I knelt in the slave cage, my hands on its bars.
I had locked myself in the slave cage. When I had flung down the vertically sliding gate behind me, two notched projections, bolts, welded to the flat bar at the gate's bottom had slipped into iron-inclosed spring catches, heavy locks, one on the bottom left, one on the bottle right, the gate being thus secured. I could not open these locks. They responded to a key, slung on the string about the neck of Thurnus. It is necessary to engage the locks not only because the animal follows so closely and the gate must be swiftly lowered, but because if the locks are not engaged, it will thrust its snout beneath the bottom of the gate, between the bottom of the gate and the floor of the cage, and, throwing its head up, fling up the gate, and have access to the cage's occupant. The girl's choices are simple. Either she locks herself in the cage, imprisoning herself helplessly at the pleasure of the cage owner, or the animal destroys her.
I, frightened, watched the sleen tear at the meat.
I knelt in the cage, my fists, white-knuckled, clenched on the bars. The cage is tiny, but stout. I could kneel in it, or crouch, or sit, with my legs drawn up. I could not extend my body, nor stand upright. The roof of the cage was about the height of a man's belt. It is so constructed that it can be linked with other cages, or tiered. Though there is a wooden floor to the cage, the wood is placed over bars. The entire cage, thus, is barred. The bars, and their fastenings, were heavy. The cage in which I had locked myself would hold not only a girl; it would also have easily and efficiently held a strong man. It was, accordingly, an all-purpose slave cage.
I looked up through the bars. Clitus Vitellius did not look at me. Already I had been given to Thurnus.
The cage was in a sleen training pit, surrounded by a low, wooden wall and floored with sand. Within the walls were several individuals, my sisters in bondage, those still the property of Clitus Vitellius, one of whom was encaged like myself, Chanda, who was sitting in her cage, wrapping a cloth about her bleeding leg; Thurnus; another of his girls, Sandal Thong; some men assisting Thumus; and Clitus Vitellius, and some of his men. Within the ring, too, were some eight sleen, tied on short tethers to stakes, at the sides; and a rack of meats, and poles, and ropes and whips, used in the training of the animals. Outside the low walls, several individuals observed the proceedings, the balance of the men of Clitus Vitellius, some villagers, including some peasant boys, and Melina, veiled, the slack, fat companion of the huge Thurnus.
Melina regarded me. I did not meet her eyes, but looked down, into the dust.
I was a pretty slave girl who had been given to her companion. I did not care to meet her eyes. I hoped she would not be cruel to me. But she was of the peasants, and I was only a slave.
I looked across the sand to Chanda. She, too, was locked in a tiny cage. She sat on the boards, hunched over, her legs drawn up, and slowly wrapped a piece of white cloth about her bleeding calf. The blood stained through the cloth. The bit of a garment that she wore had also been torn by the beast who had pursued her. It, too, afterward had been fed. When it had been fed, it had been tethered with the others. The men discussed the animals, and their merits.
I held the bars and, head down, eyes closed, pressed my forehead against the bars. What hope had a girl for escape on a world which contained sleen?
I and Chanda had been used for purposes of demonstration.
Sleen had been dragged to us, to take our scent. We had been held by men while the animals had taken our scent. Then Chanda had been released.
She had been run first. Then I had been released. I had been run shortly after her.
I had run wildly, in misery over having been given away by Clitus Vitellius. I had fully determined, in my hysteria and misery, to escape. What a foolish slave girl I was!
I had run wildly. I had almost fainted when a brown, sinuous shape sped past me.
I saw it turn Chanda, and, snarling, begin its attack. She fled back toward the training pit. I saw her stumble once, and the beast seize her leg, and she screamed, and then she was again on her feet, running, her hands extended before her. The girl either permits herself to be herded expeditiously, swiftly, or she dies. I turned to flee. I screamed. It was there, in front of me. It lifted its head. I stumbled back, my hand flung before my face. It snarled hideously. Distracted by the first sleen, that in pursuit of Chanda, I had not even seen this sleen, whose brain was alive with my scent, circle me and approach.
"No! No!" I cried. "Go away! Please, go away!"
It crouched there, not five feet from me, its head lifted, hissing, snarling.
"Please, go away!" I Wept.
I saw its belly lower itself to the ground, the bead still lifted, watching me. Its tail lashed; its eyes blazed. It inched forward. It had two rows of fangs.
I looked to the left and right. It squealed hideously. It came closer.
It was a precisely trained beast, but no training is perfect. It is a balancing of instincts and conditioning. It is never perfect. The beast, at the nearness and intensity of my scent, was becoming uncontrollable. The critical attacking distance for a sleen in the wild is about twenty feet. This distance, in a herd sleen, of course, is much smaller. I could see its excitement mount. The fur about its neck rippled and bristled. Then I saw it gather its four hind legs beneath it.
With a cry of misery I turned and fled. I ran back toward the training pit and the open cage that had been designated for occupancy by the Earth-girl slave.
I ran wildly, helplessly. It ran behind me, snapping and snarling. I felt its breath on my legs. It cut with its teeth at my heels. I gasped. I fought for breath. It drove me faster and faster.
The beast was well trained. It knew well how to herd a slave girl. It had a sense of the distance, and of my limitations; its speed and endurance which, I suspect, were superior to my own. It had herded other girls. It kept me at my limits, not permitting me to think, but only to run, frenziedly, madly, a driven, herded slave girl, seeking her cage.
I was at its mercy. It set me the pace which I must make, if I would live.
I cried out with misery, running.
It drove me perfectly.
My only hope of survival was to reach the cage, and lock myself within it, where I would await, confined, the pleasure of a master.
I threw myself into the cage on my hands and knees and, wildly, turned and flung down the gate behind me, it securely locking. The beast tried to reach me, but could not do so. I was safe within the cage, but locked within it, at the mercy of a master. I had been herded.
What hope had a girl for escape on a world which contained sleen? How completely we belonged to our masters!
There are many varieties of sleen, and most varieties can be, to one extent or another, domesticated. The two most common sorts of trained sleen are the smaller, tawny prairie sleen, and the large, brown or black forest sleen, sometimes attaining a length of twenty feet. In the north, I am told the snow sleen has been domesticated. The sleen is a dangerous and fairly common animal on Gor, which has adapted itself to a variety of environments. There is even an aquatic variety, called the sea sleen, which is one of the swiftest and most dreaded beasts in the sea. Sea sleen are found commonly in northern waters. They are common off the coast of Torvaldsland, and further north.
In the wild, the sleen is a burrowing, predominantly nocturnal animal. It is carnivorous. It is a tenacious hunter, and an indefatigable tracker. It will attack almost anything, but its preferred prey is tabuk. It mates once a year in the Gorean spring, and there are usually four young in each litter. The gestation period is some six months. The young are commonly white furred at birth, the fur darkening by the following spring. Snow sleen, however, remain white-pelted throughout their life.
Most domestic sleen are bred. It is difficult to take and tame a wild sleen. Sometimes young sleen, following the killing of the mother, are dug out of a burrow and raised. If they can be taken within the first two months of their life, which seems to be a critical period, before they have tasted blood and meat in the wild, and made their own kills, there is apparently a reasonably good chance that they can be domesticated; otherwise, generally not. Although grown, wild sleen have been caught and domesticated, this is rare. Even a sleen which has been taken young may revert. These reversions can be extremely dangerous. They usually take place, as would be expected, in the spring, during the mating season. Male sleen, in particular, can be extremely restless and vicious during this period. The mating of sleen is interesting. The female, if never before mated, flees and fights the male. But he is larger and stronger. At last he takes her by the throat and throws her upon her back, interestingly, belly to belly, beneath him. His fangs are upon her throat. She is at his mercy. She becomes docile and permits her penetration. Shortly, thereafter, their heat growing, they begin, locked together by legs and teeth, to roll and squeal in their mating frenzy. It is a very fierce and marvelous spectacle. It is not unusual for slave girls, seeing this, to kneel at their master's feet and beg their caress. After the female sleen has been taken thusly once, no longer need she be forced. She follows the male, often rubbing against him, and hunts with him. Sometimes she must be driven away with snarls and bites. Sleen, interestingly, often pair for life. Their rutting, however, is usually confined to the spring. Sometimes slave girls are called she-sleen, but I do not think this expression is completely apt. Sexual congress in the human is not confined to a particular season. We are not she-sleen. The heat of the she-sleen occurs in the spring. We are slave girls. Our masters keep us in heat constantly.