Short Stories by Robert A. Heinlein Vol 2 Part 112

-"Not Paw's land. I mean my plantation."

"Yours?"

"Will be mine. Paw posted an option bond. When I'm old enough, I'll prove it." He hurried on.

Shortly Charlie realized that he was lost even though they were in a cultivated grove. "Hold it, Hans! Can I borrow your polarizer?"

"What for?"

"I want to establish base, that's what. I'm all mixed up.',

"Base is that direction," Hans answered, pointing with his machete. "My polarizer is at the house. We don't need it."

"I just thought I ought to keep straight."

"Look, Chuck, I can't get lost around here; I was born on this piece."

"But I wasn't."

"Keep your eyes open; you'll learn the landmarks. We're heading that way-" Hans pointed again. "-for that big tree." Charlie looked, saw several big trees. "We cut over a ridge. Pretty soon we come to my land. Okay?"

"I guess so."

"I won't let you get lost. Look, I'll show you the bush way to establish base-polarizers are for townies." He looked around, his quick eyes picking up and discard,ing details. "There's one." -

"One what?"

"Compa.s.s bug. Right there. Don't scare him. Back, Nixie!"

Charlie looked, discovered a small, beetle-like creature with striped wing casings. Hans went on, "When they fly, they take right off toward the Sun. Every time, -Then they level off and head home-they live in nests." Hans slapped the ground beside the little creature; it took 0ff as if jet propelled. "So the Sun is that way. What time is it?"

"Ten thirty, about."

"So where is base?"

Charlie thought about it. "Must be about there."

"Isn't that the way I pointed? Now find another compa.s.s bug. Always one around, if you look."

Charlie found one-frightened it, watched it take off in the same direction as the first. "You. know, Hans," he said slowly, "bees do something like that-fly by polarized light, I mean. That's the way they get back to their hives o~ cloudy days. I read about it."

"Bees? Those Earth bugs that make sugar?"

"Yes. But they aren't bugs."

"Okay," Hans answered indifferently. "I'll never see one. Let's get moving."

Presently they left cultivation, started into bush. Hans required Nixie to heel. Even though they were going uphill, the bush got thicker, became dense jungle. Hans led the way, occasionally chopping an obstacle.

He stopped. "Trash!" he said bitterly.

"Trouble?"

"This is why I wanted the flamer. This bit grows pretty solid."

"Can't we chop it?"

"Take all day with a bush knife; need heat on it. Going to have to poison this whole stretch 'fore I get a road through from Paw's place to mine."

"What do we do?"

"Go around, what else?" He headed left. Charlie could not see that Hans was following any track, decided he must know his way by the contour of the ground. About half an hour later Hans paused and whispered, "Keep quiet. Make Nixie keep quiet." -

"What for?" Charlie whispered back.

"Good chance you'll see kteela, if we don't scare them." He went noiselessly ahead, with the other boy and the dog on his heels. He stopped. "There."

Charlie oozed forward, looked over Hans' shoulder- found that he was looking down at a stream. He heard a splash on his right, turned his head just in time to see spreading ripples. "Did you see him?" asked Hans in a normal voice.

"Shucks, he was right there. A big one. Their houses are just downstream. They often fish along here. Have to keep your eyes open, Chuck." Hans looked thoughtful. "Kteela are people."

"Huh?"

"They're people. Paw thinks so. If we could just get acquainted with them, we could prove it. But they're timid. Come on-we cross here." Hans d~scended the bank, sat down on muddy sand by running water and started taking his shoes off. "Mind where you sit."

Charlie did the same. Bare-footed and bare-legged, Hans picked up Nixie. "I'll lead. This stretch is shallow -keep moving and don't stumble."

The water was warm and the bottom felt mucky; Charlie was glad when they reached the far side. "Get the leeches off," Hans commanded as he put Nixie down. Charlie looked down at his legs, was amazed to find half a dozen purple blobs, large as hens' eggs, clinging to him. Hans cleaned his own legs, helped Charlie make sure that he was free of the parasites. "Run your fingers between your toes. Try to get the sand fleas off as you put on your boots, too-though they don't really matter."

"Anything else in that water?" Charlie asked, much subdued.

"Oh, gla.s.s fish can bite a chunk out - of you. . . but they aren't poisonous. Kteela keep this stream cleaned up. Let's go."

They went up the far side, reached a stretch that was higher and fairly dry. Charlie thought that they were probably-going upstream, he could not be sure.

Hans stopped suddenly. "Dragonfly. Hear it?"

Charlie listened, heard the high, motor-like hum he had heard the night before. "There it is," Hans said quickly. "Hang onto Nixie and be ready to beat it off. I'm going to attract its attention."

Charlie felt that attracting its attention was in a cla.s.s with teasing a rattlesnake, but it was too late to object; Hans was waving his arms.

The fly hesitated, veered, headed straight for him. Charlie felt a moment of dreadful antic.i.p.ation-then saw Hans take one swipe with his machete. The humming stopped; the thing flOttered to the ground.

Hans was grinning. The dragonfly jerked in reflex, but it was dead, the head neatly chopped off. "Didn't waste a bit," Hans said proudly.

"Huh?"

"That's lunch. Cut some of that oil weed behind you." Hans squatted down. In three quick slices he cut off the stinger and the wings; what was left was the size of a medium lobster. Using the chrome-sharp machete as delicately as a surgeon's knife, he split the underside of the exoskeleton, gently and neatly stripped out the gut. He started to throw it away, then paused and stared at it thoughtfully. -