CHAPTER IX
TRAKOR'S MISTAKE
It was close to nightfall when Tharn and Trakor reached the clearingwhere Jotan's party had been attacked by lions several nights before.Ashes from the long-dead fires still showed their outlines, tracked nowby the hoofs and paws of jungle beasts. An air of desolation seemed tohang above the scene like the miasmic vapors from some foul swamp.
The two Cro-Magnards knelt at the stream and quenched their thirst. Fornearly an hour the two young warriors sat side by side on the bankwithout speaking, while gradually shadows from the encircling wall oftrees stretched farther and farther across the glade. And then with thesuddenness peculiar to tropical climes night filled the forest and thevoices of hunters and hunted rose and fell about the clearing.
Trakor stirred uneasily as the roar of Sadu, monarch of the junglenight, rolled across the forest aisles from nearby. His ears, farsharper now from constant use, caught a faint stirring among the riverreeds a dozen yards from where Tharn and he were seated; and an instantlater those rustling stalks parted and Tarlok, the leopard, slunk intothe open.
The young man from Gerdak's caves sat very still, hardly daring tobreathe, as the lithe, powerfully muscled feline stood clearly revealedin the light of stars. For a long moment the cat stood as motionless assome beautifully carved statue, then gracefully bent its neck to dip thesoft furry muzzle into the water.
Trakor felt a cool breeze against his face and knew why Tarlok failed tosense the presence of Tharn and him. What, he wondered, would happen ifSiha, the wind, should suddenly reverse its course and bring their scentto Tarlok's sensitive nostril's? Would that terrible engine ofdestruction spring instantly upon them, rending and tearing before theycould give effective battle? It was an interesting problem to weigh,although Trakor felt he could do it far more justice from a seat on somelofty branch.
Tarlok finished slaking his thirst and without an instant's hesitationturned and vanished among the reeds. Trakor listened to the almostinaudible sounds of the cat's passage and felt a little glow of pride. Amoon ago he would have mistaken those rustlings as the passage ofSiha--if he had heard them at all.
Tharn stirred. "I am hungry!"
"And I!" agreed Trakor, abruptly aware that he had not eaten sincemid-morning.
"Let us find a comfortable branch for the night, then I will hunt foodwhile you wait there."
"Why can't I go with you?" Trakor demanded. "I am a good hunter. Did Inot, a sun ago, track down and slay Neela, the zebra, with my ownknife?"
"That was while Dyta was high in the sky," Tharn reminded him. "HuntingNeela or Bana at night requires long practice and many disappointments.Tonight I am too hungry to wait."
A towering forest giant offered a secure and comfortable haven for thenight; and while Trakor sat there fuming at being left out of things,Tharn swung off into the darkness in search of their dinner.
Less than an hour later he was back, a haunch of venison across oneshoulder. Together they squatted on a broad branch and cut strips of thestill dripping flesh from Bana's flank. They ate quickly and in silence,Trakor already having adopted the almost taciturn air common amongjungle dwellers; and when they were finished, a handful of leaves servedeach as a napkin.
Not long thereafter both were sleeping soundly on their swaying couch,as indifferent to the cacophony of roars, shrieks and screams makinghideous the jungle night as though such sounds did not exist.
* * * * *
They dined on the remainder of Bana's haunch shortly after sunrise thefollowing morning. After descending to drink from the stream in theclearing, Tharn set out to explore the former site of Jotan's camp in aneffort to pick up Dylara's trail.
Trakor squatted on his haunches and watched the cave lord with wide,wondering eyes. For several minutes Tharn moved slowly about the clearedground, his powerful body bent low, his unbelievably keen eyes searchingevery inch of earth. Gradually his companion began to understand therewas nothing aimless in his movements: he was circling in a graduallynarrowing spiral toward the exact center of the camp site.
After a while Trakor tired of watching and went back to the river todrink. He was on his way back when a sharp exclamation from his friendcaught his attention.
He was amazed to find Tharn on his hands and knees sniffing at theground. Those nostrils appeared to quiver, to expand and contract, likean animal's when it picks up a fresh spoor.
A prickling sensation tugged at Trakor's scalp. Was it possible thatthis god-like human could actually scent, and _recognize_ that scent,where a man or woman had stood days before? No human nose had anybusiness being that efficient!
Tharn looked up to find him standing there. "She slept here for severalhours," he said. On hands and knees he began to move in a straight lineacross the ground, swerved to one side near the former location of thefires, then on again across the wide ribbon of open ground between theheaps of ashes and the forest's edge. At the base of a large tree, hestood up and beckoned to Trakor.
"Sadu chased her to this tree," he explained, his voice as confident asthough he had witnessed the entire proceedings instead of reconstructingthem through the mediums of sight and smell. "He did not get her. Come."
Lightly Tharn swung himself into the branches, Trakor close behind him.To the cave lord this was an engaging sport--a sport made moreinteresting because happiness for him depended on his ability to followa cold trail.
Here a bit of lint from Dylara's tunic had caught beneath a segment ofbark; there a newly budded shoot had been crushed by a naked foot. Aspeck of green moisture on an adjoining branch marked where that samefoot had come to rest a little later; and further on a scuffed sectionof bark, almost too small to be detected, showed where a foot hadslipped slightly.
To Tharn, guided by uncanny powers of perception and a woodlore secondnot even to the beasts themselves, all these marks were as evident andrecognizable as words on a printed page to a scholar.
Dylara's progress had been snail-like that night as she worked her waythrough impenetrable darkness; Tharn moved along her pathway speedilyand without faltering, Trakor following.
In ten minutes the cave lord covered the distance Dylara had required anhour to travel. Abruptly he altered his course upward toward the foresttop, until, high among the smaller branches, he stopped and looked tohis nose for information.
Almost at once Trakor noticed a troubled expression carve itself onTharn's handsome face. "What is it, Tharn?"
His companion's lips set in a narrow line. "I do not know. Some strangemanlike creature with long hairy arms and legs surprised her here andcarried her away."
Moving slowly now, with many pauses, Tharn set out on the arborealpathway accompanied by the bewildered Trakor.
* * * * *
For nearly three full hours Tharn continued on through the middleterraces. It took him a good part of that time to get some sort ofaccurate picture of how that strange, hairy creature had regulated itsprogress. The distance between marks left by its hands and grasping feetseemed far too great for anything other than the most agile of monkeys.
So intent was Tharn on following the spoor, and so intent on Tharn washis companion, that the first indication either had of danger was whenfully a score of spider-like forms engulfed them from the depths of asmany hiding places among the foliage.
The first wave swept the still inexperienced Trakor completely from hisbranch, and he would have fallen headlong through space toward theground below had not one of the ambushers caught him by an ankle andjerked him roughly back to a different type of danger. In a mad furythat was half rage and half fear the youth struck out blindly with hisknife, killing three of his attackers and wounding several more beforehe went down beneath the sheer weight of numbers.
It was Tharn who took the subduing! With the first rustle of foliage hisknife was in his hand and he met the onslaught of twisting, shriekingspider-men like a rocky crag meets a storm-swept sea. Enemy after enemyt
oppled into the void, their bodies torn by his keen blade of flint;others went to join them with skulls crushed by superhuman blows or withspines snapped like twigs. Early in the battle Tharn learned it wasuseless merely to push them from the limb: they would fall a few feetuntil some long sinuous limb would catch a lower branch and back theywould come to the fight.
But the odds were far too unequal, and very slowly they pulled him down,as a pack of dogs will pull down a wide-antlered elk. Thick vines lashedhis arms to his sides until he was trussed and helpless.
Then both captives were lifted by the loudly exultant spider-men andborne to a conical shaped hut of grasses hanging by means of a thickrope of that same material from a pair of stout branches above its roof.Here they were thrown roughly to the swaying, bobbing floor on oppositesides of the structure, then left to themselves as the long-limbedspider-men departed.
Trakor waited until he was certain the last of them was gone, thendespite his bonds he managed to roll over until he was facing his friendthree or four yards away. The cave lord was lying motionless on hisside, swathed with strand upon strand of stout vines, his eyes open, hisexpression as calm and untroubled as though he were comfortablyensconced in his own cave.
"What will they do with us, Tharn?" whispered the youth.
Those broad shoulders moved in a faint shrug. "Who knows?"
It was far from being a satisfactory answer. Trakor was silent for alittle while, thinking unhappy thoughts. Through the hut's thin wallscame the shrill, unfamiliar chattering of many voices. Evidently thespider-men were holding some kind of a meeting--a meeting, Trakor wassure, concerning the eventual fate of their captives.
"Tharn...."
"Yes?"
"Can't we _do_ something? Must we lie here like two helpless old menuntil they get around to k-killing us?"
Tharn caught the slight break in the youth's words and his slow smiledisclosed flashing teeth. "They will not kill us for a while--otherwisewe would have been dead before this. Perhaps they intend to torture usfirst--either to enjoy our suffering or to honor their tribal god."
"But now we can do nothing. Four of them are watching our every movethrough chinks in these walls; our first move toward escape would bringthem upon us."
Trakor's eyes roved about the hut's sides. He could see no signs ofgleaming eyes peering in on them, but long ago he had learned never todoubt Tharn's ability to know things beyond the evident.
His voice went down. "Can they hear us?"
"Of course," Tharn said. "But that does not mean they can understandus. We do not speak their tongue, so we need not worry of beingoverheard."
"But what can we _do_?" Trakor demanded for the second time.
"At present, nothing. There is a way for us to escape but it depends onthem leaving us here until Dyta finds his lair for the night."
"And if they don't leave us here until dark?"
Tharn's smile appeared again. "Would you cheat them of their pleasure byworrying yourself to death?"
* * * * *
Trakor digested that in silence, seeing the wisdom in his friend's quietwords. He found his fear lessening fast; there was something in Tharn'scalm acceptance of their present difficulty that inspired confidence intheir eventual escape.
With the waning of his own fear he found room for concern about someoneelse. "Tharn!" he gasped. "Are these the ones who captured Dylara?"
A somber expression crept into the cave lord's eyes. "I am sure of it."
"Do you think that they have ... that they...." He could not finish.
"After we get away," Tharn said grimly, "I will learn the answer tothat. She may be held in another hut at this moment; but if they haveslain her...."
The rest of the morning and the long afternoon which followed wore on.None of their captors entered the hut to learn how they were faring,although not once were they unobserved from without. During the heat ofmidday the sound of shrill voices stilled; but along toward evening itstarted up again.
Tharn's position was such that he could see through the small aperturewhich served at the hut's doorway. As a result he was able to see ahorde of the spider-men begin the construction of a good sized platformof small branches in a neighboring tree. At first their purpose was notclear to him; but when, shortly before darkness set in, he saw two tallstraight branches denuded of vegetation thrust upright, side by side,into the platform, he understood something of what they had in mind.This understanding became certainty a little later when he noticed ascore of the female members of the tribe busy at the task of puttingsharp points on many long straight sticks, using flint knives for thatpurpose.
He and Trakor would be bound to those stakes and slowly prodded todeath! The all-important question was, would that take place this nightor would the spider-men wait until dawn? It hardly seemed logical theywould be so tortured without sufficient light for the spider-men toobserve their sufferings; and to use fire among the inflammable treetops would be sheer folly--if indeed these creatures were fire users atall.
Darkness came and still none of the spider-men entered the hut. Both menwere suffering the pangs of thirst, but hunger had not yet become aproblem. Evidently their hosts had no intentions of pampering them.
Sometime later three of the spider-men crawled into the hut andimmediately set about examining the prisoners' thongs. So intense wasthe darkness now that they had to depend solely on the sense of touch.Satisfied the bonds were intact, the three found places on the floor andpresently the sounds of even breathing told all were asleep.
Tharn lay there unmoving while the minutes slipped by and became hours.With the inexhaustible patience of all wild creatures he bided his time,waiting until the sleep of those guards was sound. Several times heheard Trakor stir impatiently and he smiled a little under cover ofdarkness. Trakor was waiting for a miracle.
The position of the three spider-men was such that leaving by thedoor was impossible, even were the prisoners able to gain use of legsand arms. Even if they were able to loose their bonds, a simultaneousattack could account only for two--leaving the third free to raise analarm.
Slowly, with many pauses lest the jiggling of the flooring arouse thoseguards, Tharn began to roll himself to Trakor's side. So carefully didhe move that almost a full hour had passed before he reached hisobjective.
He felt the animal heat of the youth's body, and a barely audible wordreached his ears. "Tharn?"
"Shhh!"
And then Tharn began to gnaw at Trakor's bonds. His strong sharp teethbit into those tough green vines, filling his mouth with an unpleasanttaste. It was slow, jaw-tiring work and the vines were many, stringy andreluctant to part. But the cave lord's indomitable patience andperseverance were not to be denied.
* * * * *
At long last Trakor was able to free his hands. He winced as blood beganto move again in his veins and minutes passed before he was able tocontrol his hands. His questing fingers found the knots holding Tharnhelpless and very soon both men were free to act.
Still lying side by side, Tharn began to whisper instructions. Twice oneof the sleeping spider-men stirred and the two Cro-Magnards held theirbreaths until he had quieted.
When Trakor nodded to indicate Tharn's plan was clear to him, the cavelord rose to his feet and, like a shadowy wraith, moved to the nearestwall. This was a tense moment in the execution of his plan; its entiresuccess depended on how substantial that wall would prove to be.
A brief examination by the means of touch alone told him the hut wasconstructed by first forming a cage-like skeleton of fairly thick butpliable boughs, then interlacing the openings with grass. The horizontal"beams" were roughly three feet apart; the roof, as Tharn had earlierbeen careful to gauge, was something like fifteen feet above the floorat its highest point.
Tharn's original plan had been to force an opening in one of these wallslarge enough for Trakor and him to wriggle through into the open air.But his ears and nose told him that th
is hut was practically ringed withpatrolling sentries, several of which were perched among branchesdirectly above the hut itself. The minute he and Trakor appeared outsidethey would be buried under an avalanche of spider-men.
But there was another way--a way daring and imaginative and infinitelydangerous. But in its daring lay the very chances for its success--whiledanger was so common a phenomenon in jungle life as to rouse little morethan indifference among its dwellers.
Using the relatively sturdy skeletal branches foot--and hand--holdsTharn began to climb up that rounded wall. After some eight feet of thisthe inner side of the conical roof began and the cave lord was hardpressed to cling to the inward sloping surface.
But his steel thews served their purpose, and a moment or two later hehad gained the single heavy section of branch at the very point of theroof. Here the thick grass rope which held the entire hut in the airentered from above, its ends tied securely about the cross piece onwhich Tharn was now perched.
From a hidden pouch in the folds of his loin cloth Tharn took a bit ofkeen-edged flint: the primitive razor with which he painstakinglyscraped each second day his sprouting beard. With this he began to sawthrough the taut rope holding the hut aloft!
Gradually the straining rope began to part. Once it gave, the entirestructure, weighted by its five occupants, would plummet toward theground nearly a hundred feet below. There were enough interveningbranches to break the fall sufficiently to keep them from being dashedto instant death; but for those three sleeping spider-men it would be amad, whirling journey that, once it ended, would daze them long enoughfor Tharn and Trakor to break for freedom.
Three strands remained, then two. The entire hut lurched sickeningly,the final strand parted with an audible snap as Tharn caught franticallyat the cross piece, and down went the hut!
It was a mad mixture of crashing sounds, of breaking branches, of shrillscreams, of falling and bouncing bodies, of clawing hands and feet.Slithering, scrambling shapes sought to stabilize themselves byattaching themselves to walls, ceiling or roof, but to no avail. OnlyTrakor, digging his fingers and bare toes desperately into the yieldingflooring, and Tharn, wrapped tightly about that crosspiece, were able tohold their positions; while back and forth between them shuffled thethree spider-men.
* * * * *
Halfway down, one entire wall broke loose, spilling the guards into thevoid. As the mazes of foliage grew denser nearer the ground, the remainsof the hut began to slow its fall, grinding to a complete stop sometwenty feet above ground.
Instantly Tharn and Trakor were out of the ruins and racing away throughthe branches. Behind them they could hear a wild chorus of angryscreams, but apparently the spider-men were still too dazed andbewildered to set up a planned pursuit.
An hour later Tharn called a halt. They stood silently on a high branchfor a little while, listening for some sign that their late captors hadtaken up the chase.
"We have thrown them off," Tharn said finally. "I'll give them a fewhours to get over their shock and return to sleep--then I'm going back."
"Going back!" echoed Trakor, aghast, "Why?"
"I must learn what they have done with Dylara. Too, my knife, rope andbow and arrows are somewhere within the wreckage of that hut."
"But even you, Tharn, would be helpless against so many," protestedTrakor.
Tharn shrugged. "It is the only way," he said, and there was that in histone which ended further discussion.
They stretched their bodies out on adjoining branches and after a whileTrakor fell into a troubled sleep. He awakened with a start, to find thefirst flush of dawn across the eastern sky and an empty branch whereTharn had been during the night.
He had little time to worry about his companion's absence; for barelyhad he opened his eyes than a rustling among the foliage of aneighboring tree brought him hastily to his feet in time to see Tharnemerge into view.
Across the caveman's back was his quiver of arrows, his bow and hisrope; thrust within the folds of his loin cloth was his flint knife, andacross one shoulder was the meaty foreleg of Neela, the zebra. This lasthe thrust into Trakor's dazed hands.
"Fill your belly," he said, grinning at the youth's slack-jawedexpression. "We have work to do."
"But--But----"
"It was easy," Tharn said, "but only because I was very fortunate. WhenI got there they were not sleeping; for the commotion I doubt that theywill sleep for a long time. While waiting for an opportunity to climbamong their huts to hunt for Dylara, I set out to get back my weapons.The knife and rope were still in the broken hut and I found them atonce. But I was forced to hunt about under the trees for my arrows andbow--and a good thing it was!"
"Why do you say that?"
"I came across Dylara's trail. It seem----"
"In the _dark_? How could you _see_?"
Tharn tapped his nose and smiled as understanding dawned in his youngfriend's eyes. "It seems," he continued, "that she managed to get awayfrom them just a little while ago, for her scent spoor was still fresh.I followed it far enough to learn that she found a game trail leadinginto the east which she followed. It is not far from here; feed, and wewill set out to overtake her."
* * * * *
Early that afternoon Tharn and Trakor were swinging lightly through thetrees above a winding elephant path cutting almost due south through thejungle. Even from his elevated position Tharn was able to make out anoccasional print of a sandal in the powdery dust below. Dylara had leftthose marks--left them so recently that the passing feet of animals hadnot yet obliterated them.
The thought of her nearness brought an almost painful sensation ofswelling deep within his chest and a strange ache at his wrists. Therealization that he might soon be holding her within the circle of hisarms, that his lips would be pressed against hers before another sun ortwo, made him eager to race madly ahead, outdistancing his slowercompanion.
But would she be as moved at sight of him? He recalled words spoken byher on those two brief occasions they had been together--first when hehad wrested her from the caves of her father and taken her deep withinthe jungle. How her eyes had blazed with loathing! How her voice hadrung out with hatred and disdain. "I hate you!" she had said; nor didshe retract those words days later when, at the last possible instant,he had slain Sadu to save her life.[3]
[3] "Warrior of the Dawn," December, 1942-January, 1943, _AmazingStories_.--Ed.
True, when Sadu sank lifeless to the ground between them, she had thrownherself into his arms, and the warm promise of her lips had crystallizedforever within him his love for her. But that impulsive act might havebeen born of gratitude alone; he had been given no opportunity to findout one way or the other; for Jotan and seven of his men had arrived atthat moment to take her from him.
Love, Tharn had long before decided, was a wonderful and annoying thing,bringing, as it did, both pleasure and torture, peace and unrest. Allhis wondering, all his doubts were for nothing until he could come faceto face again with Dylara. And even then he might not know her answer;she would welcome him, of course, for in him alone was her sole hope ofreturning to her people.
But he did not want her to return to her own caves! She must go with himto his tribe--and go she must, with or without her own consent!
The winding trail below ended suddenly at the edge of an extensiveclearing, through which ran a wide shallow sluggish river. From deepamong a thick growth of reeds on the latter's opposite shore came aspine-tingling chorus of snarls and growls and the sounds of jawsgrinding against bones.
Tharn seemed literally to fall the fifty or sixty feet between hiselevated position and the ground below. The density of that growth ofreeds kept him from seeing what animals were feeding there and the windat his back left his nose useless in obtaining that information. Yet hecharged in that direction with all the silent ferocity of Sadu himself,a swelling fear within him that it was Dylara's soft flesh which wasfurnishing those unseen beasts with the
ir dinner.
* * * * *
Knife in hand, lips curled back in a savage snarl, the cave lord torehis way through the tangled growth. With the first sounds of hispassage, that chorus of growls ceased, and Tharn knew those unseenjungle dwellers were prepared to defend their kill.
Without slackening his pace he burst full upon a pack of hyenassurrounding the half-devoured carcass of Sadu, the lion. Snarling andspitting their rage they held ground, evil teeth bared, the hairstanding stiff along their spines, ready to give battle; for, innumbers, cowardly Gubo was a force to be reckoned with.
An instant later three of them lay dead and the rest fleeing wildly intothe surrounding jungle, while Tharn restored his bloody knife to itsplace in the folds of his loin-cloth and knelt beside Sadu's remains.
Trakor arrived on the scene while Tharn was completing his examination.Wide-eyed he stared at the lion and then at the stern face of hiscompanion. He said, "What happened to Sadu, Tharn? Surely Gubo did notkill him?"
The cave lord shook his head. "Sadu died under many Ammadian spears."
"Ammadian?" repeated Trakor, astonished. "Not those who were hunting forDylara?"
"I am not sure--yet."
Tharn rose and began to circle slowly that section of the clearingadjacent to Sadu's remains. Trakor watched him, fascinated, as hescrutinized the trampled grasses in an effort to piece together detailsof what had taken place. Twice he knelt and placed his nostrils close tothe ground, the last time remaining in that position for severalminutes.
Finally he straightened and beckoned to Trakor. "They have her," he saidtonelessly. "She was fleeing from Sadu. Their spears cut him down intime, then they took her with them. There are many of them--at leastfifty--and they are none I have come across before. Evidently we arevery near to Ammad."
"How far are they ahead of us?"
"A sun's march--if that."
"What do we do now, Tharn?"
"Overtake them, of course--and take Dylara from them."
He said this last with a crisp decisiveness that left no room for doubt.But Trakor was shaking his head.
"There are fifty of them, Tharn. How can two of us fight so many?"
"There are other ways than by fighting. First we must catch up withthem; then we will work out a way to get her."
* * * * *
The swift journey through the jungle that afternoon was something Trakorwas never to forget. As though driven by some overpowering urge, Tharnraced southward through the middle terraces with astonishing speed.Trakor sought manfully to match his pace, but time and again the cavelord left him behind, only to hold up on some high flung branch untilhis younger companion could close the gap. Twice Tharn stopped for restperiods--not because his own iron physique needed them, but to preventTrakor from collapsing entirely. The realization was galling to theyoungster, and it brought home forcibly to him that, for all his rapidprogress in jungle lore and jungle living since Tharn had adopted him,he was still as a new-born child compared to Tharn.
And while Tharn fretted at thus being forced to slow his pace, he kepthis impatience from showing by expression or word. Paradoxically he hadspent almost a moon in teaching his companion the ways of the forest andits inhabitants without progressing along the trail to Ammad, but Dylarawas a comparatively long way ahead at that time. Now that she waswithin a few hours of him, even an instant's delay galled him.
Night came with the abruptness peculiar to this part of the world, andstill the winding elephant trail below showed no signs of the Ammadians.Lack of light slowed Trakor to a comparative crawl, and while from timeto time he urged Tharn to go on without waiting for him, the cave lordonly shook his head.
And then, two hours after Dyta had sought his lair for the night, afaint glow against the southern sky marked the location of fire. Thiscould have meant the most dread of all jungle perils--a forest fire; butthe glow seemed too small and much too localized for that.
"The Ammadian night fires," Tharn said in reply to his friend'squestion. "Doubtless they have camped in some clearing along the way andhave made a circle of fire to keep Sadu and Jalok at bay."
Not long thereafter the two Cro-Magnon men came to a halt high in thebranches of a great tree. Below and before them was a wide clearing, inthe center of which a host of white-tunicked men squatted about smallcooking fires. The savory odors of freshly grilled meat rose on the airand Trakor felt his mouth water. Food had not passed his lips since thatmorning and traveling, he realized, made for large appetites.
The entire encampment was girded by windrows of blazing branches andthorn bushes under constant attendance by several of the Ammadianwarriors. Spears, knives, bows and arrows were much in evidence, andthere was that atmosphere of relaxed competence about the entire scenethat indicated beyond doubt these were seasoned veterans who knew thejungle and its ways.
But of it all nothing existed for Tharn beyond a slenderly roundedwhite-tunicked figure seated in the company of several warriors about acooking fire almost exactly in the center of the camp. At sight of thatwealth of reddish gold hair and the sweet curve of a tanned cheek, heknew his search was over, that the girl he loved was almost within hisreach. A burning impulse bade him throw caution to the winds and chargeamong those hated Ammadians and wrest her from them.
Under the threat of the guard's sword he knelt in ahumble way]
* * * * *
Those who let emotion rule filled early graves, however. A dead Tharnwas useless to himself and useless to Dylara--and any such wild chargewould be completely suicidal. Dylara seemed in no immediate danger,although it was clear from her actions, as well as the actions of thoseabout her, that she was not sharing that cooking fire as an honoredguest.
He fingered the string of his bow at its place about his shoulder. Howhe would have liked to send her some message that help was near, thatsoon she would be taken from these men and restored to the arms of oneof her own kind. An arrow from out of the darkness into the heart of oneof those men near her!
No. To do that would rouse the camp, keep them all awake for the rest ofthe night. For Tharn's purpose those Ammadians must remain lulled by asense of security provided by their circle of fires. The quieter thenight, the smaller the number of sentries to be posted when the timecame for seeking sleeping furs for the night.
Trakor, too, was making good use of his eyes. This was the first partyof Ammadians he had ever seen and he was open-mouthed with interest. Thestrange white skins they wore, the pieces of beautifully shaped leatheron their feet, fascinated him and he longed to own such wondrous things.He stared for a long time at Dylara, marveling at her beauty. EvenLanoa, whose beauty paled into nothingness that of every woman ofGerdak's tribe was just another she when compared to this vision ofloveliness. The thought made him smile a little sadly. It was the firsttime he had thought of Lanoa in nearly a moon.
Tharn said, "Remain here, Trakor, while I hunt for food."
The younger man nodded and Tharn slipped silently away. After he wasgone Trakor lay down on a branch so situated as to give him an unimpededview of the scene below and continued to watch....
A slight movement of his support aroused him. Tharn, laden with meatfrom a fresh kill, came to squat beside him and they filled theirbellies with the hot, succulent raw flesh.
The young man wiped his hands and lips free of blood and turnedinquiring eyes on his companion. "Have you thought of a way to take herfrom them, Tharn?"
The cave lord shook his head. "It will depend on where she sleeps and onhow many guards are posted. Nothing can be done until the camp issettled for the night. Now we shall sleep."
With Tharn wedged into a tree fork in a neighboring tree, Trakor wasleft to select his own couch. He made no move toward doing so, however,but continued to lay along that same branch watching the Ammadians. Hewondered how Tharn was able to go so calmly to sleep when so much thatwas new and exciting was taking place. His own wearin
ess was completelyforgotten.
An hour passed. Most of the camp was sleeping now. Four guards weremoving slowly about the circle of fires; these and a group of five orsix warriors talking about the ashes of a cooking fire were the onlyexceptions. Dylara was sound asleep, wrapped in a bundle of borrowedfurs and lying well away from the nearest Ammadian.
* * * * *
A plan was taking shape slowly in Trakor's active mind. Why couldn't_he_ rescue Dylara? This was his big chance to show Tharn how well hehad profited by the cave lord's teachings. How proud his friend would bewhen he awakened to find Dylara beside him safe and sound, rescued bythe stealth and daring of his protege!
The longer Trakor thought about it, the better it looked. Impatientlyhe glowered at the dawdling warriors about the last fire. Were they tosit there gossiping throughout the night? At any moment Tharn mightawake and spoil the whole thing!
Good! That last group was breaking up. One of them went over to the sideof the sleeping girl, bent and stared at her, then straightened andcalled something to his companions. There was a brief sound of coarselaughter, the warrior rejoined his fellows and all sought their sleepingfurs.
Another hour inched by. It was an unusually quiet night. Only twice didTrakor hear the voices of the big cats and each time it was from adistance. The darkness was absolute except for the dying flames from theprotecting circle of fire below. Heavy clouds, forerunners perhaps ofthe storm Tharn had forecast, obscured moon and stars.
Those four guards continued their casual pacing. Trakor, watchingintently, observed something finally that served to crystallize hisplans. At fairly regular intervals those four came together at a pointwell away from where Dylara lay. Each time they stood in a group forseveral moments while they exchanged pleasantries, breaking the monotonyof standing guard.
With slow caution, lest he arouse Tharn, the young cave man slippedgroundward. There he began a slow circling of the clearing, masked fromthe sentries by heavy foliage. When he reached a spot on a direct linefrom where Dylara lay, he gently lowered himself bellyflat in the ribbonof grasses between the forest and the protecting wall of fire and beganto inch himself forward like a giant snake.
Luckily the grass was high enough to hide him. His greatest danger wasthat one of those experienced warriors might glimpse the manner in whichthe grass tops were swaying.
He was near enough now to feel the heat of flames. His heart waspounding mightily and his fingers seemed to be trembling as he draggedhimself still closer. Did they tremble with fear, he asked himself? No;it was only excitement that caused him to react so--of this he wascertain.
According to his calculations those four guards should be close toanother of those brief meetings on the opposite side of the camp. Slowlyhe lifted his head until he could make out their, and his own, position.
He was a few seconds behind schedule: the four of them were alreadytogether and not quite as far away as he would have liked. But in hisfavor was the fact that he was much closer to where Dylara lay sleepingthan he had expected to be.
There was no time for hesitation, no time to bolster his courage. Risingto his feet, his body bent into a deep crouch, Trakor sped with swiftsilence through a break in the fire wall. Beyond this, five hurriedstrides brought him beside the sleeping cave princess. He wasted no timein glancing around to learn if his daring move had been witnessed. Hecould feel the skin crawl at his back as he bent, shoved a fold of thegirl's sleeping furs across her face to drown out any involuntary cry,and swung her up into his arms.
He wheeled to flee ... then froze in his tracks at sight of three spearsleveled at his naked chest.
The Return of Tharn Page 9