Mark had no time to think, but his mind registered every tiny detail as the monster came toward him. lie saw the place where one of the mammoth’s curving tusks was chipped slightly on the tip, he saw the red tongue exposed when the trunk snaked upward in the air, he saw distinctly the four large toes on the mammoth’s raised foot. He heard the harsh, whistling breathing of the beast. He smelled its rank animal smell. He felt the earth shake under its charging tread. Nranquar desperately backed away, but he could not possibly move fast enough to get out of the mammoth’s path. He hurled his torch and the monster brushed it aside with his trunk. Nranquar stopped dead for a long instant, poised himself, and threw his spear with all his might. The shaft lanced through the air and imbedded itself in the mammoth’s left shoulder. It was a good throw, and it hurt the beast, as was evidenced by a snort of rage and pain. But it did not stop him; on the contrary, it speeded him up.
