As Vye turned the hunter's head, it rolled
limply. The other side was a mass of blood and dust, too thick to
afford Vye any idea of how serious a hurt Hume had taken. But he was
still alive.
With his good hand Vye thrust his numb and useless left one into the
front of his belt. Then, awkwardly he tried to tend Hume. After a
close inspection he thought that the mass of blood had come from a
ragged tear in the scalp above the temple and the bone beneath had
escaped damage. From Hume's own first-aid pack he crushed tablets into
the other's slack mouth, hoping they would dissolve if the Hunter
could not swallow. Then he relaxed against the cliff to wait--for what
he could not have said.
Wass' party had gone on into the valley. When Vye turned his head to
look down the slope he could see nothing of them. They must have tried
to push on to the lake. The flitter was at the top of the cliff, as
far out of his reach now as if it were in planetary orbit. There was
only the hope that a rescue party from the safari camp might come.
Hume had set the directional beam on the flyer, when he had brought
her down, to serve as a beacon for the Patrol, if and when Starns was
lucky enough to contact a cruiser.
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