Free Shakespeare's Planet by Clifford D. Simak

Back there, you seem to be saying that.”
    â€œI think it might take a while,” said Horton. “He has no idea what it is about and neither of us can help him.”
    They went back along the winding path they’d followed.
    â€œWhat is that smell?” asked Horton. “Like something dead, or worse.”
    â€œIt is the pond,” said Carnivore. “The pond you must have noticed.”
    â€œI saw it coming in.”
    â€œIt smell most obnoxiously,” said Carnivore. “Shakespeare call it Stinking Pond.”

12
    Horton squatted before the fire, superintending the cut of meat roasting over the coals. Carnivore sat across the fire from him, tearing with his teeth at the slab of raw meat he held. Blood smeared his muzzle and ran down his face.
    â€œYou do not mind?” he asked. “My stomach aches exceedingly for filling.”
    â€œNot at all,” said Horton. “Mine will be just a minute more.”
    The sun of late afternoon was warm against his back. The heat of the fire beat against his face and he found himself exulting in the comfort of the camp. The fire was placed directly in front of the snow-white building, with Shakespeare’s skull grinning down upon them. Heard in the silence was the gurgle of the stream that ran below the spring.
    â€œOnce we are done,” said Carnivore, “I show to you the possessions of the Shakespeare. I have them all neatly bagged. You have interest in them?”
    â€œYes, of course,” said Horton.
    â€œIn many ways,” said Carnivore, “the Shakespeare was an aggravating human, although I like him dearly. I never really knew if he liked me or not, although I think he did. We got along together. We work very well together. We talk a lot together. We tell each other many things. But I never can erase the feeling he was laughing at me, although why he should I do not understand. Do you find me funny, Horton?”
    â€œNot in the least,” said Horton. “You must have imagined it.”
    â€œCan you tell me what goddamn means? The Shakespeare always using it and I fall into habit with him. But I never knew what it means. I ask him what is it and he would not tell. He only laugh at me, deep inside himself.”
    â€œIt has no real meaning. Ordinarily, I mean. It is used for emphasis, with no real import of meaning. It is a saying only. Most people do not use it habitually. Only some of them. Others use it sparingly and only under emotional provocation.”
    â€œIt means nothing then. Only a way of speaking.”
    â€œThat is right,” said Horton.
    â€œWhen I talk of magic, he call it goddamn foolishness. It does not mean, then, any special kind of foolishness.”
    â€œNo, he just meant foolishness.”
    â€œYou think magic foolishness?”
    â€œI am not prepared to say. I guess I’ve never thought too much about it. I would suggest that magic lightly used might be foolishness. Perhaps magic is something no one understands. Do you have faith in magic? Do you practice magic?”
    â€œMy people have great magic through the years. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. I say to the Shakespeare let us put our magic together, maybe it will work to open up the tunnel. Shakespeare then say magic goddamn foolishness. He said that he had none. He said no such thing as magic.”
    â€œI suspect,” said Horton, “that he spoke from prejudice. You can’t condemn something you know nothing of.”
    â€œYes,” said Carnivore, “the Shakespeare would do a thing like that. Although I think he lied to me. I think he used his magic. He had a thing that he called book , he said it Shakespeare book. It could talk to him. What is that but magic?”
    â€œWe call it reading ,” Horton said.
    â€œHe held the book and it talked to him. Then he talked to it. He makes little marks upon it with a special stick he have. I ask him what he do and he grunt at me.