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. and exploring
further and further as they hunted.
Stew, however, was in progress. Seeing that her
husband was becoming more and more testy, the Lady
Drule had rounded up a squadron of other ladies when the
first rats were brought in. Now they had a good fire going,
and a stew of gathered greens, wild onions, turnips and
fresh rat meat was beginning to bubble.
Gorge didn't wait for the rest to come to supper. He dug
into one of the clan packs, found a stew bowl that once had
been the codpiece on some Tall warrior's armor, and helped
himself.
He was only halfway through his second serving when
a group of gully dwarves came racing in from the shadows
at the rear of the cave and jostled to a stop before him.
"Highbulp come look!" one said, excitedly. "We find . .
. ah ..." He turned to another. "What we find?"
"Other cave," the second one reminded him.
"Right," the first continued. "Highbulp come see other
cave. Got good stuff."
"What kind good stuff?" Gorge demanded, stifling a
belch.
The first turned to the second. "What kind good stuff?"
"Cave stuff," the second reminded him. "Pretty stuff."
"Cave stuff, Highbulp," the first reported.
"Better be good," Gorge snapped. "Good 'nough for
inter . . . int . . . butt in when Highbulp tryin' to eat?"
"Good stuff," several of them assured him.
"What kind stuff? Gold? Clay? Bats? Pyr . . . pyr . . .
pretty rocks? What?" Another resounding belch caught him,
this one unstifled.
The first among them turned to the second
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