Mists of Dawn (19 page)

Mark
threw
a
small
switch
and
the
circular
portal 
hissed
back.
A
cold
gust
of
fresh
air
chilled
the 
machine.
Mark
shivered
and
looked
outside.

Instantly,
with
unexpected
suddenness,
something
roared
almost
in
his
face
and
Mark
lurched
back inside,
snatching
out
his
.45.
He
waited,
his
heart pounding
in
his
throat.
But
whatever
it
was
that
had challenged
him
was
evidently
just
as
surprised
to
see Mark
as
Mark
had
been
to
hear
the
sudden
roar.
Mark heard
the
thud
of
retreating
hoofs
and,
gun
in
hand, cautiously
advanced
again
and
looked
outside.
He caught
a
quick
glimpse
of
a
large,
woolly
animal
with a
horn
in
its
head,
just
as
it
disappeared
from
his
line of
vision.
Mark
relaxed
a
little
and
examined
the
landscape
before
him.

It
was
early
evening,
evidently,
and
a
blood-red
sun was
drifting
down
toward
the
snow-capped
mountains in
the
west.
Carefully,
Mark
stepped
out
of
the
space-time
machine
to
look
around,
the
.45
ready
in
his
hand. The
sphere
had
come
to
rest
in
a
great
treeless
plain, a
forest
of
damp
grass,
dotted
with
brilliant
flowers and
small
shrubs.
Mark
spotted
some
red
berries
on
a 
near-by
shrub,
but
did
not
recognize
them
and
could not
tell
whether
or
not
they
were
edible.

Far
to
the
north,
he
saw
a
glint
of
what
looked
like an
ice
sheet,
although
it
was
too
far
away
for
him
to
be certain.
It
might
have
been
some
sort
of
mica-like
mineral,
or
even
a
trick
of
the
light
from
the
setting
sun. To
the
east,
the
grassy
plains
extended
for
miles,
to
be broken
finally
by
a
low
range
of
snow-capped
mountains
some
twenty
or
thirty
miles
away.
The
mountain range
curved
around
toward
the
south,
becoming somewhat
higher,
and
Mark
could
see
what
appeared to
be
scrub
pine
trees
in
the
near
foothills
that
seemed to
be
no
more
than
five
or
ten
miles
away
from
him. A
low
mist,
clearly
a
product
of
the
approaching
coldness
of
the
night,
hugged
the
ground
in
tiny
whorls and
rivulets.

Mark
hesitated,
uncertain
of
what
course
to
follow. He
was
stunned
and
dizzy
from
the
shock
of
what
had happened,
and
he
was
ravenous.
He
squinted
at
the sun
and
judged
that
he
had
still
an
hour
or
two
of
daylight
left
to
him.
But
he
could
not
be
positive;
he
knew it
would
depend
on
precisely
where
he
was
and
what time
of
the
year
it
happened
to
be.
Night
could
descend with
fearful
speed
in
some
parts
of
the
world,
as
he had
seen
for
himself
many
times.

He
thought
it
over
carefully
and
then
threw
the switch
that
would
close
the
entry
port
into
the
space-time
machine.
The
circular
door
hissed
shut.
It wouldn’t
do,
obviously,
for
some
strange
creature
to wander
into
the
machine
while
he
was
gone.
Mark looked
around,
looking
for
he
knew
not
what.
Which way
to
go?

There
was
evidently
game
around
in
profusion,
although
he
didn’t
care
to
tackle
anything
as
big
as
the woolly
rhinoceros-like
animal
he
had
seen,
with
only
a pistol.
He
eyed
the
berries,
but
decided
against
them. It
wouldn’t
help
any
to
poison
himself,
and
as
a
rule of
thumb
he
knew
that
it
was
usually
wisest
not
to
eat anything
you
weren’t
familiar
with.
He
had
only
one testing
animal
available—himself.
And
if
the
test turned
out
for
the
worst,
he
wouldn’t
benefit
from
the knowledge.

Mark
decided
finally
to
move
due
east,
so
that
the sun’s
position
could
guide
him
back
to
the
space-time machine.
He
hefted
the
.45
thoughtfully.
It
was
heavy, but
having
it
in
his
hand
might
mean
the
difference
between
life
and
death.
He
smiled
and
patted
the
dull lead
of
the
space-time
machine.

“Take
care
of
yourself,”
he
breathed
fervently.
“If anything
happens
to
you,
my
name
is
mud.”

He
set
out
then,
resolutely.
The
evening
wind
was blowing
toward
him,
into
his
face,
which
was
good— the
animals
wouldn’t
get
wind
of
him
and
disappear. It
was
cold,
and
getting
colder,
but
it
was
not
unbearable
and
Mark’s
mind
was
on
other
things.
He
turned and
looked
back
at
the
machine
that
had
carried
him across
the
ages.
The
great
sphere
squatted
there
on the
plain,
a
stranger,
utterly
out
of
place
under
the deep
blue
sky
with
the
little
rivers
of
white
mist
beginning
to
curl
around
it
as
though
curious
about
the
odd thing
that
had
suddenly
appeared
out
of
nowhere.