"Ardath Mayhar - Khi to Freedom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mayhar Ardath)

The animal was still grumphing and prowling about the tree. I thanked
every power I knew that he wasnтАЩt as bright as a leoric or a venn. As I
started to climb down the far side of the present tree, Lime came
skittering back from the top and caught me sternly by the arm. Pointing
up and over, he tugged me to another cross-limb and urged me across it.
This branch was wider than the first, with a definite upward slant. I found
that I could go up it more easily, bent over at an angle and steadying
myself with my hands. As we went forward, it got easier.
Though I found it all but impossible to negotiate the hand-to-hand
transfers from one branch to another, Lime went ahead of me, finding
paths through the treetops that I would be able to manage. While ours
couldnтАЩt be called speedy progress, we did move through the forest, leaving
the red-brown carnivore far behind.
I had thought myself a strong and athletic man, though IтАЩve never been
very tall nor any sort of heavyweight. But as I went high and low,
zig-zagging to follow my green guide, I realized that I had met more than
my match. The Varlian might not be a Primate of the sort the Ginli
respect, but he was brighter than any Ginli IтАЩd ever met and ten times
more helpful. Anybody laughing at the Varlian after this would find
himself counting his teeth.
It was after midday when Lime motioned for me to pause where I was,
in the midst of a giant beech-like tree. He sped to the top of the
neighboring tree, raised his cupped hands to his mouth, and gave a long,
quavering call that echoed through the surrounding wood so eerily that
my neck-hair crawled. For a short while we waited. Then an answering cry
rang faintly in the distance. With his lines of communication established,
the Varlian proceeded to give a sort of oration from the treetop. The
surprising thing was that it wasnтАЩt framed in Varlian but in a code-like
arrangement of short and long whoops, mixed with spans of tremolo
quavers.
When he was done, he again took up the way through the upper forest. I
was hard put to follow, for he moved more quickly than before. The floor
of the forest below us disappeared from my consciousness, as I struggled
along swaying branches and swung painfully hand-over-hand through
mazes of small growth. When my guide stopped, at last, I heaved myself
onto a wide limb and looked up at an amazing sight.
There was a natural glade in the forest. In its center stood a group of
lofty and wide-spreading nut-trees. The lower branches were trimmed up
the boles so that their lowest sweep was a stiff Varlian-jump from the
ground. In the tops, a connected network of vine linked an aerial
community of woven and nestlike shelters. Among and about the тАЬtownтАЭ,
as well as in the glade, were numbers of Varlian. More than I had ever
seen in one grouping. That, more than anything, told me that this had
proven to be a hospitable planet for the green people. On more hostile
worlds their numbers in one place seldom reach more than a dozen or so.
There must have been nearly three hundred at home when we emerged
from the forest. They came to meet us without surprise. I surmised that
Lime had told them, via the whooping-code, all about me. We walked
across the belt of grass toward the grove, and as I exchanged shy pats and
stares with the beings, I began to wonder if I would be able to make it into