"Jean and Jeff Sutton - Alien From The Stars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sutton Jean and Jeff)

"Man, there sure is. Here Dude, here Dude!"
"How'd it get started?"
"Dunno. Where's Dude?"
"Heard him a moment ago. Here Dude, here Dude!"
With the dog cut off by the leaping flames, Barlo edged through the
thick underbrush along a course that lay at a right angle to the ravine. The
yelps and cries rapidly faded in the distance behind him. With the growth less
thick, he hurried his steps toward the crest of a ridge. Finally he paused to
look back. The two hunters were frantically attempting to stamp out the last
of the fire.
A monkey! His thin lips curled in a smile at the image of a monkey he'd
drawn from the hunters' minds. There was a certain similarity, of course, but
the hunters fitted the description almost as well. Had that thought ever
occurred to them? Probably not.
Topping the ridge, he started down the other side.


TWO

TOBY ADAM came down from the hills, a small brown and white dog at his
side. Tall, with short-cropped dark hair and yellow-flecked brown eyes set in
a deeply tanned face, Toby carried a geologist's rock hammer and a battered
cold chisel. An old leather specimen bag was slung from one shoulder.
His thoughts were pleasant. It was summer, with school more than a month
away, which gave him plenty of time to complete the chalcedony collection he
was preparing for exhibit in the science fair. His particular quest this
morning had been for chrysoprase, an apple-green variety of the mineral which
Grandpa Jed said might be found in the area, although it was extremely rare.
He paused, listening to the echo of a distant gunshot. It seemed to have
come from almost directly ahead. The dog halted, ears cocked, one forepaw
raised as it peered intently along the trail. Several minutes later more
gunfire rolled through the hills. The dog growled.
"Easy, Ruff." Toby reached down and patted the dog's head. His stubby
tail wagged. Straightening, Toby studied the rolling scape ahead. Hunters who
lived in the backcountry generally were careful, but those who came from the
city often were not; he'd learned that long ago. Some opened fire at the
slightest sound or movement, with no idea of the real nature of the target.
Failing to detect the source of the shots, he moved ahead uneasily,
keeping the dog at his side with a restraining word. He would have felt better
knowing where the hunters were. A covey of quail broke from his path and
whirred away through the underbrush. Taking that as a sign that no one was in
the immediate area, he quickened his pace.
Several times he halted to study rock formations and once to watch a
young cottontail on the path ahead. The dog treated the rabbit with elegant
disdain. Toby smiled, knowing that only his presence had kept the dog from
yelping pursuit. A short time later he spotted two armed men hurrying down
from an adjoining gully. A large black dog ran in a circular pattern ahead of
them sniffing at the ground. Toby breathed more easily at having spotted the
hunters.
The sun edged above the mountains, bringing a blast of heat. Toby called