By the time I got there with my rifle, Pancho was just entering the camp, and Clifton Standish was lining up the entelodont in the sights of his bow. Hofmann was just ducking into their tent to grab his gun.
As the entelodont entered the camp, Standish loosed his arrow. For once it didn't miss, but struck with a meaty sound and buried itself in the animal's body between neck and shoulder.
The entelodont halted and whirled halfway round, looking this way and that to see what had punctured it. As it presented its broadside, Standish gave it another arrow, this time in the ribs. When it whirled about again, he gave it another on the other side.
The entelodont halted, hanging its head. Standish shot another arrow, into the beast's neck. Blood dripped from the animal's muzzle. It turned about and started to walk out of the camp. Outside the boundary it collapsed on the ground, where it lay, kicking in a feeble, uncoordinated way, until it died.
"Ya!" yelled Standish, "Who says I'm not a barbarian?" The silly galah screamed: "Yeow!" and pounded his chest with his fist.
"There's your trophy," I told him. "Bear a hand with cutting off and salting the head."
His expression changed. "You mean I've got to get all mucked up with blood and goo?"
"Of course! When did a true barbarian mind a little gore? Come on!"
He came on, though I could see he hated every minute of it. At least he didn't faint or vomit.
After that, things were quiet for the next couple of days. I shot an oreodont for Huang to dissect, getting blood all over himself again. We had to have another session with soap and brush. This was harder, since we had to haul our water from a little local stream.
Before the transition chamber arrived to take us back to Present, there was one more incident. I told you there was a bushy, open stretch on one side of our camp. The last day before the chamber arrived, I was in my tent when Beauregard called:
"Mr. Rivers! Come out; here's suthin' you gotta see!"
My sahibs and I arrived where Beauregard stood almost simultaneously: Huang with his camera, Standish with his bow, and Hofmann and I with our rifles. What Beauregard had called about was a full-grown male Brontotherium, ambling across the meadow and eating as it went. It was fully as large as one of the smaller adult elephants and can't have been over fifty meters away.
"There's your other trophy, sports," I said. "Who wants it?"
Standish and Hofmann muttered between themselves, and Hofmann said: "I'll pass. The hyaenodon skin will do me fine. Marta would never let me mount that critter's head in our living room; it wouldn't leave room for people."
"Me neither," said Standish. "The entelodont's enough for me. I suppose Reggie'd want me to help cut it up again?"
"Bloody right I would," I said.
"Well, anyway, I doubt if my bow would do the job." It was his first admission that his marvelous bow wouldn't kill anything in sight.
At the sound of our voices, the brontothere raised its head and took a couple of steps toward us. Hofmann and I checked our rifles.
Then the brontothere seemed to lose interest. I could imagine what was going on in that primitive little brain. Nothing over there smells good to eat, and those creatures don't look dangerous. Why waste time on them when there's all this lovely edible green stuff?
Of course that's just my imagining. All I can state as a fact is that the brontothere turned away and went back to its herbs. It ate and ate its way across the meadow and then, still eating, disappeared into a copse of trees.
You might say it was an anticlimax to our adventure; but on the whole I was just as glad things turned out as they did, with no homicides or other casualties. The main thing with loonies like Standish is that you can never be sure what they'll do next, so you don't know what precautions to take.
And that's the story of the strangest client I've had, although when I think back I could tell of some who ran Standish a close second and maybe outdid him. The chamber arrived on time; we boarded with our trophies; and Cohen the chamber wallah whisked us back to Present without further complications.
I haven't heard about Frank Hofmann since. Standish did break into the news about a year ago. Seems he married a girl who turned out to be a bit of a tart. A few months later, he caught her in bed with another bloke, whom he promptly strangled to death. He must have been stronger than he looked. He was acquitted at the trial, dumped the dame, and dropped out of sight.
As I said, these safaris can be fun; but more often it's a case of batting down one bloody emergency after another. I've come to hate surprises. And don't forget to send me a copy of this interview when it's printed!