by Mike Lewis
somewheres."
"Cubs?"
"Yes, suh. She's spooky-like. Cubs. You stay with my dawgs. Take careof 'em, suh."
"Sure, Han."
"You lemme be now, suh. Lemme be alone." His voice was a faintwhisper. "I gotta die by myself. Man oughtn't to have company then."
Morgan hesitated. He sighed and climbed slowly to his feet. Hestumbled away, leaving the lantern hanging overhead. He sat a hundredyards away in the shadow of a gaunt cypress, listening to the bayingof the hounds, the moaning of the old man, and the croaking of theswamp. When he returned, the oldster was dead.
Morgan returned to the shanty at dawn, carrying a pair of whimperingpanther cubs and the skin of the mother. He exchanged a dark glancewith Shera at the door. She took them silently and fondled them for amoment.
"Hanson's dead."
She nodded gravely. "Soon there'll be no one but Oren."
"The collectivum."
They went inside and sat facing one another. His eyes moved over thedark slope of her shoulders, the proud set of her breasts, and back tothe sweetly sullen face with its narrow eyes.
"I'm going to join you," he said.
The eyes widened a little. She shook her head quickly. "In a liaisonof two? No. It might spread, get linked up with Oren."
"Not if it's through these." He stroked one of the cubs. It snarled.
"It's a chance."
"We'll take it." He leaned forward to kiss her....
* * * * *
A year had passed since the night of Hanson's death. A freight traindragged southward in the twilight, wending its way through pine forestand scrubland. Oren was its crew. It crossed a trestle and movedthrough a patch of jungle. A sudden shadow flitted from the brush,leaped the ditch, and sprinted along beside the rails. Anotherfollowed it, and another. The low-flying shadows slowly overtook theengine. The leader sprang, clung for a moment by its forepaws, andpulled itself aboard. Brakes howled on the rails as Oren stopped thetrain. Two man-figures leaped from the cab--and into the jaws of akiller-cat.
Another cat scrambled upon the tender, leaped to the top of a box-carand sped backward along the train to seek the rest of the crew. Thebodies were left in the ditches.
When it was over, the cats collected in a group on the road-bed. Theysat licking their forepaws while a dozen shabbily dressed guerrillasmoved out of the jungle in a disorderly band.
"Joe, have your bunch unload the dynamite!" bawled a burly leader."We'll take the tank-car. Emmert, get the packs on those carts."
"I wonder," said a voice to a comrade, "who's controlling thoseanimals. You'd think they were Oren. Why don't they sting?"
"Stingers ripped out, chum. Why ask questions? They're on our side.And we'll win, eventually--if this keeps up."
* * * * *
As a group, the panthers looked at the two men as they passed. One ofthem shuddered.
"Lordy! I'd swear those cats were grinning!"
* * * * *
