Challenge of the clans by Kenneth C Flint

two men from the water. It was flat and broad, rather doghke in appearance, with small, upright ears, dark eyes surrounded by patches of lighter coloring, and a short muzzle with bristhng whiskers. The mouth was open in a sort of malevolent grin, revealing teeth that were doglike as well, quite adequate for tearing him apart.

    He had only an instant to make this assessment, for, upon seeing him, the head darted down toward him on its flexible neck, the mouth opening wider to bite. He dove away and the head struck harmlessly against the water, but it lifted away instantly, water dripping from the jaws, and swept around to strike again.
    Once more he dodged away, dismayed by the agility of a thing so large. The neck was like a serpent, powerful muscles rolling beneath the shiny, dark hide as it moved. It lifted, and the Dovarchu voiced an angry sound—part cow bellow, part deep bark—as if impatient with this prey who would not stay still and be eaten.
    Finn used the brief respite to look around. He was weaponless, defenseless, and alone. He might be able to escape with his own swimming and diving skills, but he would not try. He had made a bond to fight the thing, and that he had to do. But how?
    Behind the smooth mound of the creature's back he glimpsed the curragh, overturned and bobbing on the waves. If he could reach it, he would have some protection, and perhaps a way to strike back. He took a deep breath, slipped beneath the waves, and swam down, using all his power to dive right beneath the Master-Otter. If it could use that trick, why, so could he!
    He glanced up at it as he passed under. It was like the rounded hull of a ship lying on the surface. At its fi*ont, short, broad flippers thrust out. At its back was a wide-bladed tail, notched like that of a fish. All were now beating the water as the creature, realizing he was gone, paddled its body in a circle. Their action made the water seem to boil.
    Then he was past it, slanting upward to the surface and the curragh. He broke th^ waves beyond it and peered out past it cautiously. The creature was still looking the other way, the head swinging slowly back and forth as it scanned the lake for him. For the moment he was safe, but the Dovarchu would soon turn.

    He needed some means to fight back, and the curragh oflfered none.
    Then he noticed something bobbing on the surface not far away. Just a recurrent flash of something showing at the top of each passing swell. A stick? He looked more closely. No! The end of a spear pole! One of the thick wooden hafts had been buoyant enough to keep the weapon afloat, its point and forward three-quarters submerged.
    He moved out fi-om the shelter of the curragh, reaching for it. But his move attracted the attention of the beast. Its head swung around and struck down at him in a single, graceful move.
    He ducked back. The head splashed harmlessly down upon the water again, the jaws grazing the side of the boat as he moved into its protection. The curving neck lifted and the head arched high above as the Dovarchu vented another and much angrier roar.
    Finn started for the spear again. This time he stroked with one hand and pulled the curragh along with the other, keeping his body beneath it, making a great turtle of himself. This did not deter the beast. The head swooped down, jaws wide. They slammed upon it, the force of the blow driving curragh and warrior down. Then the jaws tightened, the sharp fangs puncturing the thick leather hide of the boat. The Dovarchu pulled its head up, easily lifting the fi*ail craft fi-om the water, pulling it from Finn.
    The creature rose up to the ftill height of its neck, the curragh clamped firmly in its jaws. It shook the boat savagely, like a dog shaking a rodent, then let go, casting the smashed curragh far across the lake.
    But while the beast vented its anger on the boat, Finn had a chance to act. He swam with all his speed for the floating spear.
    He was nearly to it when the head descended