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.I followed its gaze, used my torchto see what it had worked out.The sides of my slab were ripped vertically byancient geologic forces.A man could just about climb up there, but no dog.So? I shone back at Ranter.And it was smiling, its stare fixed above me.Above? I shone upwards and nearly peed myself in terror.There was anoverhang.Barely seven yards above my head the gully s side leaned in to forma shelf.Ranter could get me.I d had it.Any creature on earth could get upPage 60 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlthere, look down on me.Then leap and& and& I whimpered.The hound gave one last calculating stare, gauged the distance from the ledgeto me, then splashed off downstream, bounding from rock to rock with thatcasual lethal grace.A mad hope swept into me suddenly Shona had missed himand whistled one of those dog whistles to call him off.But no.The overhang was from the side opposite.No way to cross upstream, soit was doing the sensible thing.Downstream, where the gully flattened, itcould easily lope upslope to gain the plateau, then reach the projectinggranite and leap& I ve made it sound like miles.It was maybe a couple ofhundred yards, at most.I wondered if there was time to make a run for it& Butit had nearly caught me when I d had a start.And now I was knackered.I m notproud of what I did then.I blubbered and wailed, yelled for help.And didnothing.Wearily I discarded my jacket, some lunatic notion of wrapping it round myforearm for a last futile aquatic wrestle.It rattled.I felt in my pocket.Two stones.I pulled them out, still tied at opposite ends of the strongtwine.My bolus.That gave me& well, one go.The flopping sounded.I set one stoneswinging, set the other going, and stood upright with the thing hummingvibrantly in my right grip.Up and down, faster.Eyes on the tip of theoverhang, I shone the torch there.It was only when I saw his great head loomabove the overhang that I realized my stupidity.Too close.My perch was maybea square yard wide.Any hit would bring me down with him.He looked.For a millisec I saw puzzlement in his eyes as I leaned away, thebolus whirring.His head nodded up and down in time with my oscillating hand.Perhaps he could hear the string thrumming even over the torrent s din.Thenhis brow cleared.That humming cord in the man s hand was irrelevant.Orderswere orders.He was to hunt and kill, string or no strings.He gathered andleapt down on me.My arm came from behind.I was already in mid-throw when he left the lip.Thebolus met and tangled.The stones were still whipping round and round him as Iflung myself forward to avoid his hurtling mass.Foam pressed into my mouthand I was tumbling over, over.Stones slammed my legs, bum, head, shoulder.Noise deafened me.I rolled, engulfed and retching, too dazed to struggle orwonder which way was up.I was drowning.I lashed out, flailed at everythingelse not me.I was dying.Except the pandemonium was now somewhere else, with me no longer part of it.Iretched.Air.I was in air, not in the water.I breathed, vomited half of thetorrent back where it belonged, breathed and crawled.A vertical stone stoppedmy crawl.I lay there, done for and too terrified to struggle further in casethat damned hound heard me and came for me again.I lay, half hiding, halfresting.I must have dozed a few minutes, I suppose, not much more.Something pressed against my feet.Something floating, pushing.Perhaps a log?I withdrew my legs, shoved them out.Still there.It was being moved by the onrush.It was therefore inert.Ireached out, scrabbled a cobble up from beneath me, and lobbed it at thenudging thing by my feet.Thud.Not a splash, or a sharp crack of stone onstone.A thick bump.Laboriously I raised myself, extended a hand.Fur.I recoiled in panic,started away.But it hadn t growled.I felt.A huge paw.A great head.Ametal-studded collar.And, tethering its forepaws to its neck in astranglehold, twine.One of the stones seemed to have struck its eye.It wasmy hunter, my personal executioner.You can only retch a few times, they say, then the body gives up.True
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