The trees, gave way to a wide-open fieldleading down to a meandering stream. They stopped to drink. Sos hesitated untilhe saw small fish in the water, quick to flee his descending hand. What fishcould thrive in, man could drink.

      Two birds shot across the field in asilent dance. Up and around they spun, the large one following' the small. Itwas a hawk running down some kind of sparrow, and the chase was near its end.Obviously exhausted, the small bird barely avoided the outstretched claws andpowerful beak. The men watched indifferently.

      Suddenly the sparrow fluttered directly atthem, as though imploring their protection. The hawk hovered uncertainly, thenwinged after it.

      "Stop it!" Sola cried, moved bythe fancied appeal. Surprised, Sol looked at her, then held up his hand toblock off the hawk.

      The predator sheered off, while thesparrow flopped to the ground almost at Sola's feet and hunched there, unableor afraid to rise again. Sos suspected that it was as much afraid of the peopleas the enemy. The hawk circled at a distance, then made up its mind. It washungry.

      Sot reached inside his barrow so quicklythat his hand was a blur and whipped out a singlestick. As the hawk swoopedlow, intent on the grounded bird, he swung. Sos knew that the predator was outof reach and far too swift for such antics . . . but it gave a single sharp cryas the stick knocked it out of the air and hurled its broken body into theriver.

      Sos stared. It had been the quickest, mostaccurate motion with a weapon he had ever seen, yet the man had done itcasually, in a fit of pique at a creature who disobeyed his warning. He hadthought that it was merely the luck of the battle that had given Sol the'victory in the circle, though the man was certainly able. Now he understoodthat there had been no luck about it; Sol had simply toyed with him untilwounded, then finished it off quickly.