I have trod many tangled jungles, explored the floors of innumerable
oceans and braved death in so many forms that a man less magnificent
than myself would have died of fright. But if there is one event that
stands out in my perfect memory that can still raise a goosebump or two
on my broad tanned shoulders, the event is when I went hunting for the
flying tuskers of K'niik-K'naak. There we were, myself and my faithful
old purple Andromedan guide, Mimp, out in the vast blue-white desert of
Polaris III, looking for the flying tuskers.
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