THE HUNTERS IN Yotun were more proactive in their pursuit of falling rocks. This was attributable to the fact their lives might actually depend upon it.
Taking advantage of the shockwave of terror that had scattered the fanged and clawed denizens of the rich jungle forests in their vicinity, the two men tumbled down off the edge of the Lost Plateau, now illuminated by the eerie glow of residual fires, and descended into the swampy valley where the meteorite had landed.
'Them trees have been splintered to matchwood,' Keepert observed as they approached the impact site while thunder still rolled among the hills and the beasts that survived the explosion continued to flee in every direction, even ignoring the crazy two-legged things going towards the nightmare inferno.
Matchbie followed a bear and its cubs with his rifle sights as they scampered across the valley floor, splashing through a river swollen with debris, and away up the other side without so much as a glance at the hunters.
'Don't waste your ammunition,' Keepert said. 'Got other matters to attend to.'
A leopard leapt out of tangled, fallen trees, jumping right over the old hunter, who ducked but did not raise his own weapon as the creature growled and ran down the valley in search of a quieter neighbourhood.
'See? Them beasts got other things on their minds too.'
'What's that sound?' Matchbie said as they approached an embankment of rubble that marked the boundary of the impact crater. Smoke made them cough and an acrid smell floated around where they stood, listening.
Pings and popping noises, the crackling of burning wood and the rumble of falling rocks filled the air, but mingling with all these sounds of disaster was a melodious tune.
'Sounds like someone singing,' Keepert said with a frown. He checked his rifle was loaded as if the thought of a singer in the midst of such devastation was a threat and then began ascending the rocky slope.
Matchbie reached the top just after the veteran hunter and gazed across a most unworldly landscape into a pit where once jungle had grown and a stream flowed. Nothing but steam now, blackened splinters and something dark sat in the middle of it all, humming a tuneful refrain in short bursts that suggested it sought attention.
'Shall I shoot it?' Matchbie said, raising his rifle. 'You know, just to shut it up.'
'Can you make out what it's saying?'
They both strained their ears to listen but the words, if words they were, seemed just beyond comprehension. Almost. Then it stopped.
'I got the impression it was trying to tell us something,' Keepert eventually said, testing his understanding with this suggestion.
'Me too, but what?'
'I dunno. That'll teach you to howl at the moon you furry bastards.'
The old hunter laughed at his own joke.
'Anyway,' he added, 'it ain't saying anything else so that means its ours.' He made to scramble over the lip of the crater and down into the glassy basin of fused rock and vapour.
'Wait,' Matchbie cautioned. 'Might be dangerous.'
'I've been confronting danger man and boy since before you were born my lad,' Keepert said, shrugging off the restraining hand of his companion. He scrambled down into the pit and approached the thing sat at its centre. It looked huge from the crater lip but the weirdness of the landscape confused the eye so that when he reached where the dark mass lay it appeared no larger than a Killer Eagle's second generation egg. Just the size to grip in one gloved hand.
'It's hot,' Keepert shouted back at his watching companion. With that he shouldered his rifle, took off his squirrel-skin jacket and bundled the thing up in it. As he approached Matchbie the latter backed away.
'What's the matter with you?' Keepert scoffed. 'Afraid it will bite? Thing's darn heavy for its size.'
'I can see,' Matchbie said as he continued to keep his distance, 'I can see your bones.'
Before the veteran hunter could frame a response to this odd observation the sound of a flitter overhead made both men look up.
'Bloody government regulators,' Keepert gasped. 'Trying to horn in on our find.'