Free The Hunter Returns by David Drake, Jim Kjelgaard Page A

why the tiger had abandoned its watch of their camp.
    A large herd of camels had moved into the area. Their scent came faintly at first, but as Hawk moved nearer, the odor strengthened. They had passed among the little hillocks and winding valleys toward the same river meadows upon which the tribe had unsuccessfully attempted to trap the giant bison. Hawk swerved from the tiger’s trail and climbed a hill.
    From the summit he looked into a partly wooded valley. The camel herd had passed here, so many of them that they had left a beaten road behind them. Below, in the valley, Hawk saw the tiger.
    It was eating from a large camel it had pulled down. Vultures were wheeling through the sky, and others had already alighted in the nearby trees. Endlessly patient, they were waiting until the tiger was through before they descended to feast on what remained. Skulking in the grass were two other hopeful scavengers: a pair of wild cats that were also lingering until the tiger was finished before they fought over whatever was left.
    Hawk had previously noticed that the saber-tooth was an old beast. Yet it was not too old to kill a full-grown camel. Even though some of its vigor was gone, it was a beast to watch carefully. Hawk went back down the hillock and started toward the river meadows.
    From another vantage he looked down upon the camel herd. Hundreds strong, they were feeding avidly on the rich river grass. Judging by their condition, they had journeyed a long way from some arid, drought-stricken pastures. But at last they were here and now would give themselves over to satisfying their hunger. They would stay here until the river meadows were grazed bare or until they were driven elsewhere by raiding beasts.
    Already the raiders were gathering. As Hawk watched, a small pack of dogs swooped upon a camel calf feeding at its mother’s side. The mother whirled to defend her young, striking high with her big hooves. Three of the dogs feinted before her, luring her away and distracting her attention while three more went in and killed the calf.
    Hawk turned away, satisfied. The camel herd was a blessing in more ways than one. He himself could hunt them, for one man could kill a camel. Also, it was very unlikely that any predator would bother to stalk a man when there was easier and safer game to be had. He was sure that the tiger would stay near the camel herd as long as the camels stayed.
    But, though Hawk needn’t fear the tiger in the near future, there were other things he must do. Never far from his thoughts was the fact that he was a lone man. Banished from his tribe, he lacked the safety which numbers alone could furnish. When faced with danger, he could not present the many spear points that the tribe could.
    He needed more striking power, more weapons. But if he carried two spears and a club he was already burdened down with everything he could conveniently carry and handle. The throwing-stick was a thing of great power, but suppose he was confronted by a pack of dogs or wolves? After he had thrown his two spears he must still rely on his club, and that meant dangerous, close-quarter work. Hawk turned back toward the fire, giving all his thoughts to this new problem.
    All about were the scents of small beasts: rodents, deer, antelope, and different tree-climbing creatures. According to their natures, they either bounded out of his way or froze tightly where they were, hoping to escape detection by staying quiet. Hawk paid no particular attention to any of them, for these were creatures he needn’t fear and at the present didn’t want. But suddenly he stopped, his nostrils dilated. The wind bore him the scent of another wild cat, and he knew from the odor that the cat was in a dangerous mood. Furthermore, it was coming his way. He fitted a spear into his throwing-stick.
    The little cat came upon him suddenly, bursting out of the grass and hurling itself recklessly toward him. Hawk waited, not wanting to cast his spear until