As self-discipline and a standard precaution, my lovely one." He hitched his own gun-and-knife belt back into place as be stepped out of his overalls, then pulled off boots and shirt and got bare save for the belt and three other weapons that did not show when he was dressed. "In more years than I like to think about I have never been unarmed except when locked in somewhere safe. I want you to acquire the habit. Not just sometimes. Always."

"All right. I left my belt on the seat; I'll get it. But, Woodrow, I'm not much of a fighter at best."

"You're fairly accurate with that needle gun up to fifty meters. And you're going to get better and better the longer you live, with me. Not just with it but with anything that shoots, cuts, burns, or even makes nasty bruises, from your bare hands to a blaster. See over there, Dorable?" He pointed to nothing but flatness. "In just seven seconds a horde of hairy savages will come pouring over the top of that rise and attack. I get a spear through my thigh and go down...then you have to fight them off for both of us. What are you going to do, you poor little girl, with your gun clear over them on the seat of that wagon?"

"Why"-she set her feet apart, put her hands back of her head, and gave a wiggle that was invented in the Garden of Eden, or perhaps just outside-"I'll' go this way at 'em!"

"Yes," Lazarus agreed thoughtfully, "that should work. If they were human. But they aren't. Their only interest in tall, beautiful, brown eyed girls is to eat them. Bones and all. Silly of them, but that's how they are."

"Yes, dear," she said docilely. "I'll go put on my gun belt. Then I'll kill the one who speared you. Then I'll see how many more I can get before they eat me."

"That's right, durable Dorable. Always take an honor guard with you. If you have to go, go down fighting. The size of your guard of honor determines your status in hell."

"Yes, dear. I'm sure I'll enjoy hell if you're there, too," She turned to fetch her weapons.

"Oh, I'll be there! They wouldn't take me anywhere else. Dora! When you put on your gun belt, take off your sun-bonnet and boots-and put on your rubies, all of them."

She paused with a foot on the step of the wagon. "My rubies, dear? Out here on the prairie?!"

"Rangy Lil, I bought those rubies for you to wear and, for me to admire you wearing them."

She flashed a smile that turned her normally serious expression into sunshine, swung on up into the wagon and disappeared. She was back quickly wearing weapons belt and rubies but had taken a few seconds to comb her hair-long and chestnut brown and shining. That she bad not been able to bathe for more than two weeks did not show, did not detract from her enchanting, youthful beauty. She paused on the step and smiled at him.

"Hold it!" he said, "Perfect! Dora, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in all my born days."

She flashed him another smile. "I don't believe that, my husband-but I hope you will go on saying it."

"Madam, I cannot tell a lie. I say it only because it is the simple truth. Now, what were you saying about the little rooster?"

"Oh! That perverted little monster! I said he had been breaking eggs on purpose! This time I caught him. Pecking them. Two freshly laid broken eggs!"

"Royal prerogative, dear. Afraid one of them would hatch out a rooster."

"I'll wring his neck! If we had a fire, I'd do it right now. Darling, I was trying to see what we could eat cold without opening anything not already open, and it occurred to me that salt crackers crumbled into raw eggs would almost make a meal. But there were only three eggs today and he broke the two laid by his hens. I'd put plenty of grass in both cages; the one egg on the other side wasn't even cracked. Damn him. Woodrow, why do we have to have two roosters?"

"For the same reason I carry two throwing knives. Sweetheart, alter we arrive and hatch our first chicks, once they're big enough that I'm certain of a spare rooster, we can have rooster and dumplings with him as guest of honor. Not before."

"But we can't have him breaking eggs. Tonight's supper will be mostly cheese and hardtack-unless you want me to open something."

"Let's not rush it. Fritz and Lady Mac are trying to spot game right now. Prairie goat, I hope. Loper if not."

"But I can't cook meat. You said. You did say-"

"Raw, my dear. Haunch of prairie goat, chopped fine, and spread on hard crackers. Beef Tartare a la New Beginnings. Tasty. Tastes almost as good as girl." He smacked his lips.

"Well...if you can eat it, I can eat it. But half the time, Woodrow, I don't know whether you are joking or not."

"I never joke about food or women, Dorable; those are sacred subjects." He looked her up and down again. "Speaking of women, woman, dressing you in rubies is just right. But why a bracelet around your ankle?"

"Because you gave me three bracelets, sir. As well as rings and a pendant. And you said to wear all of them."

] "So I did. Where did this one come from?"

"Hey! That's not a ruby; that's me!"

"Looks like a ruby. Here's another just like it."

"Unh! Maybe I'd better take my rubies off? So we won't lose them. Or should we water the mules first?"

"You mean before we eat?"

"Uh...yes, I guess that's what. I mean. Tease."

"You're not speaking very plainly, little Dora. Tell Uncle Gibbie what you want."

"I'm- not 'little Dora.' I'm Rangy Lil, the horniest girt south of Separation-you said so yourself. I cuss and I swear and I spit between thy teeth and I'm concubine to Lazarus Long, Super Stud of the Stars and better than any six men- and you know damn well what I want, and if you pinch my nipples again, I'm likely to trip you and take it. But I guess we ought to water the mules."

Minerva, Dora was just plain nice to be around, always. It wasn't her physical beauty...which wasn't that outstanding by the usual criteria in any case-although she was utterly beautiful to me. Nor was it her enthusiastic interest in sharing "Eros"-although she was indeed enthusiastic, ready any time, and always on a short fuse. And skilled at it and got more so; Sex is a learned art, as much so as ice skating or tight wire walking or fancy diving; it is not instinct. Oh, two animals couple by instinct, but it takes intelligence and patient willingness to turn copulation into a high and lively art. Dora was good at it and got better and better, always eager to learn, free of fetishes or silly preconceptions, patiently willing to practice anything she learned or was taught-and with it that spiritual quality that turns sweaty exercise into a living sacrament.

But Minerva, love in what still goes on when you ate not horny.

Dora was good company at any time, but the tougher things were, the better companion she was. Oh, she fretted about broken eggs because chickens were her responsibility; she did not complain that she was thirsty. Instead of nagging me to do something about that rooster, she figured out what had to be done and did it-shoved all the hens in with the other rooster, tied the feet of the egg breaker and laid him aside while she moved the partition between the cages, then the smaller rooster was in solitary confinement and we lost no more eggs.

But the truly tough parts lay ahead of us; she did not fret at all during those, or ever turn balky when I did not have time to explain. Minerva, much of the trek was slow death, other parts were sudden dangers that could have been, quick death. She was endlessly patient in the former, always kept her head and helped in the latter. Dear, you are awesomely learned-but you are a city girl and you've always been on a civilized planet; perhaps I had better explain some things.

Maybe you have been asking yourself: "Is this trip necessary?"-and; if it is, why do it the hard way?