SO UNLIKE HIS PEOPLE, he thought. AND THE GIRL.
What could it mean? His thoughts were broken off as Kalus answered.
'The sound is made by stretching a skin between two trees, then
soaking it with water and leaving it to dry in the sun. When it has
tightened between them it is beaten rapidly with club-ended sticks,
making a sound like the rhythm of your mighty wings.'
'But how will you use it here, where there are no trees? And why do
you think that my enemies will believe it, when the sound comes from
only one place?'
'It can be built on a frame,' he answered. 'And moved to
different places along the ridge. That way the sound can be sent
echoing down the canyon, and seem to come from many places at once.'
Skither looked down at him thoughtfully. His first instincts told him
never to trust a man-beast. But these were difficult times. Yielding
to the unspoken Tao he consulted the wind, to see what hidden message it
might carry.
A cool breeze swirled about him; the valley grasses swayed with a
golden, browning color on the plains below. He felt the seasons
changing. But more than that he felt his world changing, yielding
slowly to some new order in which he was to play no part. It was not the
first time. The feeling had often puzzled (and frightened) him.
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