with the ordinary, overnight became each other’s guides. Some could hardly see the reptiles in the darkness, others – obstacles. It was here that the consistency of the hunters and trust were important, so that, at the very least, they would not run into their own gouges, understanding at a glance and instant support, which, of course, could not be taken away from close-knit fellow tribesmen – only the coordinated actions of the entire detachment could justify such here are forced night outings!
The chirping of reptiles came from all directions. There was complete confusion around the camp tent. Pawwings dived from the chimney and the roof of the building to Lazunov. Lazoons bounced and tried to catch the attacking Pawwings. Some flying lizards simply squeaked or rumbled, sitting on the ends of the goads, and Lazoons, who were more cunning, tried to climb onto the goads and pull the winged ones down.
In the gaze of the shaman, like other relatives with embodied eyes, only the glow of torches and a huge amount of small red flesh remained visible. And on hearing the screech, rumble and accelerated heartbeat of more than a dozen lizards were heard with a rumble. Seeing all this, Vall and the staunch hunters, growling and waving torches, began to rush at the reptiles. Nearby, side by side, uttering hunting calls and also dispersing the crumbs, the rest of the trackers were bustling about. The lizards, seeing the people, were alarmed and rushed in all directions. Lazoons took to their heels, making their way through the hammered goads, and Pawwings flew over the stakes and immediately flopped into the tall grass. Very quickly, the camp was cleared of shrill intruders. Even after a little time of cold-blooded and the trace caught a cold even in the district. No squeak or rustle was heard, only the chirping of night cicadas and cracklings trilled everywhere.
Having bypassed the tent and checked the surroundings, the hunters put out the lights.
– OK it’s all over Now! Three breaths of business,» Vall said, and involuntarily raised his gaze to the sky.
The cloudless vault, as always, was strewn with bright stars. The full moon shone on the western side of the sky, and not far from it a red star flickered. The rest of the hunters paid attention to the contemplation of the leader.
«She’s still here,» whispered one of the seasoned trackers.
«Where is she to go?» Val frowned. – It’s a star!
The Kindred again began to discuss the star, and the Longneck pack, and the look, and the unity of the young beater. The eyes of the Clanmates had adjusted to the midnight darkness, and Iris, having removed the helmet from the Sharpthorn, drew attention to the fact that the night was not so dark. The radiance of the moon filled everything in the neighborhood with light, and the black-haired man could see in the twilight the outlines of the vegetation around the goats. Immediately the hunter turned towards the liana forest and managed to spot its edge. «It’s bright, but…» thought the big man Iris and went up to the stakes that guarded the northern side of the camp. In two steps, he climbed onto the goads and fixed his eyes on the bennettite field, and the trackers, chatting stormily at that moment, did not notice that the kinsman had gone away.
A warm wind swayed rare ginkgo trees and steppe palms with light breezes. In addition to the trill of the primitives, the rustle of grass and leaves could be heard everywhere from the gusts of the windy element. Iris pricked up his ears and, for as long as his breath was enough, pulled the northern monsoon with his spiked nose. Not feeling any extra smells, except for the aromas of a vegetable plateau, the man tried, under the glow of the moon, to distinguish the remains of Long-necked, which was poisoned during the day, but tall grass and bushes prevented him from doing this. The steadfast hunter turned his eyes, but the herbivore’s carcass was too far away, and if there were any lizards next to it, it would hardly have been possible to find them. Then Iris pierced the distance with his eyes, but still he could barely make out the silhouettes of vegetation. Despite the bright night, Zavrini’s eyes, like an ordinary gaze, did not see well in the dark. The black-haired hunter returned the human mind and looked at the strange outlines of low hills on the horizon.
Meanwhile, the Tyrant, having opened the curtain of the tent, leaned out halfway and, in a whisper of indignation, called his relatives. Iris paid no attention to the call.
– Hey, where are you? Wall, Arwen, Taro, it’s so creepy for us to be here together,» the young hunter was indignant. – And you are still mumbling – it is not clear what the rumble is.
The tribesmen heard the calls of the Tyrant and, not looking up from the conversation, went to the lodging for the night.
«We’ll discuss everything on the way,» Vall suggested. «We need to get some good sleep now. In the morning there is a long road ahead.
What are we going to do with Salas? Taro asked.
«Let’s not do anything,» Vall replied. – Let him get enough sleep, and if he has already slept, then he will sit on patrol, and in the morning he will be on his way. Let’s get to the Great Volcano, and then let the leader and the elders decide for themselves what to do. Inga will cook something so that his eyes are in love…
– Val, Taro! All! Come here! Iris interrupted the speech of the leader.
The hunters flinched at the unexpected speech of their kinsman. And some erected weapons.
«Why are you so scared!» Arwen was outraged. – Where did you come from, put you in the litter!
– Come here quickly. You need to see it!
The tribesmen went to Iris. And the Tyrant also crawled out of the tent to find out what the staunch hunter saw there.
«Don’t you dare go outside, Salas!» I’ll be right back,» he ordered.
***
The young beater listened to the voices of his fellow tribesmen, trying to make out what the relatives were talking about and what Iris had noticed there, but in addition to the hunters’ muttering, the trill of nocturnal animals rumbled in Salas’s ears. All this rumble was mixed up at the hearing, and it was impossible to distinguish anything. Amidst the confusion of sounds, the teenager casually recognized a strange crackle. Salas pricked up his ears more, trying to catch the source of the sound, and inadvertently drew attention to the bizarre fire of blazing lanterns. The teenager remembered that he noticed this strange phenomenon of the fiery element when he woke up.
Salas threw off his skin and ospreys of odorous branches and, climbing out of a pile of bags, approached the torches. The rustle intensified, and the young man realized that it was they who made the crackling. A bizarre mode of fire, similar to a tiny whirlwind of luminous and swirling dust particles, came from the ends of the torch handles, saturated with particles of light! And these particles, under the draft of air, rose to the chimney, turning into white smoke. As if swirling, they circled, and the bewitching dusty flame, as it seemed to the youth, exuded more luminosity than was seen by the usual eye. The young man looked at the bizarre warehouse of the elements for a long time, and then carefully blew on the streams of particles of one of the lights. The luminous dust particles were alarmed. Some of them remained on the handle, while others spun randomly and, leaving their place of residence for a moment, returned back and lined up in the former whole whirlwind.
– Wow! Salas exclaimed in surprise.
The young man stretched out his hand to the torch, trying to feel the warmth of the flame, but was suddenly horrified at the sight presented. Dodging his own hand, he leaned back and flopped to the ground, and then began to crawl away until he hit his back against
