Hunt the Hunter — Edition Insights

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In Category - Machines Invention
Neville, Kris, 1925-1980, MacIntyre, Elizabeth [Illustrator] Project Gutenberg 2016 Not confirmed
Science fiction; Short stories; Hunting stories Readers of public-domain and historical texts
Project Gutenberg digital edition en

Edition facts

Words 8,624
Reading time 38 min
Text sections 1

For Hunt the Hunter — Edition Insights, the stored edition analysis reports 8,624 words, 38 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.

The text analysis averages about 10.8 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Science fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

In Kris Neville's 1951 science fiction short story, a wealthy hunter uses live bait to lure dangerous alien farn beasts, but the power dynamics shift when the hired guides become the hunted. The narrative tightens through tense dialogue and a chilling reversal.
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Editorial Edition Score 4.4/5

Calculated from edition completeness, EPUB availability, text structure and catalogue metadata. Not a user rating.

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  • Description quality20 pts
  • Title & short description10 pts
  • Source metadata20 pts
  • Text length15 pts
  • Chapters / structure15 pts
  • EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

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Mia looked at his companion. He spat. "What hurts most, he pays us for it. I could buy half this planet, and he makes me his guide--at less than I pay my secretary."

"Well, anyway, we won't have to cross that ridge."

"Hey, you!" Extrone called.

The two of them turned immediately.

"You two scout ahead," Extrone said. "See if you can pick up some tracks."

"Yes, sir," Ri said, and instantly the two of them readjusted their shoulder straps and started off.

Shortly they were inside of the scrub forest, safe from sight. "Let's wait here," Mia said.

"No, we better go on. He may have sent a spy in."

They pushed on, being careful to blaze the trees, because they were not professional guides.

"We don't want to get too near," Ri said after toiling through the forest for many minutes. "Without guns, we don't want to get near enough for the farn beast to charge us."

They stopped. The forest was dense, the vines clinging.

"He'll want the bearers to hack a path for him," Mia said. "But we go it alone. Damn him."

Ri twisted his mouth into a sour frown. He wiped at his forehead. "Hot. By God, it's hot. I didn't think it was this hot, the first time we were here."

Mia said, "The first time, _we_ weren't guides. We didn't notice it so much then."

They fought a few yards more into the forest.

Then it ended. Or, rather, there was a wide gap. Before them lay a blast area, unmistakable. The grass was beginning to grow again, but the tree stumps were roasted from the rocket breath.

"This isn't ours!" Ri said. "This looks like it was made nearly a year ago!"

Mia's eyes narrowed. "The military from Xnile?"

"No," Ri said. "They don't have any rockets this small. And I don't think there's another cargo rocket on this planet outside of the one we leased from the Club. Except the one _he_ brought."

"The ones who discovered the farn beasts in the first place?" Mia asked. "You think it's their blast?"

"So?" Ri said. "But who are they?"

It was Mia's turn to shrug. "Whoever they were, they couldn't have been hunters. They'd have kept the secret better."

"We didn't do so damned well."

"We didn't have a chance," Mia objected. "Everybody and his brother had heard the rumor that farn beasts were somewhere around here. It wasn't our fault Extrone found out."

"I wish we hadn't shot our guide, then. I wish he was here instead of us."

Mia shook perspiration out of his eyes. "We should have shot our pilot, too. That was our mistake. The pilot must have been the one who told Extrone we'd hunted this area."

"I didn't think a Club pilot would do that."

"After Extrone said he'd hunt farn beasts, even if it meant going to the alien system? Listen, you don't know.... Wait a minute."

There was perspiration on Ri's upper lip.

"_I_ didn't tell Extrone, if that's what you're thinking," Mia said.

Ri's mouth twisted. "I didn't say you did."

"Listen," Mia said in a hoarse whisper. "I just thought. Listen. To hell with how he found out. Here's the point. Maybe he'll shoot us, too, when the hunt's over."

Ri licked his lips. "No. He wouldn't do that. We're not--not just anybody. He couldn't kill us like that. Not even _him_. And besides, why would he want to do that? It wouldn't do any good to shoot us. Too many people already know about the farn beasts. You said that yourself."

Mia said, "I hope you're right." They stood side by side, studying the blast area in silence. Finally, Mia said, "We better be getting back."

"What'll we tell him?"

"That we saw tracks. What else can we tell him?"

They turned back along their trail, stumbling over vines.

"It gets hotter at sunset," Ri said nervously.

"The breeze dies down."

"It's screwy. I didn't think farn beasts had this wide a range. There must be a lot of them, to be on both sides of the ridge like this."

"There may be a pass," Mia said, pushing a vine away.

Ri wrinkled his brow, panting. "I guess that's it. If there were a lot of them, we'd have heard something before we did. But even so, it's damned funny, when you think about it."

Mia looked up at the darkening sky. "We better hurry," he said.

Kris Neville's "Hunt the Hunter" opens with a party of hunters and guides tracking farn beasts on an alien planet. The story's language is lean and functional, dominated by clipped dialogue that reveals character through what is said—and left unsaid. Ri, a guide pressed into service, speaks in nervous fragments, while Extrone, the wealthy hunter, uses calm, deliberate commands that mask a predatory patience. The early exchange about crossing a ridge establishes a pattern of misdirection: the real danger is not the alien wildlife but the human hierarchy. Neville builds tension through small physical details—a hand raised to a beard, a forehead wiped on a sleeve—that ground the science fiction setting in recognizable anxiety.

Voice and Unequal Power

The story's dialogue is its primary engine, and Neville differentiates speakers through rhythm and word choice. Extrone speaks in short, declarative sentences: "We'll pitch camp right here, then." His questions are commands disguised as curiosity: "Tell me what they look like." Ri, by contrast, stammers and repeats: "I ... I...." His speech is peppered with nervous qualifiers like "maybe" and "I think." The imbalance is underscored by the guides' private complaints—Ri wishing he'd never heard of farn beasts, Mia blaming the pilot—which are never voiced aloud to Extrone. This gap between internal resentment and external deference creates a simmering tension that the story exploits.

Pace and the Threat of Violence

Neville controls pace through alternating stretches of static planning and sudden action. The opening ridge discussion is slow, filled with map-reading and hesitation. Then a farn beast coughs offstage, and the pace quickens: camp is pitched, scouts are sent. The middle section accelerates further as Extrone reveals his plan to use Ri as bait. The dialogue becomes rapid and overlapping, with Ri's pleas and Extrone's calm replies creating a rhythm of mounting dread. The actual shooting of Mia is abrupt, almost offhand—"Extrone aimed carefully and fired, full charge"—and the narrative moves on without pause. This compression of violence into a single sentence mirrors the story's theme: human life is expendable in the hunt.

Recurring Details and the Unreliable Landscape

Several details recur to reinforce the story's atmosphere. The farn beast's cough is described three times, each instance altering the characters' actions: first it saves Ri from a ridge crossing, then it signals the beasts' movement, finally it becomes the trigger for Extrone's scheme. The blast rifle is repeatedly mentioned as an object of desire—Extrone "petting his rifle"—and its use is the story's climax. The rope, introduced casually, becomes a symbol of coercion. The setting itself is unreliable: the pilot lands on the wrong side of the ridge, the blast area may or may not exist, and the watering hole is drying up. This environmental uncertainty mirrors the social instability among the hunting party.

Shifts in Narrative Focus

Neville shifts point-of-view subtly between characters, though the story largely follows Ri's perspective. Early passages are filtered through Ri's anxiety—"his pulse gradually slowing"—but later the narrative pulls back to observe Extrone's amusement and Lin's impassivity. This technique allows the reader to see Ri's desperation while also recognizing that Extrone is in control. The final section, from the watering hole, is told in a more detached tone, as if the narrator has stepped back from Ri's terror. The result is a story that feels both intimate and cold, aligning the reader with the victim while denying the comfort of a sympathetic narrator.

Readers should attend to the story's use of offstage sound—the farn beast's cough, the blast rifle's fire—as cues for narrative turning points. Neville's economy of description means that every gesture and repeated word carries weight. The story rewards attention to who speaks, who hesitates, and who acts without warning. Its power lies not in exotic world-building but in the recognizable dynamics of coercion and survival.

The rain kept drumming on the skylight while I reread Neville's reversal, that quiet shift where guides become quarry. It left me thinking about betrayal wearing a patient face. Later, half-listening to thunder, I picked up Nor Dust Corrupt — Edition Insights and found the same slow dread, only grayer, more domestic. Some afternoons, one story simply hands you the next.

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