Neju instinctively dropped flat to the ground. In following his lead, the hunter coughed once, a projectile catching him in the chest even as he was dropping. Blood gurgled in his throat.
"That's one, by God!" one of the god-men cried in elation, and after another barrage of increased violence, they began to withdraw, nervously, darting glances at the quiet trees around them.
Neju remained motionless. Then, leaving his dead comrade, he set off at a lope in the direction of the makeshift camp.
When he arrived the villagers were still huddled fearfully together.
Neju walked to the circle of young hunters. "They killed Whenj just now," he said without preamble.
He sat down.
"Come here!" he said. "I want you all to come here!"
Slowly the natives gathered around him.
"Sit down."
They sat down, and Neju waited until they quieted. There was fear and uncertainty in the air; mothers darted anxious glances in the direction of their sons.