three new sets of tracks +in the bare spot—two smaller ones, either of which would have fitted +the stinging unit, and what looked like a carrier's. The action was +clear enough. The small things had prowled around the rabbit for some +time, stopping frequently as if uncertain and suspicious. Finally, one +had moved in, with a little flurry of action when it met the rabbit. +Then it had moved back and squatted again.</p> + +<p>The big tracks came directly to the rabbit and went right out again. +They were heavy enough to be clear in the grass beyond the bare spot.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Ed went back to the cabin and rummaged till he found a pair of +snakeproof pants a Stateside sport had once given him—heavy duck with +an interlining of woven wire. They were heavy and uncomfortable to wear, +and about as useless as wings on a pig in Alaska, where there are no +snakes; but they had been brand-new and expensive when given to him, and +he had put them away, thinking vaguely he might find a use for them some +day. It looked like that day might be now.</p> + +<p>He slipped them on, took his rifle and hunting pack, and set out to +follow the animal that had taken the rabbit.</p> + +<p>The trail showed well in the morning dew, going straight away along the +hillside as if the thing were headed some place definite. Ed followed +along for a quarter mile or so, then found himself on a fairly well +beaten path, which presently joined another, and then another, till it +was a definitely well used trail. It began to look to him like the thing +might have a den of some sort, and he might be getting pretty close to +it. He left the trail and climbed up into a lone tall tree, +fire-scorched but still struggling for life. From there, he could follow +the trail pretty well with his glasses for a couple of hundred yards +before he lost it. Finally, he settled on a spot under an old burnt +stump as a likely spot for the den.</p> + +<p>He focused the glasses carefully and after a few minutes saw a flash of +movement there, as if something had slipped in or out. Nothing else +happened for about an hour. Then the grass along one of the trails began +to wave and a large beast, similar to the one he had shot, trotted into +sight. It slipped in under the stump and disappeared.</p> + +<p>For the rest of the morning, nothing went in or out.</p> + +<p>There was a very good reason for this, and Ed was it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All night and day after he shot the stinging unit and the carrier unit, +the Harn had stayed in its nest. By the second evening, it was getting +hungry. It ventured out and found a few morsels, but the organized +hunting network it ordinarily maintained had been disrupted, it had lost +track of things, and the pickings were poor. Then it stumbled on the +rabbit Ed had staked out.</p> + +<p>Its first impulse was to leave the rabbit strictly alone. In spite of +its early promise, the other world had so far given nothing but trouble. +On the other hand, the rabbit was meat, and very good meat, by the smell +and looks of it....</p> + +<p>The Harn kept its observation unit prowling irresolutely around the +target for half the night before it finally gave in to appetite and sent +in a stinger to finish the rabbit off, a carrier to pick it up.</p> + +<p>It was still uneasy about this when it noticed Ed near the nest the next +morning, confirming its fears. It promptly broke up the net it had been +re-establishing and pulled all units back in. Maybe if it left him +strictly alone, he might still go on about his business, whatever that +was, and let the Harn get back to its harvesting.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>By noon, Ed was getting pretty stiff sitting in the tree. He climbed +down and eased over toward the stump, watching where he set his feet. He +was pretty sure the snakeproof pants would stop the stingers, but he saw +no point in putting them to the test until he had to.</p> + +<p>About fifty yards away, he got a good view, and it did look like there +might be a sizable hole under the stump. He studied it carefully with +the glasses. There was a smooth-beaten mound in front, and exposed roots +were worn slick.</p> + +<p>As he got closer, he noticed an unpleasant smell, and near the mouth of +the den he got a sudden whiff that almost gagged him—a sour, acid, +carrion stink like a buzzard's nest. He moved back a little. The hole +was wide and fairly high, two or three feet, but too dark to see back +into. Still, he had a sense of something stirring there not too far +back.</p> + +<p>Ed had considerable respect for caves and dens with unseen occupants—he +had once helped carry in the bodies of two men who had poked a stick +into a spring grizzly's den. At the same time, he wanted pretty badly to +know what was in there. He suspected there was a good deal more than +what he had already seen.</p> + +<p>The bug gun loaded with tobacco juice was in his pack, and a flashlight, +a small light one designed for a lady's purse which he always carried +when away from camp. He got them out and leaned his rifle against a root +sticking out just to the left of the den. Taking the bug gun in his left +hand and the flashlight in his right, he stooped over to shine the light +in, keeping as well clear of the entrance as possible.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus3.png" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>All in all, he must have got about a five-second look, which is a lot +longer than it sounds when things are happening.</p> + +<p>His first impression was a jumble—eyes, scurrying movement, and bulk. +Then things started to shape up. About ten feet back from the entrance +was a huge, flattish, naked, scabrous bulk, pimpled with finger-sized +teats. Clustered around and behind this were a tangle of slinging units, +carrier units, observation units. Some had their mouths fixed to teats.</p> + +<p>For a long second or two the scene stayed frozen.</p> + +<p>Then the front edge of the bulk split and began to gape. Ed found +himself looking down a manhole-sized gullet into a shallow puddle of +slime with bits of bone sticking up here and there. Toward the near end +a soggy mass of fur that might have been the rabbit seemed to be visibly +melting down. At the same moment, the tangle of lesser monsters sorted +themselves out and a wave of stingers came boiling out at him.</p> + +<p>Ed dropped the flashlight, gave two mighty pumps of the bug gun, and +jumped clear of the entrance. For a moment, the den mouth boiled with +stingers, hissing and bucking in agony. Ed sprayed them heavily again, +snatched up his rifle, and ran, looking back over his shoulder. The +stingers showed no inclination to follow, though, the tobacco juice +seemed to be keeping them well occupied for the moment.</p> + +<p>Halfway home, Ed had to stop and rest for a moment while he took a spell +of shuddering and gagging as a sudden picture of the slimy gullet came +into his mind, with Ed Brown laying where the rabbit had been, melting +down into a stinking soup of bones and gobbets of flesh.</p> + +<p>When he got to the hole, his arrangement of tin cans, traps, and tobacco +juice no longer looked nearly as secure as it had. He got his ax and cut +two stout posts, framing the hole; built a stout slab door and hung it +from them. Then he drove stakes close together at the threshold, to foil +any attempts to dig under, and trimmed a sill tight to the door.</p> + +<p>His feeling in this matter, as it happened, was sound.</p> + +<p>The Harn was beginning to develop a pretty strong dislike for Ed Brown. +Three of its stinging units were dead, and most of the rest were in poor +shape, thanks to the tobacco spray. It had got a little whiff of the +stuff itself, not enough to do any serious damage ordinarily, but right +now, so close to swarming time—</p> + +<p>Ed was going to have to go.</p> + +<p>So far, in this world, the Harn had needed only the three basic types of +mobile units. There were other standard types, however, for dealing with +more complicated situations. As it happened, a couple of carrier embryos +were at just about the right stage. With a little forcing, they could be +brought on in not too long a time. Meanwhile, the Harn would do what it +could with the material available.</p> + +<p>When Ed came through the next day to set his snares, the Harn was +prepared to test his snakeproof pants. They held, which was +disconcerting to the Harn, but it was a hard creature to convince, once +thoroughly aroused. Ed was not too sure of how well the pants would +stand up to persistent assault himself. After the third ambush, he took +to spraying suspicious looking spots with tobacco juice. He shot two +more stingers in this way, but it slowed him up quite a bit. It took him +all day to make four sets.</p> + +<p>In the next three days he made a dozen sets and caught two carriers. +Then, the fourth day, as he adjusted a snare, a seeming root suddenly +came to life and slashed at his hand. He was wearing gloves to keep his +scent from the snares, and the fang caught the glove and just grazed the +ball of his left thumb. The hatchet he had been using to cut a toggle +was lying by his knee. He snatched it up and chopped the stinger before +it could strike again, then yanked off the glove and looked at his hand. +A thin scratch, beaded with drops of blood, showed on the flesh. +Unhesitatingly, he drew the razor edge of the hatchet across it, sucked +and spat, sucked and spat again and again. Then he started for home.</p> + +<p>He barely made it. By the time he got to the hole, he was a very sick +man. He latched the door, stumbled into the cabin and fell on the bed.</p> + +<p>It was several days before he was able to be about again, his hand still +partly paralyzed.</p> + +<p>During that time, the situation changed. The Harn took the offensive.</p> + +<p>Ed's first notice of this was a rhythmic crashing outside the cabin. He +managed to crawl to where he could see the gate he had built to block +the hole into the other world. It was shaking from repeated batterings +from the other side. Dragging his rifle with his good hand, he scrabbled +down to where he could see through the chinks in the slab door. Two of +the carrier units were there, taking turns slamming their full weight +against it. He had built that gate skookum, but not to take something +like that.</p> + +<p>He noted carefully where they were hitting it, then backed off twenty +feet and laid the .450 across a log. He let them hit the door twice more +to get the timing before he loosed off a shot, at the moment of impact. +The battering stopped abruptly, and through the chinks he could see a +bulk piled against the gate.</p> + +<p>For a while there was no more action. Then, after a few tentative butts +at the door, the battering started again. This time, Ed wasn't so lucky. +The battering stopped when he fired, but he got an impression that the +carrier ran off. He thought he might have hit it, but not mortally.</p> + +<p>In an hour or so the Harn was back, and it kept coming back. Ed began to +worry about his ammunition, which was not unlimited. Ordinarily, two or +three boxes lasted him through the winter. He got his .30-06, for which +he had a sugar sack full of military ammunition. The light full-patch +stuff did not have the discouraging effect of the .450, though, and he +had to shoot a lot oftener.</p> + +<p>Another thing, he wasn't getting any rest, which was bad in his already +weakened condition. Every time he dozed off the battering would start +again, and he would have to wake up and snap a few shots through the +door. He held pretty much on one spot, not wanting to shoot the door to +pieces, but the Harn noticed this, and started hitting the door in other +places.</p> + +<p>The second day of the attack, the door came down. It had been pretty +shaky for some time, and Ed had got the cabin ready for a siege, filling +butter kegs with water and nailing up the windows. As the Harn poured +through, he shot several and then broke for the cabin. A carrier ran at +him full tilt, bent on bowling him over. Once off his feet, he would +have been easy meat for one of the stingers. He sidestepped, swung his +shotgun up in one hand—he had kept it handy for the close fighting—and +blew the carrier's spine in half. He had to kick it aside to slam the +cabin door.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes, then, things were pretty hectic. Ed went from one to +another of the loopholes he had cut, blasting first with the shotgun as +the Harn crowded around, then using the .30 as they grew more cautious.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After the first rush, it was obvious to the Harn that the cabin was +going to be a tough nut to crack. On the other hand, there was no rush +about it either. Necessarily, it had let its hunting go the past several +days while it concentrated on Ed. It was pretty hungry, and it was in +rich pickings now—Ed had always kept from disturbing game close to the +cabin, partly because he liked to see it around, and partly because he +had an idea that some day he might be in a fix where he couldn't travel +very well, and would want meat close to hand. The Harn felt no such +compunctions. The stinging units spread through the woods, and shortly a +steady procession of loaded carriers began to stream back through the +hole. Ed picked off the first few, but then the Harn found it could +route them up the river trail in such a way that he got only a glimpse +as they flashed through the hole. After that he did not hit very many.</p> + +<p>Ed stopped shooting. He was getting short on ammunition for the .30 now, +too. He counted up. There were eighteen rounds for the .450, half a box +of 220 grain soft point for the .30 plus about the same amount of +military stuff, and a handful of shotgun shells. Of course, there was +still the .30 Luger with a couple of boxes, and the .22; but they were +not much account for this kind of work.</p> + +<p>He looked at the cabin door. It was stout, built of hewed three-inch +slabs, but it wouldn't last forever against the kind of beating the gate +had got. Even if it did, he was going to run out of water eventually.</p> + +<p>Ed thought about that for a while, sitting at the table staring at the +little pile of cartridges. He was going to be run out of here sooner or +later, he might as well pick his own time, and now seemed about as good +as any, while the Harn was busy exploring and hunting.</p> + +<p>He sighed and got up to rummage around the cabin. The snakeproof pants +had done real good, but he did not trust them entirely. There was some +sheet iron laid over the ceiling joists, which he had brought up to make +new stoves for his line camps. He got this down and cut it into small +pieces. Around the edges he drilled a number of small holes. Then he got +out his mending gear and began sewing the plates, in an overlapping +pattern, to the legs of the snakeproof pants and to an old pair of +moccasins. When he finished, he was pretty well armored as far as his +crotch. It was an awkward outfit to move around in, but as long as he +was able to stay on his feet, he figured he would be reasonably secure +from the stingers. As for the bigger ones, he would just have to depend +on seeing them first, and the .450.</p> + +<p>Next, he needed some gasoline. The fuel cache was under a big spruce, +about twenty yards from the door. He made the round of his loopholes. +There were no Harn in sight, they were apparently ignoring him for now. +He slipped out the door, closing it securely behind him, and started for +the cache.</p> + +<p>As he stepped out, a stinger came from under the sill log and lashed at +his foot. He killed it with the ax beside the door, saving a cartridge, +and went on, walking fairly fast but planting his feet carefully, a +little awkward in his armor. He picked up a five-gallon can of gas, a +quart of motor oil, and the twenty feet of garden hose he used for +siphoning gas down the bank to the boat. On the way back, another +stinger hit him. He kicked it aside, not wanting to set down his load, +and it came at him again and again. Just outside the door, he finally +caught it under a heel and methodically trampled it to death. Then he +snatched open the door, tossed the stuff inside, and pulled it quickly +shut behind him.</p> + +<p>So far, good enough.</p> + +<p>He lashed the gas can solidly to his packboard, slipped the end of the +hose into the flexible spout and wired it tight. Then he cut up an old +wool undershirt and wrapped the pieces around miscellaneous junk—old +nuts and bolts, chunks of leadline, anything to make up half a dozen +packages of good throwing heft. He soaked these in oil and stowed them +in a musette bag which he snapped to the D-rings of the pack.</p> + +<p>One of the metal plates on his moccasin was hanging by a thread, +probably he had torn it loose in the scuffle at the door. They weren't +going to take too much kicking and banging around, he could see, and +once he was on his way, it wouldn't be a very good idea to be caught +bending over with his bare hands at ground level to fix them. On the +other hand, he couldn't be using all his cartridges on the stingers, +either, he had to save them for the carriers. He thought about this some +while mending the moccasin, and decided to take the bug gun. It might +not kill the stingers, but it ought to discourage them enough so they +wouldn't keep pestering him.</p> + +<p>With his bad left arm, he had trouble getting the pack on his back. He +finally managed by swinging it up on the table first. It was not too +much of a load, forty or fifty pounds he guessed. Still, shaky as he +was, it was about as much as he could manage. He had intended to just +try it on for size, but after he got it up he thought: well, why not +now? He picked up the .450, stowed the extra cartridges in his pocket, +checked to make sure he had matches, hung the bug gun on his belt, and +opened the door.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was just getting dusk, but the other world was in broad daylight, the +days and nights were almost completely reversed again. As he stepped +through the hole, the first stinger struck. He gave it a good squirt of +tobacco juice. It went bucking and twisting off and he went on, stepping +carefully and solidly.</p> + +<p>Luckily, most of the Harn was foraging in the new world. Two more +stingers ambushed him, but the tobacco juice got rid of them, and he had +no serious trouble till he got close to the den. Two carriers came out +and rushed him there. He shot them both and then killed the stinger that +was pecking at his shins. He moved quickly now, he had an idea that in +about a minute all hell would break loose. He swung the pack down on the +uphill side of the den, wet the musette bag with a quick spray of gas, +tossed it over his shoulder, jammed the free end of the hose into the +den mouth and stabbed the can with his knife to vent it. As the gas +poured into the den he lit one of his oil and gas soaked bombs and ran +around in front, lighting one after another from the one in his hand and +tossing them into the den. The musette bag caught fire and he snatched +it from his shoulder and tossed it after the bombs. A whoof and a sheet +of flame blew out.</p> + +<p>About fifty yards away there was a slender, popplelike tree. Ed had +thought if he could make that, he would be reasonably secure while the +Harn burned. He ran for it as hard as he could, beating at the flames +that had spattered on him from the burning gas, but he never made it.</p> + +<p>Harn were erupting everywhere. A carrier suddenly came charging out of +the brush to his left. While Ed dealt with that one, the Harn played its +ace in the hole. The two special units it had been developing to deal +with Ed were not quite done yet, but they were done enough to work for +the few minutes the Harn needed them. Ed heard a coughing grunt behind +him and spun around to see something new crawling out of the flame and +smoke at the den entrance.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus4.png" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>This one was a roughly carrier shaped creature, but half again as large, +built for killing. It had powerful fanged jaws and its eight feet were +armed with knifelike, disemboweling claws. As it came at Ed in a +lumbering rush, another came crawling out after it.</p> + +<p>Ed shot four times, as fast as he could work the action. The heavy slugs +did the job, but not quite well enough. With its dying lunge the thing +got to him and tossed him ten feet like a rag doll. He lit on his bad +hand and felt the wrist bones go.</p> + +<p>As he struggled to get up, digging his elbow in and using one hand, he +saw a stinger darting in at him. He had lost both the bug gun and his +rifle when the fighting unit swiped him. He swiveled on his hips and +kicked the stinger away. Then he saw the second fighting unit coming. He +forgot about the stinger. It still might get to him, but, if it did, it +would be too late to matter.</p> + +<p>He drew his knife, managed to get to one knee, and crouched there like +an old gray rat, stubbly lips drawn back from worn teeth in a grin of +pain and rage. This was one he wasn't going to win, he guessed.</p> + +<p>Ten feet away, the fighting unit suddenly ran down like a clockwork toy. +It toppled over, skidded past him under its own momentum, and lay there +kicking spasmodically. Ed glared at it uncomprehendingly. It arched its +neck back to almost touch its haunches, stiffened, and was still.</p> + +<p>Ed looked around. The stinger was dead too, three feet from his +shoulder, and half a dozen more which had been making for him. A cloud +of greasy, stinking smoke was rolling out of the den. The Harn was +dead.</p> + +<p>Ed put his knife away and lay back. He did not quite pass out, but +things got pretty dim.</p> + +<p>After a while he got hold of himself and sat up. He was not too +surprised to see the man in forest green prodding at the bodies of the +fighting units. The stranger looked at the smoke still oozing from the +den and nodded approvingly. Then he came over and looked at Ed. He +clacked his tongue in concern and bent over, touching Ed's wrist. Ed +noticed there was now a cast on it, and it didn't hurt so much. There +was also a plastic binding around his ribs and shoulder, where the claws +of the first fighter had raked as it tossed him. That was a mighty neat +trick, because the rags of his shirt were still buttoned around him, and +he was pretty sure it had not been off at any time.</p> + +<p>The stranger smiled at Ed, patted him on the shoulder, and disappeared. +He seemed to be a busy sort of fellow, Ed thought, with not much time +for visiting.</p> + +<p>Ed felt quite a bit better now, enough better to gather up what was left +of his gear and start home. He was glad to find old Tom waiting for him +there. The cat had taken to the woods when the attack on the gate first +started, he didn't like shooting, and Ed had worried that the Harn might +have got him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Ed slept till noon the next day, got up and cooked a dozen flapjacks and +a pound of bacon. After breakfast, he sat around for an hour or so +drinking coffee. Then he spent the rest of the afternoon puttering +around the cabin.</p> + +<p>He packed away the snakeproof pants, disassembled the flame-thrower, +picked up the traps by the hole.</p> + +<p>Old Tom seemed to have pretty well cleaned up the mice under the +lean-to. Ed took his shovel and filled in the hole he had dug for the +cat to get at them.</p> + +<p>He went to bed early. Tomorrow he would take a long hike around the new +world, scout out the fur and game, plan his trap-line and pick cabin +sites.</p> + +<p>The next morning, though, the hole into the other world was gone.</p> + +<p>The posts which had marked it were sheared neatly in half. The remains +of the door still hung there, battered and sagging; but it swung open on +nothing but Alaska, when Ed stepped through he found himself standing +beside the old leaning birch.</p> + +<p>He tried it several times before he convinced himself.</p> + +<p>He walked slowly back toward the cabin, feeling old and uncertain, not +quite knowing what to do with himself. Old Tom was over by the lean-to, +sniffing and pawing tentatively at the fresh earth where Ed had filled +in the hole. As Ed came up, he came over to rub against Ed's leg.</p> + +<p>They went into the cabin and Ed started fixing breakfast.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cat and Mouse, by Ralph Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAT AND MOUSE *** + +***** This file should be named 24392-h.htm or 24392-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/3/9/24392/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Cat and Mouse + +Author: Ralph Williams + +Release Date: January 21, 2008 [EBook #24392] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAT AND MOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + CAT AND MOUSE + + BY RALPH WILLIAMS + + Illustrated by van Dongen + +[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science +Fiction June 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + + _The Warden needed to have a certain very obnoxious pest + eliminated ... and he knew just the pest-eradicator he needed...._ + + +_The Harn first came to the Warden's attention through its effect on the +game population of an area in World 7 of the Warden's sector. A natural +ecology was being maintained on World 7 as a control for experimental +seedings of intelligent life-forms in other similar worlds. How the Harn +got there, the Warden never knew. In its free-moving larval state, the +Harn was a ticklike creature which might have sifted through a natural +inter-dimensional rift; or it might have come through as a hitchhiker on +some legitimate traveler, possibly even the Warden himself._ + +_In any event, it was there now. Free of natural enemies and +competition, it had expanded enormously. So far, the effect in the +control world was localized, but this would not be the case when the +Harn seeded. Prompt action was indicated._ + +_The Warden's inclination and training was in the direction of avoiding +direct intervention in the ecology of the worlds under his +jurisdiction, even in the field of predator control. He considered +introduction of natural enemies of the Harn from its own world, and +decided against it. That cure was as bad, if not worse, than the disease +itself._ + +_There was, however, in one adjacent world, a life-form not normally +associated with the Harn; but which analysis indicated would be inimical +to it, and reasonably amenable to control._ + +_It was worth trying, anyway._ + + * * * * * + +October 3rd, Ed Brown got up to the base cabin of his trap line with his +winter's outfit. + +He hung an N. C. Company calendar on the wall and started marking off +the days. + +October 8th, the hole into the other world opened. + +In the meantime, of course, Ed had not been idle. All summer the cabin +had stood empty. He got his bedding, stove, and other cabin gear down +from the cache and made the place livable. The mice were thick, a good +fur sign, but a nuisance otherwise. Down in the cellar hole, when he +went to clear it out for the new spud crop, he found burrowings +everywhere. + +Well, old Tom would take care of that in short order. Tom was a big, +black, bobtailed cat eleven years old who had lived with Ed since he was +a kitten. Not having any feline companionship to distract him, his only +interest was hunting mice. Generally he killed a lot more than he could +eat, racking the surplus in neat piles beside the trail, on the +doorstep, or on a slab in the cellar. He was the best mouser in interior +Alaska. + +Ed propped the cellar hatch with a stick so old Tom could come and go as +he pleased, and went on about his chores, working with a methodical +efficiency that matched Tom's and went with his thinning gray hair and +forty years in the woods. He dug the spuds he had planted that spring. +He made a swing around his beaver lakes, tallying the blankets in each +house. He took the canoe and moved supplies to his upper cabin. He +harvested some fat mallards that had moved down on the river with the +coming of skim ice on the lakes. He bucked up firewood and stacked it to +move into camp with the first snow. + +On the fifth morning, as he was going down to the boat landing with a +pail for water, he found the hole into the other world. + +Ed had never seen a hole into another world, of course, nor even heard +of such a thing. He was as surprised as any one would naturally be to +find one not fifty feet from their front door. + +Still, his experience had been all in the direction of believing what +his eyes told him. He had seen a lot of strange things in his life, and +one more didn't strain him too much. He stood stockstill where he had +first noticed the hole and studied it warily. + +It was two steps off the trail to the left, right beside the old leaning +birch, a rectangular piece of scenery that did not fit. It looked to be, +as nearly as he could judge, about man-size, six by three. At the +bottom it was easy enough to see where this world left off and that one +began. On the left side the two worlds matched pretty well, but on the +right side there was a niggerhead in this world, the moss-covered relic +of a centuries old stump, while that world continued level, so that the +niggerhead was neatly sliced in two. Also, the vegetation was different, +mossy on this side, grassy on that. + +On up around the hole, though, it was harder to tell. There was no +clear-cut line, just the difference in what you could see through it. In +the other world, the ground seemed to fall away, with low scrubby brush +in the foreground. Then, a mile or so away, there were rising hills with +hardwood forests of some kind, still green with summer, covering them. + +Ed stepped cautiously to one side. The view through the hole narrowed, +as if it faced the trail squarely. He edged around the old birch to get +behind it, and from that side there was no hole, just the same old +Alaskan scenery, birch and rose bushes and spruce. From the front, +though, it was still there. + +He cut an alder shoot about eight feet long, trimmed it, and poked it +through the hole. It went through easily enough. He prodded at the sod +in the other world, digging up small tufts. When he pulled the stick +back, some of the other world dirt was on the sharp end. It looked and +smelled just about like any dirt. + +Old Tom came stretching out into the morning sun and stalked over to +investigate. After a careful inspection of the hole he settled down with +his paws tucked under him to watch. Ed took a flat round can from his +pocket, lined his lip frugally with snuff, and sat down on the up-ended +bucket to watch too. At the moment, that seemed the likeliest thing to +do. + + * * * * * + +_It was nearly swarming time, the Harn had many things to preoccupy it, +but it spared one unit to watch the hole into the other world. So far, +nothing much had happened. A large biped had found the opening from the +other side. It had been joined by a smaller quadruped; but neither +showed any indication yet of coming through. The sun was shining through +the hole, a large young yellow sun, and the air was crisp, with sharp +interesting odors._ + +_The biped ejected a thin squirt of brown liquid through the hole--venom +of some sort, apparently. The Harn hastily drew back out of range._ + + * * * * * + +The hole into the other world stayed there, as unobtrusively fixed as if +it had been there since the beginning of time. Nothing came through, and +nothing moved in the other world but leaves stirring now and then with a +breeze, clouds drifting across the sky. Ed began to realize it was +getting late in the morning, and he had not yet had breakfast. He left +old Tom to watch the hole, got stiffly to his feet and went on down the +trail to get the pail of water he had started for. From the cabin door, +he could still see the hole into the other world. He kept one eye on it +while he cooked breakfast. + +As he was finishing his second cup of coffee, he noticed the view into +the other world becoming duller, dimming in a peculiar fashion. He left +the dirty dishes and went over to look more closely. What was happening, +he found, was just that it was getting dark in the other world. The +effect was strange, much like looking out the door of a brightly lighted +room at dusk. The edges of the hole cast a very clearly marked shadow +now, and outside this shaft of sunlight the view faded, until a few +yards away it was impossible to make out any detail. + +Presently the stars came out. Ed was not an astronomer, but he had a +woodsman's knowledge of the sky. He could find nothing familiar in any +of the stars he saw. In some way, that was more unsettling than the hole +itself had been. + +After he had finished the dishes, he cut two gee-pole spruce, trimmed +them, and stuck one on each side of the hole. He got some thin thread he +used to tie beaver snares and wove it back and forth between the poles, +rigging a tin can alarm. It seemed likely someone or something had put +the hole there, it had not just happened. If anything came through, Ed +wanted to know about it. Just to make extra sure, he got some number +three traps and made a few blind sets in front of the hole. + +Then he went back to his chores. Whatever was going to happen with the +hole would happen when it happened, and winter was still coming. + +He set some babiche to soak for mending his snowshoes. He ran the net he +had set at the edge of the eddy for late silvers and took out two fish. +Old Tom had pretty well cleaned up the mice in the cellar hole, but they +were still burrowing around the sills of the lean-to. Ed took a shovel +and opened up a hole so Tom could get under the lean-to floor. He got +out his needles, palm, thread, and wax; and mended his winter moccasins. + +Off and on, he checked the hole into the other world. There was nothing +but the slow progression of alien stars across the sky. Finally old Tom +grew bored and left to investigate the hole under the lean-to. Shortly +there were scutterings and squeakings as evidence that he, too, had got +back to business. + + * * * * * + +Toward evening, Ed got to wondering how a living creature would take +transition into the other world. He had no intention of trying it +himself until he knew a lot more about it, but he thought he might be +able to scare up a surrogate. Out by the wood pile some live-traps were +piled under a spruce, from the time when Ed had been catching marten for +the Fish and Wildlife to transplant. One was still in pretty fair shape. +He patched it up and set it among the cottonwoods at the head of the +bar, where there were some rabbit trails. + +When he went to bed it was still dark in the other world. He left the +cabin door ajar so he could see it from his bed and set his shotgun, +loaded with 00 buck, handy. + +Nearing sixty, Ed was not a sound sleeper, even when he had nothing on +his mind. About ten it started to get light in the other world, and that +woke him up. He padded out to look, but there was no change, it looked +about the same as yesterday. He went back to bed. + +The next morning there was a rabbit in the live-trap. With a pole, Ed +pushed the trap with the rabbit in it through into the other world and +watched. Nothing happened. After a while the rabbit began nibbling at +some spears of grass that pushed through the wire of the cage. Ed pulled +it back and examined the rabbit carefully. It seemed healthy and about +as happy as a rabbit could expect to be in a cage. + +It did not get dark in the other world till about noon, that day; and +about seven, when it was dark in both worlds, Ed heard the jangle of the +tin can alarm, followed by the snap of one of the steel traps. + +He took a flashlight and found a small hoofed animal, hardly bigger than +old Tom, rearing and bucking with a broken leg in the trap. It had sharp +little spike horns, only a few inches long, but mean. Ed got several +painful jabs before he got the animal tied up and out of the trap. He +restrung the alarm, then took his catch into the cabin to examine. + +It was herbivorous and adult, from the looks of its teeth and hoofs, +though it only weighed about fifteen pounds. As an approximation, Ed +decided it was female. When he killed it and opened it up, at first +glance it looked reasonably familiar, on closer study less so. + +The blood, anyway, was red; not blue or yellow or green; and the bones +were bones, just odd-shaped. + +Ed cut off a slice of heart and tossed it to old Tom. The cat sniffed it +dubiously and then decided he liked it. He meowed for more. Ed gave it +to him and fried a small sliver of ham. It smelled and tasted fine, but +Ed contented himself with a single delicate nibble, pending further +developments. Anyway, it was beginning to look like a little exploration +would be feasible. + + * * * * * + +_The Harn, also, was well-satisfied with the way things were going. It +had been a strain to pass up the juicy little quadruped in the cage, but +the inhabitants of the other world seemed shy, and the Harn did not wish +to frighten them. At least, it knew now that life could come through the +hole, and the small herbivore it had herded through confirmed that +passage in the opposite direction was equally possible--plus a gratis +demonstration of the other world's pitiful defenses. At swarming time, +the whole new world would be open to embryo Harn, as well as this world +it presently occupied._ + +_It looked like a really notable swarming. The Harn budded three more +planters on the forcing stem, to be ready to take full advantage of +it._ + +It got light in the other world at one in the morning that night. Ed had +the days there pretty well pegged now. They were roughly twenty-seven +hours, of which about thirteen hours were dark. Not too high a latitude, +apparently, and probably late summer by the looks of the vegetation. + +He got up a little before daylight and looked at the rabbit and old Tom. +Both seemed to be doing nicely. Old Tom was hungry for more otherworld +meat. Ed gave it to him and made up a light pack. After some thought, he +took the .450 bear gun he used for back-up when guiding. Whatever he ran +into over there, the .450--a model 71 throwing a 400 grain slug at 2100 +fps--should handle it. + +The first step through into the other world was a queasy one, but it +turned out to be much the same as any other step. The only difference +was that now he was in the other world looking back. From this side, the +niggerhead at the threshold was sliced sharply, but it had been kicked +down a little when he came through, and what with shoving the cage +through and pulling it back, so that some clods of moss and dirt were +scattered in the other world. For some reason, that made Ed feel better, +it seemed to make the joining of the two worlds a little more permanent. + +Still, it had come sudden, and it might go sudden. Ed went back into his +own world and got an ax, a saw, more ammunition, salt, a heavy sleeping +robe, a few other possibles. He brought them through and piled them in +the other world, covering them with a scrap of old tarp. He cut a couple +of poles, peeled them, and stuck them in the ground to mark the hole +from this side. + +Then he looked around. + +He stood on the shoulder of a hill, in a game trail that ran down toward +a stream below, in what seemed to be a fairly recent burn. There were +charred stumps, and the growth was small stuff, with some saplings +pushing up through. There was timber in the valley below, though, and on +the hills beyond, deciduous, somewhat like oak. South was where east had +been in his own world, and the sun seemed smaller, but brighter. The sky +was a very dark blue. He seemed lighter in this world, there was a +spring in his step he had not known for twenty years. He looked at his +compass. It checked with the direction of the sun. + +He studied the trail. It had seen a lot of use, but less in recent +weeks. There were sharp hoof-prints of the animal he had caught, larger +hoof-prints, vague pad-marks of various sizes, but nothing that looked +human. The trail went under a charred tree trunk at a height that was +not comfortable for a man, and the spacing of the steps around the +gnarled roots of an old slump did not fit a man's stride. + +He did not notice the Harn creature at all--which was understandable, it +was well camouflaged. + +He worked circumspectly down the trail, staying a little off it, +studying tracks and droppings, noticing evidences of browsing on the +shrubs--mostly old--pausing to examine tufts of hair and an occasional +feather. Halfway down the slope he flushed a bird about ptarmigan-size, +grayish brown in color. + +The trail was more marked where it went into the timber. It wound +through the trees for a few hundred yards and came out on a canoe-sized +stream. Here it forked. One trail crossed the stream and went up the +hill on the other side, the other followed the stream up the valley. + + * * * * * + +_The Harn followed Ed's movements, observing carefully. It needed a +specimen from the other world, and this biped would serve nicely, but it +might as well learn as much as possible about him first. It could always +pick him up some time before he returned to his own world. Just to make +sure, it sent a stinging unit to guard the entrance._ + + * * * * * + +All his life, except for a short period in France, Ed had been a hunter, +never hunted. Still, you don't grow old in the woods by jumping without +looking. Coming into a new situation, he was wary as an old wolf. There +was a little shoulder right above the fork in the trail. He stood there +for several minutes, looking things over, and then went down and crossed +the stream at the next riffle, above the ford. By doing so, although he +did not know it, he missed the trap the Harn maintained at the ford for +chance passers-by. + +On the other side of the creek, the trail ran angling off downstream, +skirted a small lake hidden in the trees, climbed over another low +shoulder and dropped into a second valley. As Ed followed along it, he +began to notice a few more signs of life--birds, small scurriers on the +ground and in tree tops--and this set him thinking. The country had a +picked-over feel to it, a hunted and trapped-out feel, worse where he +had first come through, but still noticeable here. + + * * * * * + +_The Harn did not like to cross water, it could, but it did not like +to._ + + * * * * * + +Ed looked at the sun. It was getting down in the sky. If there was any +activity at all around here, the ford at dusk would be as likely a place +as any to find it. He worked back along the ridge to a point above where +he judged the ford to be. The breeze was drawing up the valley, but +favoring the other side a little. He dropped down and crossed the stream +a quarter mile above the ford, climbed well above the trail and worked +along the hillside until he was in a position where he could watch both +the ford and the fork in the trail. He squatted down against a tree in a +comfortable position, laid his gun across his knees, and rummaged in his +pack for the cold flapjacks, wrapped around slices of duck breast, which +he had packed for lunch. + +After he had finished eating he drank from his canteen--the water in +this world might be good, it might not, there was no point in taking +chances till he could try it on the cat--and took an economical chew of +snuff. He settled back to wait. + +_The Harn had lost Ed after he crossed the creek--it used a fallen tree +quite a way further up for its own crossing--and did not pick him up +again until just before he crossed back. Now, however, he had been +immobile for several minutes. This looked like about as good a time as +any to make the pickup. The Harn had a stinging unit just about +positioned, and it had dispatched a carrier to stand by._ + +After a while, sitting there, Ed began to feel uneasy. The timber was +big here, and open underneath, almost parklike. The nearest cover was +fifty or sixty yards off to his left, a little tangle of brush where a +tree had fallen and let a shaft of sunlight through. + +It looked possible, but it didn't feel quite right. Still, it was about +the only place anything big enough to bother him could hide. The feeling +was getting stronger, the back hairs on Ed's neck were starting to stand +up now. Without visible movement, or even noticing himself that he was +doing it, he let awareness run over his body, checking the position and +stiffness of his legs--he had been sitting there quite a while--the +balance of the gun across his knees, the nearness of his thumb to the +hammer. + +Thoughtfully, still studying the patch of brush, he spat a thin stream +over his left shoulder at a pile of leaves a few feet away. + +Thinking about it later, Ed could almost have sworn the tobacco juice +sizzled as it hit. Actually, this was probably imaginary. The stinging +unit was not that sensitive to tobacco, though it was sensitive enough. +As the drops splattered it, the pile of leaves erupted with a snuffling +hiss like an overloaded teakettle into a tornado of bucking, twisting +activity. + +Ed's reflexes were not quite as fast as they had been when he was young, +but they were better educated. Also, he was already keyed-up. Almost as +it started, the flurry in the leaves stopped with the roar of his rifle. +Fired like that, the heavy gun just about took his hand off, but he did +not notice it at the moment. He came erect in a quick scramble, jacking +in a fresh round as he did so. The scene took on that strange timeless +aspect it often does in moments of emergency, with a man's whole being +focused on the fleeting _now_--you know, in an academic sort of way, +that things are moving fast, you are moving fast yourself, but there +seems plenty of time to make decisions, to look things over and decide +what has to be done, to move precisely, with minimum effort and maximum +effect. + +Whatever the thing at his feet was, it was out of the picture now--it +had not even twitched after the heavy bullet tore through it. There was +a stomping rush in the little thicket he had been watching. Ed took two +long quick steps to one side to clear a couple of trees, threw up the +gun and fired as something flashed across a thin spot in the brush. He +heard the whack of the bullet in flesh and fired again. Ordinarily he +did not like to shoot at things he could not see clearly, but this did +not seem the time to be overly finicky. There was no further movement in +the brush. + +He stood there several long moments, listening, and there was no further +movement anywhere. He eased the hammer down, fed in three rounds to +replace those he had used, and walked slowly back to the first thing he +had shot. + +At that range, the bullet had not opened up, but it had not needed to. +It had practically exploded the creature anyway--the .450 has two tons +of striking energy at the muzzle. From what was left, Ed deduced a +smallish, rabbit-sized thing, smooth-skinned, muscular, many-legged, +flattish, mottled to camouflage perfectly in the leaves. There was a +head at one end, mostly undamaged since it had been at the end of a long +muscular neck, with a pair of glazing beady eyes and a surprisingly +small mouth. When Ed pressed on the muscles at the base of the skull, +the mouth gaped roundly and a two-inch long spine slid smoothly out of +an inconspicuous slot just below it. + +At middling distances or better, Ed could still see as well as ever, but +close up he needed help. He got out his pocket magnifier and studied the +spine. It looked hollow, grooved back for a distance from the point. A +drop of milky looking substance trembled on its tip. + +Ed nodded thoughtfully to himself. This was what had made him uneasy, he +was pretty sure. What was the thing in the brush, then? Innocent +bystander? He got stiffly to his feet, conscious now of the ache in his +wrist that had taken most of the recoil of the first shot, the torn web +between his right thumb and forefinger where the hammer spur had bitten +in; and walked over to the thicket. + + * * * * * + +The thing in the brush was larger, quite a bit larger, and the bullets +had not torn it up so badly. It lay sprawled with three of its eight +legs doubled under it, a bear-sized animal with a gaping, cavernous, +toothless mouth out of all proportion to the slender body which seemed +designed mainly as a frame for the muscular legs. It was not quite dead. +As Ed came up it struggled feebly to get up, but one of the heavy slugs +had evidently hit the spine, or whatever carried communications to the +hindquarters. It fell back, shuddering convulsively, and suddenly +regurgitated a small, furry animal. + +Ed stepped back quickly to bring his rifle to bear, but the newest +arrival was obviously already dead. + +He turned his attention back to the larger animal. It, too, was dead +now. There was an obvious family resemblance to the smaller one he had +shot in the leaves. Both were smooth-skinned, many-legged, and now that +he looked closely he could see this one had two mouths, a small one just +under the nostrils, purse-lipped and tiny in its huge face but quite +like that of the other creature. Neither looked even remotely like +anything he had ever seen before. + +He laid down his rifle and took out his knife. + +Ten minutes later, he knew quite a bit about the thing, but what he knew +did not make much sense. In the first place, its blood _was_ green, a +yellowish pussy green. In the second place, the larger mouth, complete +with jaws and impressive musculature, opened not into a digestive +system, but into a large closed pouch which comprised most of the +animal's torso. There was no proper digestive system at all, only a +rudimentary gut, heavily laced with blood vessels, terminating at one +end in the small second mouth, at the other in an even smaller anus. +Otherwise, the thing had no insides except a good pair of lungs and a +stout heart--none at all. Bone, muscle, lung, heart--plus the +ridiculously inadequate gut--that was it. + +What about the small, furry, animal then; the one the other had been +carrying in its pouch? There was nothing much out-of-the-way about it--a +feline sort of carnivore, something like a marten. The fur looked +interesting, and he skinned it out, casing the hide. On the left ham, +the skin was punctured and there was a swollen, bluish area--about the +sort of wound that would be made by the fang of the first thing he had +shot. Ed squatted back on his heels, studying it and putting two and two +together. What two and two made was pretty hard to believe, but it +fitted the evidence. + +He wiped his knife carefully on the grass, put it back in its sheath, +and got to his feet. Suddenly, the feeling that he was not alone +recurred. He looked quickly around. + +Back where he had shot the first thing, a man in forest-green whipcord +trousers and jacket was leaning over, hands on knees, looking at the +remains. The man looked up and met Ed's eyes. He nodded casually and +walked over to the second thing, prodded it with his toe. After a long +moment he nodded again to Ed, smiled briefly, and winked out. + +Ed stared at the empty air where the other man had been, mouth open. It +was just a little too much. A lot of things had happened to him in the +last few days, he had been able to take most of them more or less as +they came along, but after all, he wasn't a chicken any more, he was +pushing sixty, and there is a limit to what a man should have to put up +with at that age. The thought of his snug cabin, with a good fire going, +moosemeat bubbling in the pot, the gas lantern hissing, and the bottle +of Hudson's Bay rum he had tucked under the eaves against just such an +occasion as this, was suddenly very appealing. + +Besides, it was getting late, and he didn't think he cared to be +stumbling around this world in the dark. + +He elbowed his pack up, hooked the left shoulder strap, and headed for +home, staying off the trail in ordinary caution and watching his +footing, but moving pretty fast just the same. + +Actually, he need not have been so careful. + +The Harn had been surprised and shocked by the explosive violence of the +man's reaction to a routine harvesting maneuver. It was a relatively +young Harn, but it retained memories of its own world, where there were +also nasty, violent things which killed Harn. It was not pleasant to +think that it might have evoked some such monster in this hitherto +peaceful place. + +Then, to top that, there had been the sudden appearance of the Warden. +The Harn, of course, saw the Warden not as a man, but in its true +aspect, which was not at all friendly. + +All in all, this did not seem the moment to start any new adventures. +The Harn pulled in all its mobile units, including the stinger it had +left at the hole into the other world. It huddled protectively together +in its nest, considering these new developments. + + * * * * * + +By ten that evening, Ed, in conference with old Tom and the bottle of +Hudson's Bay, had done considerable hard thinking, pro and con. + +Of course, he didn't _have_ to go into the other world, just because the +hole was there. He could block it off, seal it up with timbers and +forget it. + +He sat there and thought about this, absently smoothing the strange fur +on his knee. For an old-timer like himself, things weren't too hot in +this world. Fur didn't bring much of a price any more, and he couldn't +get it in as he had when he was younger. His wants were simple, but +there was a certain rock-bottom minimum he had to have. Too, the winters +were starting to bother him a little, the arthritis in his hands was +getting worse every year, times he hardly had the strength in his left +hand, which was the worst, to hold an ax. Another five, ten, years and +it would be the Pioneers' Home for him--if he did not get stove up or +sick sooner and die right here in the cabin, too helpless to cut wood +for the fire. He had helped bury enough others, bed and all when they +didn't come down the river at breakup and somebody had to go up and look +for them, to know it was possible. + +The other world was milder, it had game and fur--good fur, too, from the +looks of it, something new that could lick any mutation or synthetic on +the market, and the income tax had still left a few fellows who could +pay through the nose to see their women look nice. + +And, the country was new. He'd never thought he'd have a crack at a new +country again, a new, _good_ country. Often, he'd thought how lucky +people had been who were born a hundred and fifty years ago, moving into +an easy, rich country like the Ohio or Kentucky when it was new, instead +of the bitter North. + +The Harn would be a nuisance--Ed did not think of it as the Harn, of +course, but just as "they"--but he supposed he could find a way to clean +them out. A man generally could, if varmints got troublesome enough. + +And the man in forest-green whipcord, well, he _could_ have been just an +hallucination. Ed did not really believe in hallucinations, but he had +heard about them, and there was always a first time. + +Ed sighed, looked at the clock, measured the bottle with his eye--still +better than three quarters full. + +All in all, he guessed, he'd leave the door into the other world open. + +He put old Tom out and went to bed. + + * * * * * + +The first order of business seemed to be to get better acquainted with +the Harn, and first thing in the morning he set about it. He took the +rabbit out of the live box and tethered it in a spot in the other world +close to the hole, where raw earth had been exposed by a big blowdown, +sweeping the ground afterward to clear it of tracks. + +Getting better acquainted with the Harn, though, did not mean he had to +have it come in and crawl in bed with him. + +Before going to bed the night before, he had set half a can of snuff to +steep in some water. He loaded a bug gun with this and sprayed the +ground around the hole into the other world. From the reaction +yesterday, he judged the stinging units did not like tobacco juice, and +this should discourage them from coming through. + +He checked his bear snares and found three in good enough shape to +satisfy him--the large Harn beast, he suspected, would be about like a +grizzly to hold. Three would hardly be enough for a serious trapping +program. Ed made his own snares from old aircraft control cable, using a +lock of his own devising which slid smoothly and cinched down tight and +permanently. He got out his roll of wire and box of locks and started +making up some more, sitting where he could watch the rabbit he had +staked out. + +By the middle of the afternoon the snares were done, but there had been +no action with the rabbit, nor was there for the rest of the day. + +In the morning, though, it was gone. There were three new sets of tracks +in the bare spot--two smaller ones, either of which would have fitted +the stinging unit, and what looked like a carrier's. The action was +clear enough. The small things had prowled around the rabbit for some +time, stopping frequently as if uncertain and suspicious. Finally, one +had moved in, with a little flurry of action when it met the rabbit. +Then it had moved back and squatted again. + +The big tracks came directly to the rabbit and went right out again. +They were heavy enough to be clear in the grass beyond the bare spot. + + * * * * * + +Ed went back to the cabin and rummaged till he found a pair of +snakeproof pants a Stateside sport had once given him--heavy duck with +an interlining of woven wire. They were heavy and uncomfortable to wear, +and about as useless as wings on a pig in Alaska, where there are no +snakes; but they had been brand-new and expensive when given to him, and +he had put them away, thinking vaguely he might find a use for them some +day. It looked like that day might be now. + +He slipped them on, took his rifle and hunting pack, and set out to +follow the animal that had taken the rabbit. + +The trail showed well in the morning dew, going straight away along the +hillside as if the thing were headed some place definite. Ed followed +along for a quarter mile or so, then found himself on a fairly well +beaten path, which presently joined another, and then another, till it +was a definitely well used trail. It began to look to him like the thing +might have a den of some sort, and he might be getting pretty close to +it. He left the trail and climbed up into a lone tall tree, +fire-scorched but still struggling for life. From there, he could follow +the trail pretty well with his glasses for a couple of hundred yards +before he lost it. Finally, he settled on a spot under an old burnt +stump as a likely spot for the den. + +He focused the glasses carefully and after a few minutes saw a flash of +movement there, as if something had slipped in or out. Nothing else +happened for about an hour. Then the grass along one of the trails began +to wave and a large beast, similar to the one he had shot, trotted into +sight. It slipped in under the stump and disappeared. + +For the rest of the morning, nothing went in or out. + +There was a very good reason for this, and Ed was it. + + * * * * * + +All night and day after he shot the stinging unit and the carrier unit, +the Harn had stayed in its nest. By the second evening, it was getting +hungry. It ventured out and found a few morsels, but the organized +hunting network it ordinarily maintained had been disrupted, it had lost +track of things, and the pickings were poor. Then it stumbled on the +rabbit Ed had staked out. + +Its first impulse was to leave the rabbit strictly alone. In spite of +its early promise, the other world had so far given nothing but trouble. +On the other hand, the rabbit was meat, and very good meat, by the smell +and looks of it.... + +The Harn kept its observation unit prowling irresolutely around the +target for half the night before it finally gave in to appetite and sent +in a stinger to finish the rabbit off, a carrier to pick it up. + +It was still uneasy about this when it noticed Ed near the nest the next +morning, confirming its fears. It promptly broke up the net it had been +re-establishing and pulled all units back in. Maybe if it left him +strictly alone, he might still go on about his business, whatever that +was, and let the Harn get back to its harvesting. + + * * * * * + +By noon, Ed was getting pretty stiff sitting in the tree. He climbed +down and eased over toward the stump, watching where he set his feet. He +was pretty sure the snakeproof pants would stop the stingers, but he saw +no point in putting them to the test until he had to. + +About fifty yards away, he got a good view, and it did look like there +might be a sizable hole under the stump. He studied it carefully with +the glasses. There was a smooth-beaten mound in front, and exposed roots +were worn slick. + +As he got closer, he noticed an unpleasant smell, and near the mouth of +the den he got a sudden whiff that almost gagged him--a sour, acid, +carrion stink like a buzzard's nest. He moved back a little. The hole +was wide and fairly high, two or three feet, but too dark to see back +into. Still, he had a sense of something stirring there not too far +back. + +Ed had considerable respect for caves and dens with unseen occupants--he +had once helped carry in the bodies of two men who had poked a stick +into a spring grizzly's den. At the same time, he wanted pretty badly to +know what was in there. He suspected there was a good deal more than +what he had already seen. + +The bug gun loaded with tobacco juice was in his pack, and a flashlight, +a small light one designed for a lady's purse which he always carried +when away from camp. He got them out and leaned his rifle against a root +sticking out just to the left of the den. Taking the bug gun in his left +hand and the flashlight in his right, he stooped over to shine the light +in, keeping as well clear of the entrance as possible. + +All in all, he must have got about a five-second look, which is a lot +longer than it sounds when things are happening. + +His first impression was a jumble--eyes, scurrying movement, and bulk. +Then things started to shape up. About ten feet back from the entrance +was a huge, flattish, naked, scabrous bulk, pimpled with finger-sized +teats. Clustered around and behind this were a tangle of slinging units, +carrier units, observation units. Some had their mouths fixed to teats. + +For a long second or two the scene stayed frozen. + +Then the front edge of the bulk split and began to gape. Ed found +himself looking down a manhole-sized gullet into a shallow puddle of +slime with bits of bone sticking up here and there. Toward the near end +a soggy mass of fur that might have been the rabbit seemed to be visibly +melting down. At the same moment, the tangle of lesser monsters sorted +themselves out and a wave of stingers came boiling out at him. + +Ed dropped the flashlight, gave two mighty pumps of the bug gun, and +jumped clear of the entrance. For a moment, the den mouth boiled with +stingers, hissing and bucking in agony. Ed sprayed them heavily again, +snatched up his rifle, and ran, looking back over his shoulder. The +stingers showed no inclination to follow, though, the tobacco juice +seemed to be keeping them well occupied for the moment. + +Halfway home, Ed had to stop and rest for a moment while he took a spell +of shuddering and gagging as a sudden picture of the slimy gullet came +into his mind, with Ed Brown laying where the rabbit had been, melting +down into a stinking soup of bones and gobbets of flesh. + +When he got to the hole, his arrangement of tin cans, traps, and tobacco +juice no longer looked nearly as secure as it had. He got his ax and cut +two stout posts, framing the hole; built a stout slab door and hung it +from them. Then he drove stakes close together at the threshold, to foil +any attempts to dig under, and trimmed a sill tight to the door. + +His feeling in this matter, as it happened, was sound. + +The Harn was beginning to develop a pretty strong dislike for Ed Brown. +Three of its stinging units were dead, and most of the rest were in poor +shape, thanks to the tobacco spray. It had got a little whiff of the +stuff itself, not enough to do any serious damage ordinarily, but right +now, so close to swarming time-- + +Ed was going to have to go. + +So far, in this world, the Harn had needed only the three basic types of +mobile units. There were other standard types, however, for dealing with +more complicated situations. As it happened, a couple of carrier embryos +were at just about the right stage. With a little forcing, they could be +brought on in not too long a time. Meanwhile, the Harn would do what it +could with the material available. + +When Ed came through the next day to set his snares, the Harn was +prepared to test his snakeproof pants. They held, which was +disconcerting to the Harn, but it was a hard creature to convince, once +thoroughly aroused. Ed was not too sure of how well the pants would +stand up to persistent assault himself. After the third ambush, he took +to spraying suspicious looking spots with tobacco juice. He shot two +more stingers in this way, but it slowed him up quite a bit. It took him +all day to make four sets. + +In the next three days he made a dozen sets and caught two carriers. +Then, the fourth day, as he adjusted a snare, a seeming root suddenly +came to life and slashed at his hand. He was wearing gloves to keep his +scent from the snares, and the fang caught the glove and just grazed the +ball of his left thumb. The hatchet he had been using to cut a toggle +was lying by his knee. He snatched it up and chopped the stinger before +it could strike again, then yanked off the glove and looked at his hand. +A thin scratch, beaded with drops of blood, showed on the flesh. +Unhesitatingly, he drew the razor edge of the hatchet across it, sucked +and spat, sucked and spat again and again. Then he started for home. + +He barely made it. By the time he got to the hole, he was a very sick +man. He latched the door, stumbled into the cabin and fell on the bed. + +It was several days before he was able to be about again, his hand still +partly paralyzed. + +During that time, the situation changed. The Harn took the offensive. + +Ed's first notice of this was a rhythmic crashing outside the cabin. He +managed to crawl to where he could see the gate he had built to block +the hole into the other world. It was shaking from repeated batterings +from the other side. Dragging his rifle with his good hand, he scrabbled +down to where he could see through the chinks in the slab door. Two of +the carrier units were there, taking turns slamming their full weight +against it. He had built that gate skookum, but not to take something +like that. + +He noted carefully where they were hitting it, then backed off twenty +feet and laid the .450 across a log. He let them hit the door twice more +to get the timing before he loosed off a shot, at the moment of impact. +The battering stopped abruptly, and through the chinks he could see a +bulk piled against the gate. + +For a while there was no more action. Then, after a few tentative butts +at the door, the battering started again. This time, Ed wasn't so lucky. +The battering stopped when he fired, but he got an impression that the +carrier ran off. He thought he might have hit it, but not mortally. + +In an hour or so the Harn was back, and it kept coming back. Ed began to +worry about his ammunition, which was not unlimited. Ordinarily, two or +three boxes lasted him through the winter. He got his .30-06, for which +he had a sugar sack full of military ammunition. The light full-patch +stuff did not have the discouraging effect of the .450, though, and he +had to shoot a lot oftener. + +Another thing, he wasn't getting any rest, which was bad in his already +weakened condition. Every time he dozed off the battering would start +again, and he would have to wake up and snap a few shots through the +door. He held pretty much on one spot, not wanting to shoot the door to +pieces, but the Harn noticed this, and started hitting the door in other +places. + +The second day of the attack, the door came down. It had been pretty +shaky for some time, and Ed had got the cabin ready for a siege, filling +butter kegs with water and nailing up the windows. As the Harn poured +through, he shot several and then broke for the cabin. A carrier ran at +him full tilt, bent on bowling him over. Once off his feet, he would +have been easy meat for one of the stingers. He sidestepped, swung his +shotgun up in one hand--he had kept it handy for the close fighting--and +blew the carrier's spine in half. He had to kick it aside to slam the +cabin door. + +For a few minutes, then, things were pretty hectic. Ed went from one to +another of the loopholes he had cut, blasting first with the shotgun as +the Harn crowded around, then using the .30 as they grew more cautious. + + * * * * * + +After the first rush, it was obvious to the Harn that the cabin was +going to be a tough nut to crack. On the other hand, there was no rush +about it either. Necessarily, it had let its hunting go the past several +days while it concentrated on Ed. It was pretty hungry, and it was in +rich pickings now--Ed had always kept from disturbing game close to the +cabin, partly because he liked to see it around, and partly because he +had an idea that some day he might be in a fix where he couldn't travel +very well, and would want meat close to hand. The Harn felt no such +compunctions. The stinging units spread through the woods, and shortly a +steady procession of loaded carriers began to stream back through the +hole. Ed picked off the first few, but then the Harn found it could +route them up the river trail in such a way that he got only a glimpse +as they flashed through the hole. After that he did not hit very many. + +Ed stopped shooting. He was getting short on ammunition for the .30 now, +too. He counted up. There were eighteen rounds for the .450, half a box +of 220 grain soft point for the .30 plus about the same amount of +military stuff, and a handful of shotgun shells. Of course, there was +still the .30 Luger with a couple of boxes, and the .22; but they were +not much account for this kind of work. + +He looked at the cabin door. It was stout, built of hewed three-inch +slabs, but it wouldn't last forever against the kind of beating the gate +had got. Even if it did, he was going to run out of water eventually. + +Ed thought about that for a while, sitting at the table staring at the +little pile of cartridges. He was going to be run out of here sooner or +later, he might as well pick his own time, and now seemed about as good +as any, while the Harn was busy exploring and hunting. + +He sighed and got up to rummage around the cabin. The snakeproof pants +had done real good, but he did not trust them entirely. There was some +sheet iron laid over the ceiling joists, which he had brought up to make +new stoves for his line camps. He got this down and cut it into small +pieces. Around the edges he drilled a number of small holes. Then he got +out his mending gear and began sewing the plates, in an overlapping +pattern, to the legs of the snakeproof pants and to an old pair of +moccasins. When he finished, he was pretty well armored as far as his +crotch. It was an awkward outfit to move around in, but as long as he +was able to stay on his feet, he figured he would be reasonably secure +from the stingers. As for the bigger ones, he would just have to depend +on seeing them first, and the .450. + +Next, he needed some gasoline. The fuel cache was under a big spruce, +about twenty yards from the door. He made the round of his loopholes. +There were no Harn in sight, they were apparently ignoring him for now. +He slipped out the door, closing it securely behind him, and started for +the cache. + +As he stepped out, a stinger came from under the sill log and lashed at +his foot. He killed it with the ax beside the door, saving a cartridge, +and went on, walking fairly fast but planting his feet carefully, a +little awkward in his armor. He picked up a five-gallon can of gas, a +quart of motor oil, and the twenty feet of garden hose he used for +siphoning gas down the bank to the boat. On the way back, another +stinger hit him. He kicked it aside, not wanting to set down his load, +and it came at him again and again. Just outside the door, he finally +caught it under a heel and methodically trampled it to death. Then he +snatched open the door, tossed the stuff inside, and pulled it quickly +shut behind him. + +So far, good enough. + +He lashed the gas can solidly to his packboard, slipped the end of the +hose into the flexible spout and wired it tight. Then he cut up an old +wool undershirt and wrapped the pieces around miscellaneous junk--old +nuts and bolts, chunks of leadline, anything to make up half a dozen +packages of good throwing heft. He soaked these in oil and stowed them +in a musette bag which he snapped to the D-rings of the pack. + +One of the metal plates on his moccasin was hanging by a thread, +probably he had torn it loose in the scuffle at the door. They weren't +going to take too much kicking and banging around, he could see, and +once he was on his way, it wouldn't be a very good idea to be caught +bending over with his bare hands at ground level to fix them. On the +other hand, he couldn't be using all his cartridges on the stingers, +either, he had to save them for the carriers. He thought about this some +while mending the moccasin, and decided to take the bug gun. It might +not kill the stingers, but it ought to discourage them enough so they +wouldn't keep pestering him. + +With his bad left arm, he had trouble getting the pack on his back. He +finally managed by swinging it up on the table first. It was not too +much of a load, forty or fifty pounds he guessed. Still, shaky as he +was, it was about as much as he could manage. He had intended to just +try it on for size, but after he got it up he thought: well, why not +now? He picked up the .450, stowed the extra cartridges in his pocket, +checked to make sure he had matches, hung the bug gun on his belt, and +opened the door. + + * * * * * + +It was just getting dusk, but the other world was in broad daylight, the +days and nights were almost completely reversed again. As he stepped +through the hole, the first stinger struck. He gave it a good squirt of +tobacco juice. It went bucking and twisting off and he went on, stepping +carefully and solidly. + +Luckily, most of the Harn was foraging in the new world. Two more +stingers ambushed him, but the tobacco juice got rid of them, and he had +no serious trouble till he got close to the den. Two carriers came out +and rushed him there. He shot them both and then killed the stinger that +was pecking at his shins. He moved quickly now, he had an idea that in +about a minute all hell would break loose. He swung the pack down on the +uphill side of the den, wet the musette bag with a quick spray of gas, +tossed it over his shoulder, jammed the free end of the hose into the +den mouth and stabbed the can with his knife to vent it. As the gas +poured into the den he lit one of his oil and gas soaked bombs and ran +around in front, lighting one after another from the one in his hand and +tossing them into the den. The musette bag caught fire and he snatched +it from his shoulder and tossed it after the bombs. A whoof and a sheet +of flame blew out. + +About fifty yards away there was a slender, popplelike tree. Ed had +thought if he could make that, he would be reasonably secure while the +Harn burned. He ran for it as hard as he could, beating at the flames +that had spattered on him from the burning gas, but he never made it. + +Harn were erupting everywhere. A carrier suddenly came charging out of +the brush to his left. While Ed dealt with that one, the Harn played its +ace in the hole. The two special units it had been developing to deal +with Ed were not quite done yet, but they were done enough to work for +the few minutes the Harn needed them. Ed heard a coughing grunt behind +him and spun around to see something new crawling out of the flame and +smoke at the den entrance. + +This one was a roughly carrier shaped creature, but half again as large, +built for killing. It had powerful fanged jaws and its eight feet were +armed with knifelike, disemboweling claws. As it came at Ed in a +lumbering rush, another came crawling out after it. + +Ed shot four times, as fast as he could work the action. The heavy slugs +did the job, but not quite well enough. With its dying lunge the thing +got to him and tossed him ten feet like a rag doll. He lit on his bad +hand and felt the wrist bones go. + +As he struggled to get up, digging his elbow in and using one hand, he +saw a stinger darting in at him. He had lost both the bug gun and his +rifle when the fighting unit swiped him. He swiveled on his hips and +kicked the stinger away. Then he saw the second fighting unit coming. He +forgot about the stinger. It still might get to him, but, if it did, it +would be too late to matter. + +He drew his knife, managed to get to one knee, and crouched there like +an old gray rat, stubbly lips drawn back from worn teeth in a grin of +pain and rage. This was one he wasn't going to win, he guessed. + +Ten feet away, the fighting unit suddenly ran down like a clockwork toy. +It toppled over, skidded past him under its own momentum, and lay there +kicking spasmodically. Ed glared at it uncomprehendingly. It arched its +neck back to almost touch its haunches, stiffened, and was still. + +Ed looked around. The stinger was dead too, three feet from his +shoulder, and half a dozen more which had been making for him. A cloud +of greasy, stinking smoke was rolling out of the den. The Harn was +dead. + +Ed put his knife away and lay back. He did not quite pass out, but +things got pretty dim. + +After a while he got hold of himself and sat up. He was not too +surprised to see the man in forest green prodding at the bodies of the +fighting units. The stranger looked at the smoke still oozing from the +den and nodded approvingly. Then he came over and looked at Ed. He +clacked his tongue in concern and bent over, touching Ed's wrist. Ed +noticed there was now a cast on it, and it didn't hurt so much. There +was also a plastic binding around his ribs and shoulder, where the claws +of the first fighter had raked as it tossed him. That was a mighty neat +trick, because the rags of his shirt were still buttoned around him, and +he was pretty sure it had not been off at any time. + +The stranger smiled at Ed, patted him on the shoulder, and disappeared. +He seemed to be a busy sort of fellow, Ed thought, with not much time +for visiting. + +Ed felt quite a bit better now, enough better to gather up what was left +of his gear and start home. He was glad to find old Tom waiting for him +there. The cat had taken to the woods when the attack on the gate first +started, he didn't like shooting, and Ed had worried that the Harn might +have got him. + + * * * * * + +Ed slept till noon the next day, got up and cooked a dozen flapjacks and +a pound of bacon. After breakfast, he sat around for an hour or so +drinking coffee. Then he spent the rest of the afternoon puttering +around the cabin. + +He packed away the snakeproof pants, disassembled the flame-thrower, +picked up the traps by the hole. + +Old Tom seemed to have pretty well cleaned up the mice under the +lean-to. Ed took his shovel and filled in the hole he had dug for the +cat to get at them. + +He went to bed early. Tomorrow he would take a long hike around the new +world, scout out the fur and game, plan his trap-line and pick cabin +sites. + +The next morning, though, the hole into the other world was gone. + +The posts which had marked it were sheared neatly in half. The remains +of the door still hung there, battered and sagging; but it swung open on +nothing but Alaska, when Ed stepped through he found himself standing +beside the old leaning birch. + +He tried it several times before he convinced himself. + +He walked slowly back toward the cabin, feeling old and uncertain, not +quite knowing what to do with himself. Old Tom was over by the lean-to, +sniffing and pawing tentatively at the fresh earth where Ed had filled +in the hole. As Ed came up, he came over to rub against Ed's leg. + +They went into the cabin and Ed started fixing breakfast. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cat and Mouse, by Ralph Williams + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAT AND MOUSE *** + +***** This file should be named 24392.txt or 24392.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/3/9/24392/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Mary Meehan and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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