"Behind the ubar's box!" said the beast to me.

I regarded it, reluctant to leave it.

"Go," it said. "They will learn that even a gentleman knows how to fight.

"Are there many like you in your country?" I asked.

"Countries," it said.

"Countries," I said.

"Some," it said.

"I see," I said.

"Go," it said.

"What is your name?" I asked.

It made a noise. "That is my name," it said.

"I cannot pronounce it," I said.

"That is not my fault," it said.

"I suppose not," I said.

"I would really appreciate it, if you would leave," it said.

"Very well," I said.

I darted between two groups of men, each striking down at a twisting sleen. I heard screams. I saw that one of the sleen had its teeth fastened on the leg of a man. Several other men were about the periphery of the baiting pit. I hurried to one group of such men. "What are you doing here!" I cried. "Search for Bosk of Port Kar!"

"We do not know where he is!" protested a man. It was hard to see his features in the moonlight and shadows.

"There are sleen here!" cried another.

I struck the first fellow a rude blow with my fist, my sword in it. "Hurry!" I said. "Move!"

They rushed confusedly down to the sand.

"You, too!" I ordered another fellow.

"Yes, Sir!" he cried. I then ascended to some of the tiers before the ubar's box and stood there, as though directing the operation. With my sword, fiercely, I gestured to other fellows, that they, too, should hurry down to the sand. They did so.

"Who is in command?" called a minor officer, confused.

"I am," I said. "Look for Bosk of Port Kar!"

He, too, then hurried, taking two men with him, down to the sand. I looked about myself. The ubar's box was behind me. I returned my attention to the sand below. The beast must have uttered another command to the sleen. Suddenly, tom y amazement, they relinquished their attack and, together, bristling and snarling, slunk back, one after the other, through the small, grated opening through which they had emerged. A man, limping, hurried to the tiny gate and flung it down.

"Aiii!" cried a man, striking with his foot against an object on the sand.

"What is it?" cried another.

"It is a head!" cried the man, stepping back.

"There is a pouch here, on the sand," said a man.

"Here is the medallion of the ubar," said a man, lifting a chain and medallion.

"The pouch bears the sign of Belnar," said the man who had found the pouch.

"There are parts of a body about," said a man. "The sleen had them."

"The head is the head of Belnar!" cried a man, crouching down near it.

"The ubar is dead!" cried a man.

"The beast has done this," said an officer, in horror. "Kill it! Kill it!"

The men turned to the Kur. It took a brand from the fire plate beneath the oil vat and hurled it into the vat. Instantly a torrent of flame blasted upward from the vat. The men drew back. The Kur then, with a prodigious strength, slowly lifted the flaming vat of bloodied oil over its head. "Look out!" cried a man. "It will be crushed!" cried another. "Back!" cried another fellow. The beast hurled the vat away from itself, toward the men. They fled back. Two, screaming, were caught under the cauldron. For one terrible moment it had seemed as though the air itself had burst into flame.

"Regroup!" cried an officer. "Regroup!"

The Kur, at this time, did not attempt to escape, though I believe it might have made its way then at least from the baiting pit. Rather, it took six brands, still flaming, from the sand, scattered from the fire plate, and set them upright, torchlike, in a circular pattern about itself. It stood then within this ring, a ring with a diameter of some twenty feet. I wondered if such rings were occasionally erected on the steel worlds. I wondered if it had ever stood within such a ring before. The number six is a number of special significance to Kurii. This possibly has to do with the tentaclelike, multiply jointed, six-digited paw of the beast. This number, and its multiples and divisions, figures prominently in their organizations, their timekeeping and their chronology. They employ a base-twelve mathematics. The beast now stood within that circle, or ring. I did not understand the purpose of the ring, but I gathered that it was important to the beast. I recalled it had sent the sleen back to their lair. It would face the men alone, it seemed. I did not think it wanted their aid, nor mine.

Suddenly it began to leap about, turning in the ring. It even turned a backwards somersault, uttering what sounded like gibberish, and then, bounding up and down, struck at its knees and thighs. I think the men feared it had gone insane. These things, however, are signs of Kur pleasure. Then it stood upright and looked at me. I had no doubt its nocturnal vision saw me very well. Its lips curled back about its fangs. I smiled. The resultant statement, although perhaps somewhat fearsome in the abstract, was a Kur approximation of a human smile. It is very different, as would be clear if you saw it, from that baring of fangs which indicates menace. Too, the ears were not laid back, which is an almost invariable sign among Kurii of readiness to attack, of intent to do harm. "Farewell," I whispered to it. I saw the smile spread more widely. I suddenly realized that it had heard me, though the men between us could not.

"Ready," said an officer. "Be ready."

I saw spear points lower. The beast in its own ring was ringed, too, with steel.

It snarled at the men, and they hesitated. Then it threw back its great shaggy head and howled its defiance to the three moons, to the men who threatened it, to the universe and stars, to the world. Men shuddered, but did not break their circle. I admired them. They were good soldiers. Then the beast again turned its attention to the men. I thought I detected a low, almost inaudible growl. I saw the lips draw back again about the fangs, but this was no smile. For an instant, as it turned its head, its eyes, reflecting the light of one of the torches, blazed like molten metal. I saw the ears lay back against the side of the head.

Suddenly, at a word of command, the men rushed forward. The beast seized at spears, slapping them away, seizing some, breaking them, taking others, perhaps a dozen, in its body. I saw it standing, fighting and tearing, in the midst of men. More than one man I saw lifted and thrown aside. Then I saw it go down beneath bodies. Men swarmed about it, thrusting with their spears, some hacking downward with their swords. "We have killed it!" cried one of the men. "I smell glory," it had said. "It is a smell more exhilarating even than that of meat." "It is dead!" cried one of the men. "It is dead! cried another. Was there so much glory here, I wondered. It did not seem a likely place for glory, the sand of a baiting pit, in a torchlit moonlight, in a country far from its own. No monuments would be erected to this beast. There would be no odes composed. Surely it would never be revered among its people. It would not be remembered, nor, if they had them, would it be sung in there songs. Its glory, if it had it, would have been its own, perhaps the splendor of a lonely moment that only the beast itself truly understood, a moment that was its own justification, and that needed no other, a moment that was sufficient onto itself.

"It is moving!" cried a man in terror.

Suddenly, from the midst of those bodies, howling, the Kur, spears in its body, thrust upward clawing and raging like some force of nature. It stood knee deep in bodies.

"Kill it!" screamed the officer. Again men charged, with spears and swords. In the bloody tumult men struck even one another. I saw it reach out and tear a;man from his fellows, disposing of him, half decapitating him with a slash of fangs to the throat, and seize another, tearing his head from his body. Then it wen down, bloody and terrible, again, beneath the weight or iron, and men. That was the thing, I recalled, which had been cast out of its own world for its alleged weakness. "it is moving again!" screamed a man.