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he had to eat. Once he had rested and had dried the lambs meat, he would travel north or south along the mountain range until he found a place where there were no people, or where there were no dread lizards.
    Karl waited until the half-moon came up and then started down the mountain toward the pasture, keeping as much in shadow as possible. When he had come within a few hundred yards of the flock, he dropped to the ground and covered the remaining distance on his stomach. He stopped close to the sheep and studied them until he had picked out the animal he wanted. Now was the time. Rope in one hand and spear in the other, Karl raced across the moonlit pasture.
    To Karl's astonishment the sheep only lifted their heads and stared at him as he came closer. They didn't scatter and run as he expected. But there was no time to think about this now. With a quick thrust Karl speared the lamb he had chosen. It let out a bleat and started to run, but Karl caught it by the hind leg, flipped it over, and cut its throat with a knife. While it was still kicking, Karl cinched the terry cord to its feet and drew them together. He lifted it onto his shoulders and started running up the pasture when a voice accosted him.
    "You, sheep thief, stop!"
    Karl ran faster. He had almost reached the stone wall at the edge of the pasture when the voice came again, this time close behind.
    "Halt, thief!"
    A hard staff struck the backs of his legs, and he went down. Instantly he scrambled to his feet and crouched, his spear ready. In the moonlight he was surprised to see that his adversary was a girl who didn't look much older than himself.
    "Leave the lamb," she ordered. Her voice was sharp and angry.
    "I'm taking the lamb," Karl said in deadly earnest as he lifted it back onto his shoulder. "If I have to kill you, I will." Balancing the lamb with one hand, his spear ready in the other, he advanced toward her.
    With a cry of rage the girl attacked him with her long staff, whacking, prodding, and striking with a fury that he could not counter. He parried frantically and was forced backward step by step. At last he saw an opening. He sidestepped around her and started running for the edge of the pasture. Then everything went black.
    When Karl came to, he was stretched out on the ground. His hands were bound together and a short length of rope was tied between his ankles to prevent him from running. The girl was kneeling beside him. He knew from the pain at the back of his head that she had knocked him out.
    "Who are you? Where are you from?" she demanded.
    "I'm from Karanga," he answered, "across the desert."
    "No one has ever crossed the desert," the girl said skeptically, "but you don't look like one of the Northmen who usually steal our sheep. You're lucky I was guarding the sheep tonight. Someone else might have killed you."
    Karl nodded. He was amazed by this girl who had captured him with nothing more than a blunt staff.
    "Can you walk?" she asked.
    "I think so," Karl said, though his head still throbbed with pain.
    "Good. Pick up the lamb and follow me."
    Karl groaned as he lifted the lamb to his shoulders with his bound hands. The girl walked down the mountain slowly so Karl would be able to keep up. At the bottom of the pasture the path joined several others, widening into a footway which continued on down toward the village. Before long, they stopped at a house at the edge of the village. She told Karl to put the lamb down, then she led him inside the house.
    In the darkness Karl wondered if this was his chance to escape, but he knew he was too feeble to run. Then an oil lamp flamed up and lit the room. Karl saw a broad bench and sank down upon it.
    "Who's there?" cried an old man's voice.
    "It's Rika, Grandfather. I've captured a sheep thief."
    The lamp was brought nearer. Karl looked up at his captors—the black-haired girl whose round, ruddy face and sharp black eyes still examined him, an old man with many wrinkles, and a boy whom Karl judged