Even so, the personal problem preoccupied him. Sol had said at the outset that he needed no woman. This had sounded like a courteous deferral to the other man, since no second woman was available. But then he had given the girl his bracelet, signifying their marriage. They had slept together two weeks, yet she now dared to express open dissatisfaction. Sos did not like the look of it
The leaves and underbrush of the forest and field seemed healthy, but the rustle of wildlife faded out as they penetrated deeper. There were birds and numerous flying insects, but no deer, groundhogs or bear. Sos watched for the traces and found none. They would have trouble locating game for their arrows if this were typical. At least the presence of the birds seemed to indicate that the area was safe, so far; he did not know their tolerance, but assumed that one warm-blooded creature should be able to stand about as much as another. The birds would have to stay put while nesting, and would certainly have developed sickness if they were going to.
The trees, gave way to a wide-open field leading down to a meandering stream. They stopped to drink. Sos hesitated until he saw small fish in the water, quick to flee his descending hand. What fish could thrive in, man could drink.
Two birds shot across the field in a silent dance. Up and around they spun, the large one following' the small. It was a hawk running down some kind of sparrow, and the chase was near its end. Obviously exhausted, the small bird barely avoided the outstretched claws and powerful beak. The men watched indifferently.
Suddenly the sparrow fluttered directly at them, as though imploring their protection. The hawk hovered uncertainly, then winged after it.
'Stop it!' Sola cried, moved by the fancied appeal. Surprised, Sol looked at her, then held up his hand to block off the hawk.
The predator sheered off, while the sparrow flopped to the ground almost at Sola's feet and hunched there, unable or afraid to rise again. Sos suspected that it was as much afraid of the people as the enemy. The hawk circled at a distance, then made up its mind. It was hungry.
Sot reached inside his barrow so quickly that his hand was a blur and whipped out a singlestick. As the hawk swooped low, intent on the grounded bird, he swung. Sos knew that the predator was out of reach and far too swift for such antics . . . but it gave a single sharp cry as the stick knocked it out of the air and hurled its broken body into the river.
Sos stared. It had been the quickest, most accurate motion with a weapon he had ever seen, yet the man had done it casually, in a fit of pique at a creature who disobeyed his warning. He had thought that it was merely the luck of the battle that had given Sol the 'victory in the circle, though the man was certainly able. Now he understood that there had been no luck about it; Sol had simply toyed with him until wounded, then finished it off quickly.
The little bird hopped on the ground, fluttering ineffectively. Sola retreated from it, perversely alarmed now that the action was over. Sos donned a gauntlet from his camping pack and reached down carefully to pinion the flapping wings and pick up the frightened creature.
It was not a sparrow after all, but some similar bird. There were flecks of yellow and orange in the brown wings, and the bill was large and blunt. 'Must be a mutant,' he said. 'I've never spotted one like this before.'
Sol shrugged, not interested, and fished the body of the hawk out of the water. It would do for meat if they found nothing better.
Sos opened his glove and freed the bird. It lay in his palm, looking at him but too terrified to move. 'Take off, stupid,' he hid, shaking it gently.
Its little claws found his thumb and clenched upon it.
He reached slowly with his bare hand, satisfied that the creature was not vicious, and pulled at a wing to see if it were broken. The feathers spread apart evenly. He checked the other wing, keeping his touch 'light so that the bird could slip free harmlessly if it decided to fly. Neither was damaged as far as he could tell. 'Take off,' he urged it again, flipping his hand in the air.
The bird hung tight, only spreading its wings momentarily to preserve its equilibrium.
'As you wish,' he said, He brought the glove to the strap over his shoulder and jostled until the bird transferred its perch to the nylon. 'Stupid,' he repeated, not unkindly.
They resumed the march. Fields and brush alternated with islands of trees, and as dusk came the shrilling of insects became amplified, always loudest just a little distance away, but never from the ground. They crossed the spoor of no larger animals. At length they camped by the bank of the stream and netted several small fish. Sos struck a fire
