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

replied. "And he's got more guts than most Men I know."

"You don't say," said Mbele in tones that indicated he still considered Dabihs
one step up -- if that -- from the animals we had come to hunt.

****

_"His form is ungainly -- his intellect small -- "_

_(So the Bellman would often remark) -- _

_"But his courage is perfect! And that, after all,_

_Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."_

****

I'm not much for foot-slogging when transportation is available, but it was
going to take the Dabihs at least a day to assemble the safari vehicle and there
was no sense hanging around camp waiting for it. So off we went, Chajinka and
me, heading due west toward a water hole the computer had mapped. We weren't
out to shoot anything, just to see what there was and what kind of weaponry our
clients would need when we went out hunting the next morning.

It took us a little more than an hour to reach the water hole, and once there we
hid behind some heavy bush about fifty yards away from it. There was a small
herd of brown-and-white herbivores slaking their thirst, and as they left, a
pair of huge red animals, four or five tons apiece, came down to drink. Then
there were four or five more small herds of various types of grass-eaters. I
had just managed to get comfortable when I heard a slight scrabbling noise. I
turned and saw Chajinka pick up a slimy five-inch green worm, study its writhing
body for a moment, then pop it into his mouth and swallow it. He appeared
thoughtful for a moment, as if savoring the taste, then nodded his head in
approval, and began looking for more.
Once upon a time that would have disgusted me, but I'd been with Chajinka for
more than a decade and I was used to his eating habits. I kept looking for
predators, and finally asked if he'd spotted any.

He waited for the t-pack to translate, then shook his head. "Night eaters,
maybe," he whispered back.

"I never saw a world where _all_ the carnivores were nocturnal," I answered.
"There have to be some diurnal hunters, and this is the spot they should be
concentrating on."

"Then where are they?"

"You're the tracker," I said. "You tell me."

He sighed deeply -- a frightening sound if you're not used to Dabihs. A few of