"Mike Resnick - Hunting The Snark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

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_"Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again_

_The five unmistakeable marks_

_By which you may know, wheresoever you go,_

_The warranted genuine Snarks."_

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I gathered the hunting party around me.

"Well," I announced, "we know a little more about the Snark now than we did
yesterday." I paused to watch their reactions. Everyone except Desmond seemed
interested; Desmond looked like he wished he were anywhere else.

"Chajinka has been to the tree where we tied the dead meat animals," I
continued.

"And?" said Marx.

"The ropes were untied. Not cut or torn apart or bitten through; untied. So we
know that the Snark either has fingers, or some damned effective appendages.
And some meat was missing from the carcasses."

"All right," said Ramona. "We know he can untie knots. What else?"

"We know he's a carnivore," I said. "We weren't sure about that yesterday."

"So what?" asked Marx. "There are millions of carnivores in the galaxy.
Nothing unique about that."

"It means he won't stray far from the game herds. They're his supermarket."

"Maybe he only has to eat once every few months," said Marx, unimpressed.

"No," I said. "That's the third thing we've learned: he's got to eat just about
as often as we do."

"How do we know that?" asked Ramona.
"According to Chajinka, he approached the meat very cautiously, but his tracks
show that he trotted away once he'd eaten his fill. The trail disappeared after
a mile, but we know that he trotted that whole distance."

"Ah!" said Ramona. "I see."

"I sure as hell don't," complained her husband.