"Smith, Wilbur - Courtney - When the Lion Feeds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

The bird toppled, feathers flurried from it and it fell. They went
after it. The pheasant scurried broken-winged through the grass ahead
Of them, and they shouted with excitement as they chased it. Sean got a
hand to it. He broke its neck and stood laughing, holding the warm
brown body in his hands, and waited for Garrick to reach him.
Ring-a-ding-a-doody, Garry, you sure gave that one a beauty! Tinker
jumped up to smell the bird and Sean stooped and held it so he could get
his nose against it. Tinker snuffled it, then tried to take it in his
mouth, but Sean pushed his head away and tossed the bird to Garrick.
Garrick hung it with the others on his belt.

, How far do you reckon that was, fifty feet? Garrick asked. nOT as
much as that Sean gave his opinion. More like thirty I reckon it was at
least fifty. I reckon it was farther than any you've hit today. Success
had made Garrick bold. The smile faded from Sean's face.

, Yeah? he asked.

, Yeah! SAid Garrick. Sean pushed the hair off his forehead with the
back of his hand, his hair was black and soft and it kept falling into
his eyes.

What about that one down by the river? That was twice as far. Yeah?
asked Garrick.

Yeah! said Sean truculently. Well, if you're so good, how did you miss
this one hey? You threw first. How come you missed, hey? Sean's
already flushed face darkened and Garrick realized suddenly that he had
gone too far. He took a step backwards.

You'd like to bet? demanded Sean. It was not quite clear to Garrick on
what Sean wished to bet, but from past experience he knew that whatever
it was the issue would be settled by single combat. Garrick seldom won
bets from Sean. It's too late. We'd better be getting home. Pa will
clobber us if we're late for dinner. Sean hesitated and Garrick turned,
ran back to pick up his kerrie then set off in the direction of home.
Sean trotted after him, caught up with him and passed him. Sean always
led. Having proved conClusively his superior prowess with the throwing
sticks Sean was prepared to be forgiving. Over his shoulder he asked,
what colour do you Reckon Gypsy's foal will be?

Garrick accepted the peace-offering with relief and they fell into a
friendly discussion of this and a dozen other equally important
subjects. They kept running: except for an hour, when they had stopped
in a shady place by the river to roast and eat a couple of their
pheasants, they had run all day.

Up here on the plateau it was grassland that rose and fell beneath them
as they climbed the low round hills and dropped into the valleys. The