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Wingover shrugged. "I haven't the vaguest idea what
it is. I've never seen anything like it."
They went on, and within a few minutes were close
enough to see more details of the creeping thing. More
than a spearhead now, it resembled half a bellows, parti-
ally closed. A series of slender ribs extended back from
the forward point, all covered over with a layer of white
fabric pleated so that each fold at the rear draped at least
two feet below the rigid supports. Near the rear was a
thing like a wicker basket, two or three feet across, set
into the fabric so that only the top of it was clearly visible
from behind. Narrow, slightly bowed poles slanted out-
ward below the basket-thing, each tipped with a wheel
that was nothing more than a metal ring braced from a
hub by thin, gleaming wires. Beyond, someone was
walking, only his feet visible, the rest of him hidden by
the forward point of the contrivance.
"Maybe it's some kind of a rollable tent," Wingover
suggested.
"Half an umbrella?" the elf wondered.
"That big? Nobody would build an umbrella that big.
And why does it have wheels?"
"Maybe because it's too big to carry."
They came closer, and a suspicion arose in Wingover's
mind. He swung into his saddle, touched heels to the
horse, pranced ahead, and pulled up alongside the
strange thing
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