Robert Adams - A Man Called Milo Morai

“Uncle Milo,” said Hwaltuh earnestly and solemnly, “I am very sorry about the death of that boy, Rahjuh Vawn of Skaht, and poor young Daiv Kripin of Linsee, conscientious as he is, goes absolutely crushed that he did not think in the excitement of the moment to see that at least one boy or girl remained down here to see to the helpless lad.- He feels that he has failed in discharge of his assigned responsibilities this day, fears that the losses of a Skaht boy, a Skaht mare and her foal may recommence the feud and that that too will be his fault. What can I say to him?”

Milo looked at the other warrior, who now stood beside him and Hwaltuh. “What would you say to such a lad in such a case, Hunt Chief Tchuk?”

Tchuk Skaht shook his head sadly. “It’s not that poor, brave lad’s fault, not any of it, not the deaths of mare or foal or … or Rahjuh. Part of the fault for his death rests squarely upon my shoulders, for I flung him into that firepit and burned him. But the larger part of that fault lay upon Rahjuh himself, for had he not been dangerously insubordinate, there would have been no reason for me to so harshly discipline him. Nor do any of my younger Skahts seem to hold this Daiv Kripin of Linsee culpable—they only seem to regret that they were not here to share in the battle against these whatever-you-called-thems.”

“Then,” said Milo, “I think that you and Hwaltuh and a couple of your young Skahts should seek Daiv out and tell him what you just told me. Make certain that one of the young Skahts you take along is a pretty, unattached girl, eh?”

Tchuk Skaht nodded, with a broad grin and a wink.

As Milo and his hunt lay upon the large, flat-topped rock drying their bodies and hair in the sun, the three cats crouched around a heaping pile of pig offal, gorging on the rich, fatty fare, while Milo and Gy Linsee mindspoke them.

“We all are in your debt, cat sister,” Milo informed the stray jaguar female. “But for your ferocity, Crooktail feels that he would surely have been killed or at least seriously injured by the skunk-wolves. And Subchief Hwaltuh still is amazed at how you dashed in and, at great risk to yourself, bit clean through the spine of that skunk-wolf that was savaging the body of the boy. What can we do to repay you?”

Tilting up her neat head, her eyes closed, her gleaming carnassials scissoring off a tasty section of pig gut, the spotted cat beamed, “Crooktail has told this cat that if a cat helps you twolegs to hunt and to guard your fourleg grasseaters from wolves and bears and other cats, you will always provide meat and a warm, dry place to sleep with safety for kittens and cubs until they are big enough to protect themselves. Is this true?”

“Yes,” beamed Milo simply.

She swallowed the piece of pig gut and immediately went to work detaching another length, sublimely unheeding of the metallic-hued flies buzzing and crawling upon her bloody face and the bloodier feast that lay before her. “It sounds a better, more secure life than following the herds of horned beasts and trying to find and claim a hunting ground where no big cat now lives, and being always fearful of dying of hunger in the long, white-cold. Could this cat become such a cat as Crook-tail, twoleg brother of cats?”

“Crooktail’s clan will be honored to include so valiant a new cat sister amongst its fighters,” Milo assured her. “But by what name is our cat sister called?”

“Why not call her Spotted One?” beamed Snowbelly, in friendly fashion.

As he lay back and relaxed in the warm sunlight, Milo wondered if the prairiecats and the jaguar were closely enough related to produce fertile kittens or any kittens at all, then mentally shrugged. Only time would tell, in that matter.

But in a closer matter, there was no slightest doubt as to the speedy outcome. In the midst of the gathering of nude, damp boys and girls on the rock, Karee Skaht, Myrah Skaht and Gy Linsee now were thoroughly occupied with one another, completely ignoring the others around them.

Karee half sat on the supine boy’s upper chest, presenting her wet blond pudenda to his eager lips and darting tongue. Gasping her pleasure, her small hands twisted through his dark, loosened hair while his larger hands kneaded and pinched and caressed her small, pointy breasts.

Myrah was astride Gy’s loins, her knees and shins pressed to the rockface, head thrown back, eyes scewed tightly shut, spine arched, hands clenched, every line and muscle showing tension as she rocked slowly back and forth, back and forth.

Milo reflected that, in company with Gy Linsee and his two hot-blooded young wives, the next few years of traveling should be anything but boring.