"The Charter is as moribund as the Naturalist Society. I don't mind telling you that the LPF is studying its options."

"Consider all the options you like. Plan ramps and overpasses to your heart's content, though how you can call this official business is beyond me. It's Peefer business and Julian business, at Conservancy expense. There, if you like, is cynicism."

Slowly Julian turned his head and surveyed Milo under hooded eyelids, and for an instant the curtain of genteel accommodation was torn.

Milo spoke with an unwonted edge in his voice.

"More than anything else you want to set a precedent for Peefer meddling in the environment. The next step would be to invite the Yips to lay claim to the land. The Peefers would build grand estates for themselves in the choicest areas of Deucas. Confine all the wild animals behind fences. I assure you, Julian, it won't work."

Julian gave an indifferent shrug.

"You are talking like a wild man. I suggest that you calm yourself. This is a tour of inspection. I will make recommendations. They may or may not carry weight. There is really nothing more to be said."

Pointedly he turned away from Milo and addressed Glawen:

"What does one do at Mad Mountain when the banjees aren't fighting?"

"Rest, relax, drink San-sue stingers and sun downers discuss the landscape with your fellow tourists. If you're keen for exercise, you can climb Mad Mountain. The trail is easy and relatively safe, and there are interesting things along the way. If you like souvenirs, you can look along the riverbed for thunder eggs, or go out on the battlefield--naturally, when no one is fighting--and scratch around for oddments. If you are truly adventurous, you might ride a bunter out to the banjee camp at Lake Dimple--once again, when the banjees are not in residence. If you're lucky, you might find a magic stone."

"What's a magic stone?" asked Wayness.

"And what's a bunter?"|| "The female banjees grind chunks of nephrite, lapis, malachite andr other colored stones into spheres or tablets and carry them in a net around their necks. When they go through the change, at about^ sixteen, and become male they throw the magic stones into the bushel or into the lake. So you can search the bushes or wade in the lake and;

perhaps you'll find a magic stone." | "That sounds interesting," said Julian.

"Perhaps I'll give it a try.| What is a bunter?" j "It's an ugly beast that can be ridden if it is suitably prepared. ItJ must be fed and soothed and put in a placid mood or it becomes quite:;

unpleasant." Julian made a dubious sound.

"How is this accomplished?"

"The Yip stable men are skilled at the process, which is rather complicated."

"Ha-hah!" said Julian.

"So Yips still do the dirty work."

"There are a few here and there that haven't been phased out."

"And why is that?"

"In all candor, no one else wants the job."

Julian gave a scornful laugh.

"The elitists ride the hunters and the Yips clean the stables."

"Ha, ha!" said Milo.

"The elitists must pay to ride the hunters. The Yips earn handsome salaries. The elitist returns home and goes back to work. The Yips give their money to Titus Pompo. We, incidentally, are paying our own way. You are the only elitist in the group."

"I am the agent of Warden Vergence, who is entitled to official courtesies."

Wayness thought to change the subject. She pointed to the savanna below.

"See those long lank white beasts! There must be thousands of them!"

Glawen looked down from the window.

"They are mono horn spring- backs, heading for the Zusamilla Wetlands where they do their breeding He manipulated the controls; the flyer dropped with a lurch that lifted his passengers' stomachs, then leveled off to drift five hundred feet above the ground, where the spring backs ran in tightly ordered ranks, the herd bristling with thousands of voluied six-foot horns.

"Springbacks have no eyes," said Glawen.

"No one knows how or even if they see. Still they find their way from the Big Red Scarp to Zusamilla Territory and back and never get lost. If you approach the herd, one will run out to stab you with its horn, then turn back and run hard to find its old place in the line."

Julian glanced down at the sliding white column, then rather ostentatiously began to read his guidebook.

Wayness asked: "Why do they run in curves and slants instead of going directly? Are they just careless?"

"Quite the reverse," said Glawen.

"Notice those little hillocks? The spring backs keep well clear, even if they must swing out to make a detour. Why? On top of each hillock lives a brood of fells. They're hard to see because they merge into the ground color. They sit waiting for some careless beast to wander nearby, to save them the trouble of hunting."

Milo scanned the landscape through binoculars. He pointed:

"Near the river in that tall blue grass I see some extremely ugly beasts. They are hard to pick out because their color is as blue as the grass itself."

"Those are monitor saurians," said Glawen.

"They change color to match the surroundings. You find them always in tribes of nine: no one knows why."

"They probably can't count any higher," suggested Milo.

"It might well be," said Glawen.

"Their four-inch-thick hides are proof against most predators, who tire of chewing on them."

Milo asked: "What's going on over there, under that vamola tree?"

Glawen looked through the binoculars.

"It's a bull bardic ant and a big one. He's either sick, or dying, or just resting. The skid dits have found him, but can't decide what to do. They're taking counsel and now they're trying to get one of the pups to climb on top of the bardic ant The pup wisely runs away. Someone else tries. Aha! The tail skewers him and he's gone down the gullet. The other skid dits flee in all directions."

"Excuse me," said Julian.

"All this is vastly entertaining and speaks well for your training, certainly in the field of animal identification. But I am anxious to arrive at Mad Mountain Lodge, so that I can get my survey organized."

"Just as you like," said Glawen.