Chap. 309 Whose Doggy is That?

Chap. 309 Whose Doggy is That?

“It’s obviously a herbivore,” K’ndar said. He was sketching the carcass.

“There’s no doubt in my mind the dogs killed it. Look at all the tracks!”

“Did our dragons scare the beasts back into the forest last night, or did they know the dogs were coming?” B’rost asked. He shoo’ed away a crawler that braved the cool morning to scavenge.

“Hard to say, B’rost. I’m guessing it was serendipitous. They saw our dragons and bolted, and we served as just enough of an interruption to the dogs to let them get away.”

“An interruption! I have never felt such anger in Rath. Whew, he was volcanic.”

“And he did a great job. Once we finish with this beast, I want to check out the dog’s head. And then, on to the cairn.”

“This thing’s big, K’ndar. Taller than a horse, I bet.”

He looked at it with a critical eye. “I think you’re right. I’m judging twenty hands? But it’s laying down, making it hard to measure, besides, I didn’t bring a measuring tape.”

“Okay, argot snob, what’s a hand? Like the ones on the end of my arms?”

K’ndar snickered. “Precisely. Or, rather, imprecisely. A hand is about ten centimeters. It’s a unit of measurement older than the metric system. Horsemen still use it to express the height of a horse at the withers.”

“Someone’s hand? That’s not even precise. Whose bright idea was that?”

“What, the hand, or the fact that thousands of years later, we’re still using the measurement?”

“Um, both.”

“I think the hand was originally some ancient Holder’s ego, using his own body to measure things. As for the second, well, you geologists were throwing terms around that baffled me. Horsemen’s argot is just getting even.”

“Geological terms aren’t ‘argot’. It’s science.”

“You’re right. But for most of human civilization on earth, and of course, right now on Pern, people depended on horses for transportation. They needed a common language, when it came to working with, or managing horses.”

“If you say so. What do you plan on doing with the skull?” B’rost said.

“I didn’t bring anything to transport it with, and I don’t relish the idea of loading it uncovered on Raventh. He’d probably revolt.”

“It’s revolting now. And only going to get worse when it warms up.”

“No doubt! Look at this, B’rost. Something I’ve never seen before. Look at these insects, down here? In fact, all over the bones. They’re boring into the bones. They’re eating the bones!”

“Is that unusual?”

“It is, to me. I’ve never heard of an insect consuming bone! Maybe there’s something in the database, but..okay. I guess what I’ll do is return to Landing, collect my gear and come back to recover it. I don’t want the skull eaten away before I get a chance to examine it. In the meantime, would you set your datalink to record?”

“One moment. All right, I’m ready to record, boss!”

“I’m not the boss. I’m going to dictate. Please, make sure the time and date as well as the coordinates input automatically. I want to get a basic description of this animal in the database. Later on I hope to collect the entire skeleton. Ready?”

“Way ahead of you, Not The Boss,” B’rost smirked.

“Humph.” He cleared his throat. “This is K’ndar, staff biologist of Landing, and member of the boundary survey. Last night we discovered a carcass of an animal unknown to us. It has been scavenged after the animal was killed, possibly by feral dogs that attacked us.”

“Possibly?”

“Ssh. It’s not proven yet,” he hissed at B’rost, “we aren’t absolutely positive, they may have just scavenged it.”

“Following is a brief description of the animal. Later, when I am better equipped, I’ll return to salvage as much of the skeleton as I can.”

“This beast was found in a heavily scavenged state. It has six limbs. One of the forelimbs is missing, possibly carried off by a predator. The remaining forelimb is underneath the fenestrated rib cage and from what I can see, ends in stout, but quite long, toes, almost finger like. Two of the, um, six? phalanges appear to be quite robust and shorter than the rest. I’m wondering if they may act as thumbs.

The forelimb is much shorter than the middle and rear limbs but the bones are twice the thickness as the locomotive legs, with ample room for muscle attachment. It does not appear as if the forelimbs are used for locomotion. The middle and hind legs are definitely cursorial, ending in feet, a pair of soft, hide covered toes. Short, blunt claws protrude from the middle and rear feet. The anal region, um, if it had a tail, it’s missing now, so I cannot say if it had one or not. The entire back end has been eaten, save for the skeleton. The pelvis is robust, so much so I wonder if this beast doesn’t sit up on it. In addition, the spine, from what I can see, is also very robust.

Moving towards the head, the torso has the typical fenestrated rib cage. Dried hide covers most of it. Looking inside, phew, I can see the remaining scapular, that of the left foreleg, is of large dimensions, with a relatively large area for muscle attachment. The neck is long and slim. There are spines all along the dorsal crest of the neck. They are not ridges, like those atop a dragon, although this beast is definitely saurian. They are spikes, rigid, narrow and sharp. Two are broken, I count one, two, uh, fifteen in all. No, sixteen. They appear to serve as protection for the neck. Atop the neck is a long narrow head. The head has three horns, two vertical ones of about half a meter in length on on either side of a sagittal crest, and just above the eye sockets, which are one to a side. The sagittal crest continues on to a spot between the eyes and ends in a sharp bony spike, NOT a horn. The horns show concentric ridges, I posit that each ridge is added at a certain time in the animals’ life. The skull still has all its skin, but insects are eating it as I speak. The muzzle appears to be slightly pointed,with nostrils on either side. I cannot check the dentition at this time.

There isn’t much left in the way of internal organs, although I see the remnants of the stomach. It has been torn open and appears to be filled with, um, I think they’re nuts! Yes, nuts, most of them chewed but there are some that are still whole. There are also well masticated tree leaves. The nuts and leaves may be from a local tree species, identified by B’rost, surveyor and geologist, as a chezznut. The intestines are, well, what’s left of them, are very long, to me the length, in addition to the stomach contents, indicate this animal is a herbivore.

Other items: from what remains of the hide, this was a lovely beast. It’s base body color appears to be a dark red, with the belly, um, I can’t say, but it may be counter shaded, with a lighter, almost yellow dun color. All along the sides of the body, and I repeat, there is very little hide left, are vertical stripes, beginning at the spine and narrowing as they meet at the belly. The stripes are yellow dun. The legs are still covered with hide. The legs are black or a very dark red, with horizontal dun stripes.

At this time, and I’m only hazarding a guess, I’m thinking this animal is riparian, it may feed by resting on it’s hindquarters, and possibly either stripping leaves and nuts from the trees, or, if the scapular is any indication, possibly pulling tree limbss down to mouth level.

Last night when it was much too dark to see, we did see a herd of beasts that probably are the same as this carcass. If so, the beasts live in herds and may be crepuscular. This ends this brief report.”

“Brief? B’rost said as he shut off the datalink.

“You have no idea. Some descriptions will go on for days. In those cases, it really isn’t a description as much as an arm waving argument.”

Motanith is coming Raven said.

K’ndar looked up in time to see Francie’s green dragon blink into view.

Rath and Raventh both called a welcome.

Francie’s three fire lizards swooped down to greet Siskin. For several moments, they formed a chittering circus in the sky.

“Siskin, don’t you dare take off,” K’ndar warned.

He probably won’t. He won’t have to eat for days Raventh said

Motanith backwinged and plunked to the ground.

“K’ndar! Good morning!” Francie called.

“This is a surprise! Good morning! And oh, THANK YOU very much for dinner, it filled me up when I thought I wasn’t going to make it through the night.”

Francie dismounted. She turned and unbuckled her passenger. The man gingerly stepped onto Motanith’s offered leg and stood for a moment, apparently disoriented by between.

“My boot, but that’s an amazing experience,” he said.

K’ndar noted that he was elderly.

“Good morning, sir. I’m K’ndar, rider of brown Raventh and staff biologist of Landing.”

B’rost chipped in, “I’m B’rost, rider of blue Raventh, Healer, geologist, and self designated pain in the arse of the boundary survey.”

K’ndar and Francie both laughed.

“Pain in the arse?” the man said. K’ndar noted a merry glint in the man’s eye. “There’s a position for that at Landing? Sign me on, I’ve perfected the art of arse paining.”

Francie giggled as she unbuckled a large canvas bundle from Motanith. The elderly man eased it down onto the ground. It clanked.

“You’re welcome for the dinner, K’ndar. When Raylan told me you were ‘stuck’ out here for the night, and then Risal filled me in, I couldn’t let you go hungry! Oh, and this gentleman is,” she turned to her passenger.

The old man took the cue. “I’m Robson, most recently of Bitra Hold, banished due to the fact that I called out a bunch of shysters cheating at cards. I should of known better than to play with Bitrans. Everyone at Bitra cheats at cards.”

“Um…banished?”

“Nonsense,” Francie said, “He’s not banished! Robson, you goof, you’re at Landing because you’re a topnotch anatomist. And a long time friend of Raylan. And me.”

“Thank you, lassie, but I’m still no longer welcome at Bitra. Small loss, that! But see here, K’ndar, is it? I’m told you have a strange beast that needs examination?”

“Um, uh, yes sir. It’s downwind of us. You’re going to describe it?”

“Aye, lad, and hopefully collect as much as what’s left. Francie said that Risal? mentioned it had been heavily scavenged.”

“Yes, sir. Come and look.”

“Would you be so kind as to help me with my tools?”

K’ndar and B’rost both ran to lift the bundle.

“Thank you lads, if you’d show me where my work is?” Robson said.

B’rost, walking backward on one end, led the way to the carcass. They grouped around it, upwind.

“It’s pretty rank, sir,” B’rost said, as he and K’ndar let the bundle down..

“No matter, lad. I hardly have a sense of smell left. Trust me, I’ve smelled worse. Try recovering a pig that drowned after foolishly jumping into a latrine and then decomposing in equatorial heat.”

“Woof. No thank you.”

Robson gauged the carcass with a critical eye. “Delightful! Yes, it’s a new one to me! Right, then, I’ll get to work. If you don’t mind, Francie, my dear, Raylan meant well by showing me how to use the datalink. But I’m too old to learn new tricks. Even this paper notebook is at the very limit of my ability to use such advanced technology. Although I must say it’s a vast improvement over recording on hides! Sometimes the insects would eat up the hide faster than I could write on it. No one is even tanning hide for records anymore. Paper! Amazing!”

K’ndar began to like Robson.

The man bent over the bundle and opened it. Inside were several saws, sharp knives, even a block and tackle. “Now then. This shouldn’t take long, seeing that most of the structure is already exposed.”

“K’ndar dictated an initial report, sir,” B’rost added, in a defensive tone.

“Ah. Good. That gives K’ndar naming rights, then?”

“Um..”

“I think, sir, that the staff at Landing will determine that,” Francie said. She winked at K’ndar.

“Aye, I understand. Well, then, let me get to work. If you dragonriders will excuse me? The sooner I get this beast disassembled, the sooner we can pack it up and ship it to Landing.” He fished a pair of gloves from the tool bundle.

Despite his better judgment, K’ndar had to offer to help. “Do you need help?”

“Nay laddie. I work best alone. I had a woman, once, who left me because my whistling drove her mad. I don’t remember whistling, but many others have said I do, so, off with you to do whatever dragonriders do, and I’ll be done here when I’m done.”

Grateful, K’ndar backed off. Francie collected him and B’rost with a nod of her head. Their three dragons had grouped upwind of the carcass.

“You’re, um, going to take the beast to Landing? AND carry Robson and his tools?”

Francie nodded. “Is there a problem?”

“Well, no, but those bones are heavy. Can Motanith handle all that?

“Sssh, if she hears you say that, she’ll be insulted. You know how greens are.”

“I kind of do,” K’ndar said. “I just feel sort of, well, guilty, leaving an elderly man do a lot of hard work.”

“He’s prepared. Trust me, K’ndar, he knows what he’s doing. We’ve known him for years. It took Raylan almost a year to convince him to come work for Landing. He’s a Wanderer, K’ndar, and has done just that for a lifetime. He is a butcher by trade but he’s also cut up virtually every beast on Pern, out of scientific interest. He’s kept records, too, of every beast he’s dissected. On hides. Hides! Still using hides! He’s an odd one, but he’s a good man and knows his ways around bones. D’mitran mentioned a cairn. Let’s go see it.”

——————————————————————————————————-

“Wow,” K’ndar said, “What a view.”

“Isn’t it! As clear as the air is, I feel I can reach out and touch the mountains, even though they’re a hundred kilometers out,” B’rost said.

They were atop a ridge overlooking the basin between two mountain ranges. K’ndar could see, now, that the Eastern ridge was the more northern one, and ended within view. The Southern Range, whose foothills he’d lived in as a child, extended clear to the eastern horizon.

“B’rost, where is this cairn?”

“Oh, over here, I think. Hmm. No, that’s not it. It’s covered with lichen, it’s almost invisible.”

“You memorized it, right?”

“I did, but I’m not seeing it now. The light is different, we saw it late in the afternoon.”

“Send an image to Rath. Tell Rath to send it to Motanith and she’ll send it to my fire lizards.”

B’rost nodded.

Siskin and Francie’s fire lizards seemed to freeze in mid air, then scattered, each to a cardinal point.

Within seconds, Sisi, one of the greens, whickered in success.

They trooped over to where the green was perched atop the cairn. “Well DONE, girl! You’re wonderful!” Francie said. Sisi preened in victory.

I have GOT to get a fire lizard, B’rost thought.

K’ndar began to sketch it. It was heavily overgrown with lichen and moss.

“These rocks are all of an age,”B’rost said, “And I can tell, even with the lichen on it, that they’ve seen a lot of weathering.”

“Lichens take a very long time to cover rocks,” K’ndar said, “They live forever, too.”

“Jansen scanned in Risal’s pictures late last night. She said it might take a while for the database to find it, IF it’s in the database. And it should be, even were it on hides. Any dragonrider that came this far would probably have insisted on recording it, if for no other reason than bragging rights.”

She thumbed her datalink and called Jansen.

“Good morning, Jansen! Francie here, I’m at the site near the Eastern Range, where the cairn the team discovered is. Has the database found it?”

“Hi, Francie! And B’rost and K’ndar! It took a while for the database, in fact, it just found the cairn in it’s brain an hour ago. It was scanned from a hide turned in when Aivas was collecting them.” K’ndar could hear the bubbling excitement just under her normally calm speech.

“Well? I’m on pins and needles!”

“The hide it was recorded on was in bad shape, even with Aivas’s resolution. But it appears as if the cairn was erected in 2000, almost the end of the seventh interval. It’s well over five hundred seventy years old!”

______________________________________________________________

They were back at the carcass, and as promised, Robson had the skeleton disarticulated. He’d laid the bones out on a large square of canvas. Standing upwind, they helped him bundle them up. Once the canvas was wrapped around the bones and skull, the smell wasn’t so bad.

“Are you sure about Motanith taking it?”

“I am, but K’ndar, would you take Robson aboard Raventh? Or the bundle, I don’t care.”

I do, Motanith said, I can do anything any brown can do.

I know you can. Let Raventh help. Males like to help females.

“Let the brown carry the bundle, Francie. It IS heavy.”

“Fine, but she’ll be disappointed.”

“Before we go? I want to check out the dog’s skull,” K’ndar said.

“What dog skull?”

“We fought a pack of feral dogs off last night. I think they were intending on hunting the herd of these beasts. Rath killed one of them and ate it. B’rost asked him to leave the head.”

“Feral dogs?”

“Yes. Big ones.”

“I’ve heard stories of packs of dogs, but never really believed them,” Francie said.

“Believe them,” Robson said, removing his glove. “Ask anyone who runs cattle or horses on range, especially on Northern! Feral dogs have a well earned reputation for rapacity and ferocity. Look at the dog tracks,here, they killed this beast, despite it being twice a dog’s size.”

“Let’s collect the dog skull, too,” B’rost said.

“Yes. We’ll toss it in with the beast’s bones,” Robson said. He bent over to unbuckle the bundle and lifted a flap of canvas. A wave of putrefaction hit them. Every one gulped, except Robson.

“Let’s see whose fire lizard finds it!” K’ndar said, hoping it would be Siskin.

It was Coora, Francie’s bronze, who called first.

“Good night, look at it. It’s enormous,” Francie said, picking the head up. She turned it in the sun. “This dog was purposefully bred, and not for turning a spit! Look at those fangs!”

“And I…I forgot I had it! I cut off the collar before Rath ate the body,” B’rost said.

He pulled the collar out of pocket. It was still buckled in the middle.

“That’s a nice collar,” K’ndar said. “It’s dry rotted but it was made using top grade leather. A rolled leather collar takes more time to make than a flat one. Even the buckle is first rate. We might be able to find out who cast it.”

B’rost turned it over in his hand, and felt a difference in the texture.

“It has a brass plate on it, see? It’s so tarnished you can hardly see it.”

“A brass plate means a human owned it, B’rost,” Robson said. He took the collar and rubbed the plate.

“Hmm. The letters are worn but I can read “Lo d T ic 4.”

“Toric. Lord Toric’s dog. On Lord Dorn’s cothold.”

“Maybe all of them were Lord Toric’s?”

“We didn’t get a good view of them, Francie. But they were all big.”

“Turn that in to Raylan, B’rost. It’s damning evidence, in my opinion,” Robson said.