David Eddings
High Hunt
Dedication
For JUFELEE
The more things change
The more they remain the same.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
The Gathering
1
I guess that if it hadnt been for that poker
2
THEY werent ready to start processing us yet, so they
3
A car pulled up outside, and Jack turned his head
4
THE following Saturday I got out of the Army. Naturally,
5
MIKE Carter and Betty, his wife, lived in a development
6
IT wasnt until Thursday that we finished up the deal
7
ON Friday morning I went up to Seattle and picked
8
WHATS this doing here? Clydine was standing over me the
9
I workedoff and onat the gun all the next week,
10
I picked up Clydine about three thirty the next afternoon,
11
THE following Wednesday, the first of September, we were all
12
BY the next Saturday we were all getting things pretty
13
ON Tuesday night we gathered at Sloanes with all our
14
IT rained all the next day. The sky sagged and
The High Hunt
15
SLOANES Cadillac was still leading, and at the summit he
16
IT took us the better part of an hour to
17
ABOUT three thirty that afternoon we crossed the second ridge
18
WHEN the gun went off I think we all came
19
MILLER split us up then and sent us on back
20
TIME to roll out. Clints head blotted out the looming
21
YOU see any with any size? Miller asked when he
22
I woke up the next morning before Clint came around
23
MAN! Jack said when I got back down to camp,
24
SLOANE was much worse the next morning. Much as he
25
I got up at the usual time the next morning
26
DAN, Sloan gasped when I got up to him, Im
27
IT drizzled rain all the next day. Miller had told
28
AFTER he got back from taking Jack and Lou up
29
AT lunchtime I rode up the ridge to pick up
30
CLINT woke me the next morning, and I rolled out
31
I went straight on down into the ravine, leaving Jack
32
I dont think either Jack or Lou said more than
33
I dont know how the hell were gonna get all
The Parting
34
AFTER she left for class the next morning I called
35
I didnt see Stan until the next weekend. Im not
36
ON the first of October I moved to Seattle and
37
I write a lousy letter. I always have. I knew
38
AND so, after the holidays, Clydine Stewart, the terror of
39
IT was a Thursday morning several weeks after Mothers visit
Epilogue
About the Author
Praise
Other Books by David Eddings
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
WHEN we were boys, before we lost him and before my brother and I turned away from each other, my father once told us a story about our grandfather and a dog. We were living in Tacoma then, in one of the battered, sagging, rented houses that stretch back in my memory and mark the outlines of a childhood spent unknowingly on the bare upper edge of poverty. Jack and I knew that we werent rich, but it didnt really bother us all that much. Dad worked in a lumber mill and just couldnt seem to get ahead of the bills. And, of course, Mom being the way she was didnt help much either.
It had been a raw, blustery Saturday, and Jack and I had spent the day outside. Mom was off someplace as usual, and Dad was supposed to be watching us. About all hed done had been to feed us and tell us to stay the hell out of trouble or hed bite off our ears. He always said stuff like that, but we were pretty sure he didnt really mean it.
The yard around our house was cluttered with a lot of old junk abandoned by previous tenantsrusty car bodies and discarded appliances and the likebut it was a good place to play. Jack and I were involved in one of the unending, structureless games of his invention that filled the days of our boyhood. My brothereven then thin, dark, quick, and nervouswas a natural ringleader who settled for directing my activities when he couldnt round up a gang of neighborhood kids. I went along with him most of the timeto some extent because he was older, but even more, I suppose, because even then I really didnt much give a damn, and I knew that he did.
After supper it was too dark to go back outside, and the radio was on the blink, so we started tearing around the house. We got to playing tag in the living room, ducking back and forth around the big old wood-burning heating stove, giggling and yelling, our feet clattering on the worn linoleum. The Old Man was trying to read the paper, squinting through the dime-store glasses that didnt seem to help much and made him look like a total strangerto me at least.
Hed glance up at us from time to time, scowling in irritation. Keep it down, you two, he finally said. We looked quickly at him to see if he really meant it. Then we went on back out to the kitchen.
Hey, Dan, I betcha I can hold my breath longern you can, Jack challenged me. So we tried that a while, but we both got dizzy, and pretty soon we were running and yelling again. The Old Man hollered at us a couple times and finally came out to the kitchen and gave us both a few whacks on the fanny to show us that he meant business. Jack wouldnt cryhe was ten. I was only eight, so I did. Then the Old Man made us go into the living room and sit on the couch. I kept sniffling loudly to make him feel sorry for me, but it didnt work.
Use your handkerchief was all he said.
I sat and counted the flowers on the stained wallpaper. There were twelve rows on the left side of the brown water-splotch that dribbled down the wall and seventeen on the right side.
Then I decided to try another tactic on the Old Man. Dad, I have to go.
You know where it is.
When I came back, I went over and leaned my head against his shoulder and looked at the newspaper with him to let him know I didnt hold any grudges. Jack fidgeted on the couch. Any kind of enforced nonactivity was sheer torture to Jack. Hed take ten spankings in preference to fifteen minutes of sitting in a corner. School was hell for Jack. The hours of sitting still were almost more than he could stand.
Finally, he couldnt take anymore. Tell us a story, Dad.
The Old Man looked at him for a moment over the top of his newspaper. I dont think the Old Man really understood my brother and his desperate need for diversion. Jack lived with his veins, like Mom did. Dad just kind of did what he had to and let it go at that. He was pretty easygoingI guess he had to be, married to Mom and all like he was. I never really figured out where I fit in. Maybe I didnt, even then.