"I had much time to read when I lived in Cuffnells. And I form my own opinions."

"Bully for you. Nevertheless, the fact remains that somehow this medieval monarch has gotten control of the greatest artifact, the most superb machine, on this world. I can deal with him when I get to him. The problem is, how do I do it?"

"You mean, how do we doit?"

"Right. My apologies. Well, we shall see."

The Snark was let down the ways into The River amid much cheering and drinking. Burton was not as happy as he should have been. He had lost interest in it.

During the festivities, Oskas took him aside.

"You don't intend to leave soon, I hope? I am counting on you to help me take the great boat."

Burton felt like telling him to go to hell. That would, however, not be diplomatic, since the chief might decide to confiscate the Snark for himself. Worse, he might quit resisting the temptation to take Loghu to his bed. During the year he had given her some trouble, though he had made no violent moves. Whenever he got very drunk, which was often, he had openly asked her to move in with him.

There had been many uneasy moments when it looked as if he was going to take her by force. Frigate, whose nature was anything but belligerent, had intended to challenge him to a duel, though he thought that it was a stupid way to solve a problem. But honor demanded it, manhood demanded it, there was no other way out unless he and Loghu sneaked away some night. He would not leave the people with whom he had been so intimate so many years.

Loghu had told him, "No, you will not get killed or kill that savage and so arouse his people to kill you. Leave it to me."

Loghu had men astonished everybody, Oskas most of all, by challenging him to a fight to the death.

After recovering from the shock, Oskas had roared with laughter. "What? I should fight a woman? I beat my wives when they anger me, but I would not fight one. If I were to do this, it would not matter that I would kill you easily. I would be laughed at; I would no longer be Oskas, The Bear Claw, I would be The Man Who Fought a Woman."

"What will it be?" Loghu had said. "Tomahawk? Spear? Knife? Or bare hands? You have seen me in the contests. You know how good I am with all weapons. It is true that you are bigger and stronger, but I know many tricks you don't. I've had some of the best instructors in the world."

What she did not mention was that he was very intoxicated, very fat, and very much out of condition.

Had it been a man who talked to him like that, Oskas would have leaped upon him. Drunk as he was, he knew that he was in a quandary. If he killed this woman, he would be a public jest. If he didn't accept the challenge, he would be said to be afraid of her.

Monat, smiling, stepped forward. "Chief, Loghu is my very good friend. I am also a friend of yours. Why don't we drop this matter? After all, it is the drink that is speaking in you, not you yourself, Oskas, the chief, a mighty warrior on Earth and along The River. No one can blame you for refusing to fight a woman.

"However, it is not right that you should bother another man's woman. You would not do it if you were not full of whiskey. So, I say that from now on you must not treat this woman with anything but the respect you demand from other men toward your women.

"Now, as Burton has told you, I was once a great magician. I still have some powers left, and I will not hesitate to use them if you harm Loghu. I would do so reluctantly, since I have great respect for you. But I will if I have to."

Oskas turned pale beneath the dark skin and the flush of whiskey-heated blood. He said, "Yes, it must be the drink. No one can blame me for what I do when I am drunk."

No more was said that night, and the next day Oskas claimed to have been so intoxicated he did not remember anything about the party.

For several months, he had been cool though polite to Loghu. Lately, he had resumed making remarks to her, though he had not touched her. This may have been because Loghu had told him, in private so that he would not lose face, that she would slice open his belly if he so much as laid a hand on her. Following which, she would crush his testicles.

She reported that he had only laughed at her. Despite which, he was aware that, given a chance, she could do just what she said. Nevertheless, Oskas had a compulsive passion for her. Now that the time was drawing close for her to leave, he was again after her.

Burton, talking to him now, kept this in mind. It wouldn't do to have him think that he had little time left to get Loghu into his bed.

"No, we are not leaving. We will follow the plan that I have worked out for you, and I and my people will be among the vanguard when we seize the boat.

"However, as you know, it is essential that we get to the boat when it has stopped to draw lightning from a stone. If it's moving we have no chance. Now, I have calculated the area where the boat will stop nearest to this place. I can't pinpoint it. But I can say within four or five grailstones where it will stop in the evening.

"Our boat needs a shakedown cruise. I propose to take it on one tomorrow. I'll sail down to the place where the great boat will stop, and I'll look over the situation. We need to know the lay of the land if we are to attack the mighty vessel with any chance of success.

"Would you like to come along?"

Oskas had been looking at him narrow-eyed. Now his face cleared, and he smiled.

"Of course I will go along. I do not blunder blind into a battle.''

That took care of Oskas' unvoiced suspicion that the Snark would not return from the cruise. Even so, he stationed four men in a hut nearby to keep an eye on the boat, though he said nothing of it to Burton. That night, the entire crew sneaked out through the fog to the hills. There they retrieved the free-grails from a hole in the base of the mountain and brought them back to the boat. These were put in a hiding place behind what looked like a solidly secured bulk­head.

The next day, after breakfast, Oskas came aboard with seven of his best warriors. They crowded the vessel, but Burton did not complain. He began passing out lichen-alcohol flavored with ground irontree leaves. His crew had orders to be very abstemious. By midafternoon, the chief and his men were loud-mouthed, laugh­ing drunks. Even their lunch had not been enough to sober them to any extent. Burton kept pressing his guests with drinks. About an hour before they were to stop for dinner, the Indians were staggering around or lying on deck asleep.

It was easy to push the still conscious ones into the water and then throw the unconscious after them. Fortunately, the shock of the water woke up the latter. Otherwise, Burton would have felt com­pelled to pick them up and take them ashore.

Oskas, treading water, shook his fist at them and raved in Menomini and Esperanto. Laughing, Burton bent his thumb and all except the middle finger and jerked his hand upward. Then he held out his hand with the first and fourth fingers extended, the ancient sign of the "evil eye," a sign that in modern times had come to mean "bullshit."

Oskas became even more violent and colorful in his description of the many ways he would get revenge.

Kazz, grinning, threw the chief's grail to him so accurately that it struck him on the head. The warriors had to dive down after him. When they brought him up, two were forced to support him until he could regain consciousness.

Kazz thought that putting a lump on Oskas' head was very funny.

He would have considered it to be even a better joke if the chief had drowned. Yet, among his crewmates, he was as sociable, tender, and compassionate a man as anyone could ask for. He was a primitive, and all primitives, civilized or preliterate, were tribal people. Only the tribe consisted of human beings and were treated as such. All outside the tribe, though some might be considered friends, were not quite human. Therefore, they did not have to be treated as if they were completely human.