Free Crisis On Doona by Anne McCaffrey, Jody Lynn Nye Page B

stuff the limply uncooperative and slithery coils of snake into the bag and securely fastened the tie. “Congratulations. You’re half-way there!” Hrrin added.
    Still holding the bag, Jilamey looked about him, not certain what to do with his prize. Jan took pity on him and helped him secure it to the saddle on rings embedded in the saddle tree for just such a purpose. Eyes shining, Jilamey galloped to rejoin Team One. Jan followed more sedately, an indulgent grin on her face.
    Just inside the boundaries of his ranch, Wayne sat on his horse, flanked by his wife, Anne, and their eldest son. Nearby, on a pair of nervously curvetting horses, were Wayne’s guests for the Hunt, a couple from the Hrruban home world. They were all armed with crossbows with explosive quarrels, ready to deal with any reptiles escaping from the cordon. The younger Boncyk hefted a bazooka on his right shoulder while his horse shifted under him, trying to balance itself against the weight. Wayne posed another problem to the teams: he was a notoriously bad shot. He had a tendency to detonate the ground right in front of a Hunter’s horse more often than the snake it was pursuing. Todd’s horse had been spooked by one of Wayne’s bombs the year before, dumping him in the pigpens, so he kept one wary eye on the stockman as they passed him.
    Kelly could feel the wind shifting as they came up the hill. That was the worst thing that could happen. Instead of a following breeze that swirled the heady snake musk around them, a new stench filled the air, as potent as snake, blindingly putrid as well as sickly sweet.
    “Faugh,” Kelly said, averting her head and wondering if it would do any good to jerk her scarf over her nose.
    “Oh, no,” Todd groaned. “Pig air!”
    Not only pig was in the air but also the delectable aroma of livestock, blown directly from the Boncyk herds and teams into the noses of ravenous snakes. In a maneuver as planned as a dress parade, the snakes turned, a great river of rippling, leaf-patterned hide across the Hunters’ cordon, rolling uphill toward the farm buildings. With no river, hill, or wood between the snake thoroughfare and the farm, there were no barriers to deflect the snakes’ inexorable approach.
    The moment the pig stink came his way, Todd called for the Sighter crafts to pick up Lures and make a drop near the marsh in an attempt to divert the main bulk of the reptiles. Then he called for any available Beaters and Hunters. The teams spread themselves out across the field to try and contain the flow and regain control. Kelly could hear the screaming farm animals, their cries reaching up the scale to pure panic. They seemed to sense their danger despite the shift of the wind. Boars might have stood and faced the reptiles, but not the gentler China and Poland pigs who were milling about their sturdy pens with no refuge from the approaching menaces. Even if the pressure of the terrified animals broke down the pen bars, they hadn’t the speed to outrun snakes. The only hope of saving them was to head the snakes off again, with full firepower if need be, before they reached the pens.
    “Stop them!” Boncyk called, galloping up, waving his crossbow. “My pigs!”
    “Damnit, Wayne, you’ve been told year after year to get those pigs out of here before spawning season!” Don snapped.
    “The sows are farrowing this month! I can’t move them when they’re birthing; they’re too set in their ways.”
    “They’re not the only ones,” Don grumbled under his breath, but Kelly heard him and grinned.
    The stockman and his retinue galloped after Team One, haranguing Todd all the way. Todd had one object in mind: to stand between the threatened sties and the onrush of snakes, firing to turn them away. It was unlikely that they could save all the animals, but he meant his team to try.
    The wooden enclosures were too far apart and too big for the Hunters to surround. The team hauled their horses to a halt, giving them