Lakkon's eyes flashed. The meaning of this wonder-worker's statement if proved, which he did not doubt, swept all else out of his mind for the time. "What do you require?" he asked in a tense tone.
Croft glanced about. Below him near the lake in a mountain meadow were some of the strange sheep-like cattle, knee deep in grass. He gestured toward them with his hand. "Permission to slay one of those."
"Granted, so be you can do it," Lakkon smiled. The distance was twice the range of any bow.
Croft reflected the smile as he made answer. "If the princess may be summoned." He turned and took the rifle from the car.
Lakkon eyed it with unconcealed interest. He called the Mazzerian from within the door and directed that Naia be bidden to appear.
While they waited, Croft opened the magazine and extracted a bullet. He was explaining it to Lakkon when Naia hurried forth. "A powder within the shell furnishes the power to propel the ball in the end," he finished in time to greet her. "And now Prince Lakkon, to take you at your word." He lifted the shining barrel.
"What would you do?" Naia exclaimed.
"Behold," said Croft and fired.
Far below in the meadow one of the woolly creatures appeared to stumble, to stagger a pace or two forward before it sank into the grass.
"Zitu!" came Lakkon's voice.