Frowning, Craig nodded.
"Come now. The nearest of the places we seek is farther south."
Craig tilted his disc, following Bukal as the Baemae leader skimmed his own saucer away, high above the ranges.
Below them, another herd appeared. Another.
Bukal shouted, "Observe, Craig Nesom! They move north—all of them!"
The Earthman stared. Bukal's words were true. The scene below was like some vast migration—a sudden shift that turned the behemoths ever northward towards the barrier that separated this free land from the tyranny of the Kukzubas barons.
Too, these new herds were moving faster, hardly pausing to tusk up the rich roots on which the monsters fed.
They crossed a river. Bukal drifted his disc in close to Craig's. "Watch, now. From here on we may find ourobos."
Even as he spoke, a wild scream of rage, of terror, rose from a distant group of the djevoda.
"Quick—!" Bukal raced ahead.