Earthman's Burden by Poul Anderson & Gordon R. Dickson

Author:Poul Anderson & Gordon R. Dickson [Anderson, Poul & Dickson, Gordon R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction
ISBN: 9780575082168
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2013-04-22T21:00:00+00:00

The village of St. Vitus-Where-He-Danced was a dozen thatch-roofed houses and shops, a church, a tavern, set down in the middle of rolling gray-green moors. Not far away, Alex could see a clump of trees which he was told surrounded Baskerville Hall. The inn had a big signboard announcing “The George and Dragon,” with a picture of a Hoka in armor spearing some obscure monster. Entering the low-ceilinged taproom, Alex’s party were met by an overawed landlord and shown to clean, quiet rooms whose only drawback was the fact that the beds were built for one-meter Hokas.

By then it was night. Holmes was outside somewhere, bustling around and talking to the villagers, and Lestrade went directly to bed; but Alex and Geoffrey came back downstairs to the taproom. It was full of a noisy crowd of Hoka farmers and tradesmen, some talking in their squeaky voices, some playing darts, some clustering around the two humans. A square, elderly native introduced as Farmer Toowey joined them at their table.

“Ah, lad,” he said, “it be turrible what yeou zee on the moor o’ nights.” And he buried his nose in the pint mug which should have held beer but, true to an older tradition, brimmed with the fiery liquor this high-capacity race had drunk from time immemorial. Alex, warned by past experience, sipped more cautiously at his pint; but Geoffrey was sitting with a half-empty mug and a somewhat wild look in his eyes.

“You mean the Hound?” asked Alex.

“I du,” said Farmer Toowey. “Black, ’tis, an’ bigger nor any bullock. And they girt teeth! One chomp and yeou’m gone.”

“Is that what happened to Sir Henry Baskerville?” queried Alex. “Nobody seems to know where he’s been for a long time.”

“Swall’d um whole,” said Toowey, darkly, finishing his pint and calling for another one. “Ah, poor Sir Henry! He was a good man, he was. When we were giving out new names, like the human book taught us, he screamed and fought, for he knew there was a curse on the Baskervilles, but—”

“The dialect’s slipping, Toowey,” said another Hoka.

“I be zorry,” said Toowey. “I be oold, and times I forget masel’.”

Privately, Alex wondered what the real Devonshire had been like. The Hokas must have made this one up out of whole cloth.

Sherlock Holmes entered in high spirits and sat down with them. His beady black eyes glittered. “The game is afoot, Watson!” he said. “The Hound has been doing business as usual. Strange forms seen on the moors of late— I daresay it’s our criminal, and we shall soon lay him by the heels.”

“Ridic’lous,” mumbled Geoffrey. “Ain’t—isn’t any Hound. We’re affer dope smuggler, not some son of—YOWP!” A badly thrown dart whizzed by his ear.

“Do you have to do that?” he quavered.

“Ah, they William,” chuckled Toowey. “Ee’s a fair killer, un is.”

Another dart zoomed over Geoffrey’s head and stuck in the wall. The IBI man choked and slid under the table—whether for refuge or sleep, Alex didn’t know.

“Tomorrow,” said Holmes, “I shall measure this tavern.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.