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." He
hoisted pack, sword, and hammer. "Are you ready?"
"Look at that!" The kender pointed upward. Over-
head, great flocks of birds flew, coming from the high
peaks, winging toward the valley. Birds of all sorts, a mi-
gration of panic.
Chane watched them, wave after wave coming past.
"What do you suppose caused that?" he wondered
aloud.
"Whatever it was, the birds are in a hurry," the kender
said. "See those out ahead? Those are pigeons. And
mountain kites, and jays, and ducks, and... stand
back!" Chess swiftly pulled a pebble from his pouch, fit-
ted the sling to his staff, placed the pebble, aimed, and let
go. The pebble streaked skyward, and an instant later a
large bird crumpled in flight and fell, thudding to the
shelf almost at Chane's feet.
"Goose," the kender explained. "I'm getting tired of
dried cat. We'll have this for supper."
Chane gaped at him. "How did you do that?"
"With a pebble. I thought you saw." He picked up the
goose and slung it over his shoulder. "See if you can find
some berries along the way. Snowberries will do.
They're the yellow ones on the thorny vines. Snowber-
ries go good with goose." Chess started up the path, and
the dwarf followed, still glancing in awe at the smaller
creature's forked hoopak.
Overhead, the waves of fleeing birds continued to
pass
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