It was a silent struggle. The boy realised that he was doomed. He had often watched from the undergrowth as a serpent crushed its victim to death. The boy didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. There was a crack as the spear, pressed against his side with his arm, snapped in two.
The fanged head of the spotted predator slung over his shoulder was used by Av as a kind of pocket or bag. A spare spear-point was kept between the jaws. If only he could get at it!
The serpent, its coils wound round his body, was rolling over the ground with him.
The boy was still alive, straining muscles that were on the verge of giving way. He was also watching out for a moment when the maw of the spotted predator was facing the ground.
Fortunately, the serpent itself was rolling its victim over in order to exhaust him completely. Ave’s hope was justified: the spare spear-point fell out.
He could see it quite near him, but could not reach it with his hand pinned to his side.
From time to time, the serpent loosened its coils to deceive its victim, let him relax and then squeeze him with renewed force.
Av waited for the moment when he could move his wrist and snatched up the spear-point with the sharp prickles on its end.
At this moment, the serpent evidently decided to finish off its obdurate prey once and for all; it tightened its coils so hard that Av fainted.
When he came round, he felt that he was being crushed as before by a long, muscular body, but it was not throbbing as it had done during the struggle. There was indeed something dead about its death-grip. It turned out that even when unconscious, Av had continued straining his body to resist being crushed. Now he relaxed, trying to make himself as thin as possible and began gradually crawling out of the dead serpent’s rigid coils.
And so, after surviving and beating in single combat a terrible serpent, Av could receive on coming of age a name associated with his victory.
But he was still just a brave, agile boy for whom manhood was yet to come. He used to dream about this time, developing his own courage and strength.
Although he had become a hunter, he grew up to be kind-hearted nevertheless and he never killed animals except out of dire necessity.
He enjoyed watching from a tree as the little animals frolicked about near their lair.
They were four-footed beasts with mouths full of teeth and they could not climb trees. They had long muzzles, erect ears and bushy tails. They only attacked small animals. In case of need, however, they could hunt in packs and set upon the big denizens of the forest.
Av thought it might be a good idea to train these little animals. His father, after all, had mentioned the domesticated lizards on Faena, which Av imagined to have been a faraway, fabulous land from which his parents had flown like birds.
The little animals were playing on the glade, in full view of Av up in a tree-top.
The little grey balls of fur were rolling over the grass, somersaulting, growling and fighting endlessly with one another. Or they chased one another tirelessly across the glade.
Av saw a cub he liked the look of. He jumped down from his tree no less nimbly than a serpent and seized hold of the terrified little animal. It clawed and bit him, but Av clutched it to his chest and ran off, stuffing its sharp-toothed little muzzle into the spotted predator’s skin that he wore for camouflage.
He took his prize home—it had been quietened down by the warmth of his body-fed it and began training it.
His mother was very much surprised at his behaviour. His younger brothers and sisters were in raptures.
The little animal used to play with them. It grew up quickly and became attached to Av. It was evidently in no way inferior to the domesticated lizards of Faena.
When the animal had grown up a little, Av decided to train it to go hunting with him. His father smiled condescendingly at the idea, but in no way interfered with his son’s experiments.
Av called his future helper Ding.
The disaster occurred after a domestic ceremony at which Av had been awarded his new name. Serpent, in honour of his victory over that creature.
Serpent insisted that his mother should let Avik go hunting with him. It was time he became an assistant provider.
His younger brother was beside himself with joy and ready to follow Av anywhere.
Ding, of course, had to go with them. Gifted with an amazing nose, he could scent game even before Serpent had noticed it.
…Serpent came back from the hunt alone.
His mother tore her hair and screamed frantically at him:
“You’ve killed him, you’ve killed my Avik!”
Serpent turned pale at these words. They were unfair. Serpent could not have been accused of such a crime, although he was partly to blame.
The brothers were walking through the forest. Ding was running ahead. Suddenly, he stopped and growled. His fur bristled.
Just at that moment, a huge shaggy body fell on him from above. Serpent had heard from his father about the Faetoids which had carried him off as a baby.
Now a beast like one of those described by his father had seized Ding, who yelped, went hoarse and then was silent.
The shaggy beast rushed off with its prey.
Without thinking of his brother (and this was where he was terribly at fault!), he ran after the Faetoid.
The beast was, however, more agile. But Serpent had a determined nature, however. He neither wanted to nor was he capable of backing out, any more than his mother, the young Mada Jupi.
With his keen hunter’s instinct, he noticed which way the beast had run. Although slower than the beast, he was unerringly following in its tracks.
Serpent found it under a wide-branching tree where it imagined itself to be safe and was devouring the luckless Ding.
Serpent went mad with rage. He did not even shoot an arrow. Blind with fury, incapable of containing himself, he hurled himself at the beast and caught it unawares.
The Faetoid proved smaller than Serpent had imagined at first. He was much stronger and, above all, much more experienced than his opponent. Moreover, he knew his father’s fighting tricks.
Serpent overthrew the creature; it lay helpless beside the mangled corpse of Ding which it had not yet finished eating. Serpent was just about to finish the creature off, when it said:
“Do r-rationals kill those who are lying down?”
Serpent jumped back and asked in horror:
“Who are you, a talking beast?”
“I am a r-rational amid Terrans.”
The creature was talking in Serpent’s native Faetian, but with an unfamiliar burr. Even so, it was talking. The flabbergasted Serpent let go of it. He wanted to ask where it came from and who had taught it Faetian.
But the beast, which called itself rational and was able to speak, was cunning into the bargain.
No sooner had Serpent relaxed his hold, prepared to carry on with the conversation, than his shaggy opponent sprang on to its hind-legs and jumped up onto the lowest branch of the tree. A moment later, it vanished into the foliage.
The dismayed Serpent rushed in pursuit of the Faetoid, but then stopped, deep in thought.
Only then did he fear for his brother Avik. What had happened to him? The little boy must have been left behind while he chased after the talking beast.
Stifling his alarm. Serpent ran back over the scarcely noticeable tracks that had brought him to the spot. Serpent could run for great distances without losing his breath. But this time he felt short of air, his lungs were ready to burst and his heart seemed about to jump out of his breast. Even so, he did not slow down until he reached the ill-fated spot where poor Ding had been carried off.