The animal Free had killed the night before was still hanging from the tree branch where he had left it. Insects were buzzing around it as Morten passed on his way to the Lakeshore. The meat would spoil before they could get it cut for drying.
He searched for Free’s footprints leading away from the clearing. He crisscrossed the ground in an ever-widening arc, swinging down toward the shore. At last, as he came to the sandy beach, he found it. A trail of Free’s prints lead along the curve of the beach toward the far distant side. He glanced back toward the thick, squat column of the ship and waved to Arlee. He touched the radio control. “I’ve found it,” he said. “It leads straight along the beach.”
She heard him on the pilot’s channel and watched him on the screen at the pilot’s station.
