Slight noise again. Now it was foraging,stripping the ripening corn from the stalk and consuming it on the spot. Thisalone set it apart from ordinary carnivores, for they would never have touchedthe corn. But it could not be an ordinary herbivore either, for they did notharvest and chew the cobs like that. And its footprints, visible in daylightfollowing a raid, were not those of any animal he knew. Broad and round, withthe marks of four squat claws or slender hoofs-not a bear, not anythingnatural.

      It was time. Tyl advanced on the creature,holding one stick 'aloft, using his free hand to part the corn stalks quietly.He knew he could not come upon it completely by surprise, but he hoped to getclose enough to take it with a sudden charge. Tyl knew himself to be the bestfighter in the world, with the sticks. The only man who could beat him stick tostick, was dead, gone to the mountain. There was nothing Tyl feared when soarmed.

      He recalled that lone defeat withnostalgia, as he made the tedious approach. Four years ago, when he had beenyoung. Sol had done it-Sol of All Weapons, creator of the empire-the finestwarrior of all time. Sol had set out to conquer the world, with Tyl as hischief lieutenant. And they had been doing it, too-until the Nameless One hadcome.

      He was close now, and abruptly theforaging noises ceased. The thing had heard him!

      Tyl did not wait for the animal to make upits crafty mind. He launched himself at it, heedless of the shocks of corn hedamaged in his mad passage. Now he had both sticks ready, batting stalks asideas he ran.

      The creature bolted. Tyl saw a hairy humprise in the darkness, heard its weird grunt. He was tempted to use his flash,but knew it would destroy the night vision he had built up in the silent waitand put his mission in peril. The animal was at the fence now, but the fencewas strong and high, and Tyl knew he could catch it before it got over.