"You don't say," said Karsten. "Who got him?"
Emmett smiled. "A Mr. Thompson, down from the northern part of the district. The body was so big that Thompson had it skinned and tanned, and made a really nice-looking rug out of it. He sent me a picture to show me."
Thurman's eyes were wide with delight. "Amazing," he said.
"As for myself," commented Karsten. "I don't hold with this rug business. They're all right, I guess, for those who like them. But they get torn up so easily. Human beings just aren't thick skinned enough, I suppose."
"Two hundred and fifty pounds," mused Thurman out loud.
"If he weighed, an ounce," Emmett said. "You don't get many that size, you know." He looked at the two hunters, then smiled securely. "So shall we just follow my lead and head for the pass first thing?"
"All right with me," Thurman said.
"Me, too," said Karsten. He belched loudly, then rubbed his stomach gently. "I think I ate too much for breakfast," he said.
The way to the little pass led up over the crest of one of the smaller mountains. The three men jogged along at an even pace over the level ground, but traveled more slowly up the steep facing of the mountainside. The two hunters often complained about the heat and the terrain as they rode. Emmett said little except when he urged them to hurry along.