TEXT: LOST AT THE EARTH'S CORE 
  When the great dirigible, the O-220, sailed away from 
  the inner world of Pellucidar, it left behind one member 
  of its crew, a brave man they thought lost forever amid 
  the unexplored terrors of that primeval land. 
  That man was Lieutenant von Horst, and BACK TO 
  THE STONE AGE is the story of the strange adventures 
  that befell him as he wandered, friendless and alone, 
  from one danger to another. Here also is the story of the 
  love of this cultured man for a barbarian slave girl who 
  discouraged him and ran away from him for a strange 
  purpose that keeps the reader guessing to the very end. 
  Here is a thrilling novel of mighty beasts, savage men, 
  weird monsters, and human courage that equals anything 
  you have ever read before. 
  
  EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS 
  1875-1950 
  One of Chicago's most famous sons was Edgar Rice 
  Burroughs. Young Burroughs tried his hand at many 
  businesses without success, until, at the age of thirty-five, 
  he turned to writing. With the publication of Tarzan of 
  the Apes and A Princess of Mars, his career was assured. 
  The gratitude of a multitude of readers who found in 
  his imagination exactly the kind of escape reading they 
  loved assured him of a large fortune. 
  Edgar Rice Burroughs died at home in a town bearing 
  the name of his brain child, Tarzana, California. But, to 
  the countless millions who have enjoyed his works, he 
  will live forever. 
  
  EDGAR RICE 
  BURROUGHS 
  BACK TO THE 
  STONE AGE 
  Original Title: Seven Worlds to Conquer 
   
  ace books 
  A Division of Charter Communications Inc. 
  1120 Avenue of the Americas 
  New York, N.Y. 10036 
  
  BACK  TO  THE  STONE  AGE 
  Copyright ©, 1936,1937, by Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. 
  An Ace Book, by arrangement with Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. 
  Originally published under the title, Seven Worlds to Conquer, 
  All Rights Reserved 
  COVER PAINTING by FRANK FRAZETTA 
  Fourth Ace printing: January, 1973 
  Printed in U.S.A. 
  
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  I 
  LIVING DEATH 
  THE ETERNAL noonday sun of Pellucidar looked down 
  upon such a scene as the outer crust of earth may not 
  have witnessed for countless ages past, such a scene as 
  only the inner world of the earth's core may produce 
  today. 
  Hundreds of saber-toothed tigers were driving count-
  less herbivorous animals into a clearing in a giant forest; 
  and two white men from the outer crust were there to 
  see, two white men and a handful of black warriors from 
  far distant Africa. 
  The men had come in a giant dirigible with others of 
  their kind through the north polar opening at the top of 
  the world at the urgent behest of Jason Gridley, but that 
  is a story that has been once told. 
  This is the story of the one who was lost. 
  "It doesn't seem possible," exclaimed Gridley, "that 
  five hundred miles below our feet automobiles are dash-
  ing through crowded streets lined by enormous build-
  ings; that there the telegraph, the telephone, and the 
  radio are so commonplace as to excite no comment; that 
  countless thousands live out their entire lives without 
  ever having to use a weapon in self-defense, and yet at 
  the same instant we stand here facing saber-toothed 
  tigers in surroundings that may not have existed upon 
  the outer crust since a million years." 
  "Look at them!" exclaimed von Horst. "Look at what 
  7 
  
   
  they've driven into this clearing already, and more corn-
  ing." 
  There were great ox-like creatures with shaggy coats 
  and wide-spreading horns. There were red deer and 
  sloths of gigantic size. There were mastadons and mam-
  moths, and a huge, elephantine creature that resembled 
  an elephant and yet did not seem to be an elephant at 
  all. Its great head was four feet long and three feet 
  broad. It had a short, powerful trunk and from its lower 
  jaw mighty tusks curved downward, their points bending 
  inward toward the body. At the shoulder it stood at least 
  ten feet above the ground, and in length it must have 
  been fully twenty feet. But what resemblance it bore to 
  an elephant was lessened by its small, pig-like ears. 
  The two white men, momentarily forgetting the tigers 
  behind them in their amazement at the sight ahead, 
  halted and looked with wonder upon the huge gathering 
  of creatures within the clearing. But it soon became ap-
  parent that if they were to escape with their lives they 
  must reach the safety of the trees before they were either 
  dragged down by the sabertooths or trampled to death 
  by the frightened herbivores which were already milling 
  around looking for an avenue of escape. 
  "There is still one opening ahead of us, bwana," said 
  Muviro, the black chief of the Waziri. 
  "We shall have to run for it," said Gridley. "The beasts 
  are all headed in our direction now. Give them a volley, 
  and then beat it for the trees. If they charge, it will be 
  every man for himself." 
  The volley turned them back for an instant; but when 
  they saw the great cats behind them, they wheeled about 
  once more in the direction of the men. 
  "Here they come!" cried von Horst. Then the men 
  broke into a run as they sought to reach the trees that 
  offered the only sanctuary. 
  8 
  
   
  Gridley was bowled over by a huge sloth; then he 
  scrambled to his feet just in time to leap from the path, 
  of a fleeing mastodon and reach a tree just as the main 
  body of the stampeding herd closed about it. A moment 
  later, temporarily safe among the branches, he looked 
  about for his companions; but none was in sight, nor 
  could any living thing so puny as man have remained 
  alive beneath that solid mass of leaping, plunging, ter-
  rified beasts. Some of his fellows, he felt sure, might have 
  reached the forest in safety; but he feared for von Horst, 
  who had been some little distance in rear of the Waziri. 
  But Lieutenant Wilhelm von Horst had escaped. In fact, 
  he had succeeded in running some little distance into the 
  forest without having to take to the trees. He had borne 
  off to the right away from the escaping animals, which 
  had veered to the left after they entered the forest. He 
  could hear them thundering away in the distance, squeal-
  ing and trumpeting, grunting and bellowing. 
  Winded and almost exhausted, he sat down at the foot 
  of a tree to catch his breath and rest. He was very tired, 
  and just for a moment he closed his eyes. The sun was 
  directly overhead. When he opened his eyes again the 
  sun was still directly overhead. He realized that he had 
  dozed, but he thought that it had been for but an instant. 
  He did not know that he had slept for a long time. How 
  long, who may say? For how may time be measured in 
  this timeless world whose stationary sun hangs eternally 
  motionless at zenith? 
  The forest was strangely silent. No longer did he hear 
  the trumpeting and squealing of the herbivores or the 
  growls and snarls of the cats. He called aloud to attract 
  the attention of his friends, but there was no response; 
  then he set out in search of them, taking what he thought 
  was a direct route back toward the main camp where the 
  dirigible was moored and toward which he knew they 
  9 
  
   
  would be sure to go. But instead of going north, as he 
  should have done, he went west. 
  Perhaps it was just as well that he did, for presently 
  he heard voices. He stopped and listened. Men were ap-
  proaching. He heard them distinctly, but he could not 
  recognize their language. They might be friendly; but, in 
  this savage world, he doubted it. He stepped from the 
  trail he had been following and concealed himself be-
  hind a clump of bushes, and a moment later the men that 
  he had heard came into view. They were Muviro and his 
  warriors. They were speaking the dialect of their own 
  African tribe. At sight of them von Horst stepped into 
  the trail. They were as glad to see him as he was to see 
  them. Now if they could but find Gridley they would be 
  happy; but they did not find him, though they searched 
  for a long time. 
  Muviro knew no better than von Horst where they 
  were or the direction of camp; and he and his warriors 
  were much chagrined to think that they, the Waziri, 
  could be lost in any forest. As they compared notes it 
  seemed evident that each had made a large circle in 
  opposite directions after they had separated. Only thus 
  could they account for their coming together face to 
  face as they had, since each insisted that he had not at 
  any time retraced his steps. 
  The Waziri had not slept, and they were very tired. 
  Von Horst, on the contrary had slept and was rested; so, 
  when they found a cave that would give them all shelter, 
  the Waziri went in where it was dark and slept while von 
  Horst sat on the ground at the mouth of the cave and 
  tried to plan for the future. As he sat there quietly a 
  large boar passed; and, knowing that they would require 
  meat, the man rose and stalked it. It had disappeared 
  around a curve in the trail; but though he thought that 
  he was close behind it he never seemed to be able to 
  10 
  
   
  catch sight of it again, and there was such a patchwork 
  of trails crossing and crisscrossing that he was soon con-
  fused and started back toward the cave. 
  He had walked a considerable distance before he real-
  ized that he was lost. He called Muviro's name aloud, 
  but there was no response; then he stopped and tried 
  very carefully to figure out in what direction the cave 
  must be. He looked up at the sun mechanically, as though 
  it might help him. It hung at zenith. How could he plot 
  a course where there were no stars but only a sun that 
  hung perpetually straight above one's head? He swore 
  under his breath and set out again. He could only do his 
  best. 
  For what seemed a very long time he plodded on, but 
  it was still noon. Often, mechanically, he glanced up at 
  the sun, the sun that gave him no bearings nor any hint 
  of the lapse of time, until he came to hate the shining 
  orb that seemed to mock him. The forest and the jungle 
  teemed with life. Fruits and flowers and nuts grew in 
  profusion. He never need lack for a variety of food if he 
  but knew which he might safely eat and which he might 
  not. He was very hungry and thirsty, and it was the latter 
  that worried him most. He had a pistol and plenty of 
  ammunition. In this lush game country he could always 
  provide himself with meat, but he must have water. He 
  pushed on. It was water that he was looking for now 
  more than for his companions or for camp. He com-
  menced to suffer from thirst, and he became very tired 
  again and sleepy. He shot a large rodent and drank its 
  blood; then he made a fire and cooked the carcass. It 
  was only half cooked beneath the surface which was 
  charred in places. Lieutenant Wilhelm von Horst was a 
  man accustomed to excellent food properly prepared and 
  served, but he tore at the carcass of his unsavory kill 
  like a famished wolf and thought that no meal had ever 
  11 
  
   
  tasted more delicious. He did not know how long he had 
  been without food. Now he slept again, this time in a 
  tree; for he had caught a glimpse of a great beast through 
  the foliage of the jungle, a beast with enormous fangs 
  and blazing eyes. 
  Again, when he awoke, he did not know how long he 
  had slept; but the fact that he was entirely rested sug-
  gested that it had been a long time. He felt that it was 
  entirely possible in a world where there was no time that 
  a man might sleep a day or a week. How was one to 
  know? The thought intrigued him. He commenced to 
  wonder how long he had been away from the dirigible. 
  Only the fact that he had not quenched his thirst since 
  he had been separated from his comrades suggested that 
  it could not have been but a day or two, though now he 
  was actually suffering for water. It was all that he could 
  think of. He started off in search of it. He must have 
  water! If he didn't he would die—die here alone in this 
  terrible forest, his last resting place forever unknown 
  to any human being. Von Horst was a social animal; and, 
  as such, this idea was repugnant to him. He was not 
  afraid to die; but this seemed such an entirely futile end— 
  and he was very young, still in his twenties. 
  He was following a game trail. There were many of 
  them; they crossed and crisscrossed all through the 
  forest. Some of them must lead to water; but which one? 
  He had chosen the one he was following because it was 
  broader and more plainly marked than the others. Many 
  beasts had passed along it and, perhaps, for an incalcula-
  ble time, for it was worn deep; and von Horst reasoned 
  that more animals would follow a trail that led to water 
  than would follow any other trail. He was right. When 
  he came to a little river, he gave a cry of delight and 
  ran to it and threw himself face down upon the bank. He 
  drank in great gulps. Perhaps it should have harmed him, 
  12 
  
   
  but it did not. It was a clean little river that ran among 
  boulders over a gravelly bottom, a gem of a river that 
  carried on its bosom to the forest and the lowlands the 
  freshness and the coolness and the beauty of the moun-
  tains that gave it birth. Von Horst buried his face in the 
  water, he let it purl over his bare arms, he cupped his 
  hands and dipped it up and poured it over his head, he 
  revelled in it. He felt that he had never known a luxury 
  so rare, so desirable. His troubles vanished. Everything 
  would be all right now—he had water! Now he was safe! 
  He looked up. Upon the opposite bank of the little 
  river squatted such a creature as was never in any book, 
  the bones of which were never in any museum. It re-
  sembled a gigantic winged kangaroo with the head of a 
  reptile, pterodactyl-like in its long, heavily fanged jaws. 
  It was watching von Horst intently, its cold, reptilian, 
  lidless eyes staring at him expressionlessly. There was 
  something terribly menacing in its fixed gaze. The man 
  started to rise slowly; then the hideous thing came to 
  sudden life. With a hissing scream it cleared the little 
  river in a single mighty bound. Von Horst turned to run, 
  meanwhile tugging at the pistol in his holster; but before 
  he could draw it, before he could escape, the thing 
  pounced upon him and bore him to earth; then it picked 
  him up in claw-like hands and held him out and surveyed 
  him. Sitting erect upon its broad tail it towered fifteen 
  feet in height, and at close range its jaws seemed almost 
  large enough to engulf the puny man-thing that gazed 
  in awe upon them. Von Horst thought that his end had 
  come. He was helpless in the powerful grip of those 
  mighty talons, beneath one of which his pistol hand was 
  pinned to his side. The creature seemed to be gloating 
  over him, debating, apparently, where to take the first 
  bite; or at least so it seemed to von Horst. 
  At the point where the stream crossed the trail there 
  13 
  
   
  was an opening in the leafy canopy of the forest, through 
  which the eternal noonday sun cast its brilliant rays upon 
  the rippling water, the green sward, the monstrous crea-
  ture, and its relatively puny captive. The reptile, if such 
  it were, turned its cold eyes upward toward the opening; 
  then it leaped high into the air, and as it did so it spread 
  its wings and flapped dismally upward. 
  Von Horst was cold with apprehension. He recalled 
  stories he had read of some great bird of the outer crust 
  that carried its prey aloft and then killed it by letting it 
  fall to the ground. He wondered if this were to be his 
  fate, and he thanked his Maker that there would be so 
  few to mourn him—no wife nor children to be left with-
  out protector and provider, no sweetheart to mourn his 
  loss, pining for the lover who would never return. 
  They were above the forest now. The strange, horizon-
  less landscape stretched away in all directions, fading 
  gradually into nothingness as it passed from the range of 
  human vision. Beyond the forest, in the direction of the 
  creature's flight, lay open country, rolling hills, and 
  mountains. Von Horst could see rivers and lakes and, in 
  the far, hazy distance, what appeared to be a great body 
  of water—an inland sea, perhaps, or a vast, uncharted 
  ocean; but in whatever direction he might look lay 
  mystery. 
  His situation was not one that rendered the contempla-
  tion of scenery a factor of vital interest, but presently 
  whatever interest he had in it was definitely wiped out. 
  The thing that carried him suddenly relinquished its 
  hold with one paw. Von Horst thought that it was going 
  to drop him, that the end had come. He breathed a little 
  prayer. The creature raised him a few feet and then 
  lowered him into a dark, odorous pocket which it held 
  open with its other paw. When it released its hold upon 
  him, von Horst was in utter darkness. For an instant he 
  14 
  
   
  was at a loss to explain his situation; then it dawned 
  upon him that he was in the belly pouch of a marsupial. 
  It was hot and stifling. He thought he would suffocate, 
  and the reptilian stench was almost overpowering. When 
  he could endure it no longer he pushed himself upward 
  until his head protruded from the mouth of the pouch. 
  The creature was flying horizontally by now, and the 
  man's view was restricted to what lay almost directly be-
  neath. They were still over the forest. The foliage, lying 
  like billowed clouds of emerald, looked soft and inviting. 
  Von Horst wondered why he was being carried away 
  alive and whither. Doubtless to some nest or lair to serve 
  as food, perhaps for a brood of hideous young. He 
  fingered his pistol. How easy it would be to fire into that 
  hot, pulsing body; but what would it profit him? It would 
  mean almost certain death—possibly a lingering death if 
  he were not instantly killed, for the only alternative to 
  that would be fatal injuries. He abandoned the thought. 
  The creature was flying at surprising speed, consider-
  ing its size. The forest passed from view; and they sped 
  out over a tree-dotted plain where the man saw countless 
  animals grazing or resting. There were great red deer, 
  sloths, enormous primitive cattle with shaggy coats; and 
  near clumps of bamboo that bordered a river was a herd 
  of mammoths. There were other animals, too, that von 
  Horst was unable to classify. Presently they flew above 
  low hills, leaving the plain behind, and then over a 
  rough, volcanic country of barren, black, cone-shaped 
  hills. Between the cones and part way up their sides 
  rioted the inevitable tropical verdure of Pellucidar. Only 
  where no root could find a foothold was there no growth. 
  One peculiar feature of these cones attracted von Horst's 
  attention; there was an opening in the top of many of 
  them, giving them the appearance of miniature extinct 
  volcanoes. They ranged in size from a hundred feet to 
  15 
  
   
  several hundred in height. As he was contemplating 
  them, his captor commenced to circle directly above one 
  of the larger cones; then it dropped rapidly directly into 
  the yawning crater, alighting on the floor in the shaft of 
  light from the sun hanging perpetually at zenith. 
  As the creature dragged him from its pouch, von Horst 
  could, at first, see little of the interior of the crater; but 
  as his eyes quickly became accustomed to the surround-
  ing gloom he saw what appeared to be the dead bodies 
  of many animals and men laid in a great circle around 
  the periphery of the hollow cone, their heads outward 
  from the center. The circle was not entirely completed, 
  there being a single gap of several yards. Between the 
  heads of the bodies and the wall of the cone was stacked 
  a quantity of ivory colored spheres about two feet in 
  diameter. 
  These things von Horst observed in a brief glance; 
  then he was interrupted by being lifted into the air. The 
  creature raised him, faced out, until his head was about 
  on a level with its own; then the man felt a sharp, 
  sickening pain in the back of his neck at the base of the 
  brain. There was just an instant of pain and momentary 
  nausea; then a sudden fading of all feeling. It was as 
  though he had died from the neck down. Now he was 
  aware of being carried toward the wall of the cone and 
  of being deposited upon the floor. He could still see; 
  and when he tried to turn his head, he found that he 
  could do so. He watched the creature that had brought 
  him here leap into the air, spread its wings, and flap 
  dismally away through the mouth of the crater. 
  16 
  
  II 
  THE PIT OF HORROR 
  As VON HORST, lying there in that gloomy cavern of 
  death, contemplated his situation, he wished that he had 
  died when he had had the opportunity and the power 
  for self-destruction. Now he was helpless. The horror of 
  his situation grew on him until he feared that he should 
  go mad. He tried to move a hand, but it was as though 
  he had no hands. He could not feel them, nor any other 
  part of his body below his neck. He seemed just a head 
  lying in the dirt, conscious but helpless. He rolled his 
  head to one side. He had been placed at the end of the 
  row of bodies at one side of the gap that had been left 
  in the circle. Across the gap from him lay the body of a 
  man. He turned his head in the other direction and saw 
  that he was lying close to the body of another man; then 
  his attention was attracted by, a cracking and pounding 
  in the opposite direction. Again he rolled his head so 
  that he could see what lived in this hall of the dead. 
  His eyes were attracted to one of the ivory colored 
  spheres that lay almost directly behind the body at the 
  far side of the gap. The sphere was jerking to and fro. 
  The sounds seemed to be coming from its interior. They 
  became louder, more insistent. The sphere bobbed and 
  rolled about; then a crack appeared in it, a jagged hole 
  was torn in its surface, and a head protruded. It was a 
  miniature of the hideous head of the creature that had 
  brought him here. Now the mystery of the spheres was 
  solved—they were the eggs of the great marsupial reptile; 
  but what of the bodies? 
  Von Horst, fascinated, watched the terrible little crea- 
  17 
  
   
  ture burst its way from its egg. At last, successful, it 
  rolled out upon the floor of the crater, where it lay inert 
  for some time, as though resting after its exertions. Then 
  it commenced to move its limbs, tenatively trying them. 
  Presently it rose to its four feet; then it sat upright upon 
  its tail and spread its wings. It flapped them at first 
  weakly, then vigorously for a moment. This done, it fell 
  upon its discarded shell and devoured it. The shell gone, 
  it turned without hesitation toward the body of the man 
  at the far side of the gap. As it approached it, von Horst 
  was horrified to see the head turn toward the creature, 
  the eyes wide with terror. With a hissing roar the foul 
  little creature leaped upon the body, and simultaneously 
  a piercing scream of terror burst from the lips of the man 
  von Horst had thought was dead. The horror-filled eyes, 
  the contorted muscles of the face reflected the mad 
  efforts of the brain to direct the paralyzed nerve centers, 
  to force them to react to the will to escape. So obvious 
  was the effort to burst the invisible bonds that held him 
  that it seemed inevitable that he must succeed, but the 
  paralysis was too complete to be overcome. 
  The hideous fledgling fell upon the body and com-
  menced to devour it; and though the victim may have 
  felt no pain, his screams and groans continued to rever-
  berate within the hollow cone of horror until, presently, 
  the other creatures awaiting, doubtless, a similar fate 
  raised their voices in a blood-curdling cacophony of 
  terror. Now, for the first time, von Horst realized that all 
  of these creatures were alive, paralyzed as he was. He 
  closed his eyes to shut out the gruesome sight, but he 
  could not close his ears to the abominable, soul-searing 
  din. 
  Presently he turned his head away from the feeding 
  reptile, toward the man lying upon his right, and opened 
  his eyes. He saw that the man had not joined in the 
  18 
  
   
  frightful chorus and that he was regarding him through 
  steady, appraising eyes. He was a young man with a 
  shock of coal-black hair, fine eyes, and regular features. 
  He had an air about him, an air of strength and quiet 
  dignity, that attracted von Horst; and he was favorably 
  impressed, too, because the man had not succumbed to 
  the hysteria of terror that had seized the other inmates of 
  the chamber. The young lieutenant smiled at him and 
  nodded. For an instant a faint expression of surprise 
  tinged the other's countenance; then he, too, smiled. He 
  spoke then, addressing von Horst in a language that was 
  not understandable to the European. 
  "I'm sorry," said von Horst, "but I cannot understand 
  you." Then it was the other's turn to shake his head in 
  denial of comprehension. 
  Neither could understand the speech of the other; but 
  they had smiled at one another, and they had a common 
  bond in their expectancy of a common fate. Von Horst 
  felt that he was no longer so much alone, almost that he 
  had found a friend. It made a great difference, that 
  slender contact of fellowship, even in the hopelessness of 
  his situation. By comparison with what he had felt 
  previously he was almost contented. 
  The next time he looked in the direction of the newly 
  hatched reptile the body of its victim had been entirely 
  devoured; there was not even a bone left, and with dis-
  tended stomach the thing crawled into the round patch 
  of brilliant sunlight beneath the crater opening and 
  curled up for sleep. 
  The victims had relapsed into silence and again lay as 
  though dead. Time passed; but how much time, von 
  Horst could not even guess. He felt neither hunger nor 
  thirst, a fact which he attributed to his paralysis; but 
  occasionally he slept. Once he was awakened by the 
  flapping of wings, and looked up to see the foul fledgling 
  19 
  
   
  fly through the crater opening from the nest of horror 
  in which it had been hatched. 
  After awhile the adult came with another victim, an 
  antelope; and then von Horst saw how he and the other 
  creatures had been paralyzed. Holding the antelope 
  level with its great mouth, the reptile pierced the neck 
  at the base of the brain with the needle-sharp point of 
  its tongue; then it deposited the helpless creature at von 
  Horst's left, 
  In this timeless void of living death there was no 
  means of determining if there was any regularity of 
  recurring events. Fledglings emerged from their shells, 
  ate them, devoured their prey (always at the far edge of 
  the gap to von Horst's left), slept in the sunlight, and 
  flew away, apparently never to return; the adult came 
  with new victims, paralyzed them, laid them at the edge 
  of the gap nearest von Horst, and departed. The gap crept 
  steadily around to the left; and as it crept, von Horst 
  realized that his inevitable doom was creeping that much 
  nearer. 
  He and the man at his right occasionally exchanged 
  smiles, and sometimes each spoke in his own tongue. Just 
  the sound of their voices expressing thoughts that the 
  other could not understand was friendly and comforting. 
  Von Horst wished that they might converse; how many 
  eternities of loneliness it would have relieved! The same 
  thought must often have been in the mind of the other, 
  and it was he who first sought to express it and to over-
  come the obstacle that separated them from full enjoy-
  ment of their forced companionship. Once, when von 
  Horst turned his eyes toward him, he said, "Dangar," 
  and tried to indicate himself by bending his eyes toward 
  himself and inclining his chin toward his chest. He 
  repeated this several times. 
  Finally von Horst thought that he grasped his meaning. 
  20 
  
   
  "Dangar?" he asked, and nodded toward the other. 
  The man smiled and nodded and then spoke a word 
  that was evidently an affirmative in his language. Then 
  von Horst pronounced his own name several times, in-
  dicating himself in the same way that Dangar had. This 
  was the beginning. After that it became a game of intense 
  and absorbing interest. They did nothing else, and nei-
  ther seemed to tire. Occasionally they slept; but now, in-
  stead of sleeping when the mood happened to seize 
  one of them, each waited until the other wished to sleep; 
  thus they could spend all their waking hours in the new 
  and fascinating occupation of learning how to exchange 
  thoughts. 
  Dangar was teaching von Horst his language; and 
  since the latter had already mastered four or five lan-
  guages of the outer crust, his aptitude for learning an-
  other was greatly increased, even though there was no 
  similarity between it and any of the others that he had 
  acquired. 
  Under ordinary circumstances the procedure would 
  have been slow or seemingly hopeless; but with the com-
  pelling incentive of companionship and the absence of 
  disturbing elements, other than when a fledgling hatched 
  and fed, they progressed with amazing rapidity; or so it 
  seemed to von Horst until he realized that in this timeless 
  world weeks, months, or even years of outer terrestrial 
  time might have elapsed since his incarceration. 
  At last the time arrived when he and Dangar could 
  carry on a conversation with comparative ease and 
  fluency, but as they had progressed so had the fateful 
  gap of doom crept around the circle of the living dead 
  closer and closer to them. Dangar would go first; then 
  von Horst. 
  The latter dreaded the former event even more than he 
  did the latter, for with Dangar gone he would be alone 
  21 
  
   
  again with nothing to occupy his time or mind but the 
  inevitable fate that awaited him as he listened for the 
  cracking of the shell that would release death in its 
  most horrible form upon him. 
  At last there were only three victims between Dangar 
  and the gap. It would not be long now. 
  "I shall be sorry to leave you," said the Pellucidarian. 
  "I shall not be alone long," von Horst reminded him. 
  "No. Well, it is better to die than to remain here far 
  from one's own country. I wish that we might have lived; 
  then I could have taken you back to the land of Sari. It 
  is a beautiful land of hills and trees and fertile valleys; 
  there is much game there, and not far away is the great 
  Lural Az. I have been there to the island of Anoroc, 
  where Ja is king. 
  "You would like Sari. The girls are very beautiful. 
  There is one there waiting for me now, but I shall never 
  return to her. She will grieve; but—" (he sighed) "—she 
  will get over it, and another will take her for his mate." 
  "I should like to go to Sari," said von Horst. Suddenly 
  his eyes widened in surprise. "Dangar! Dangar!" he ex-
  claimed. 
  "What is it?" demanded the Pellucidarian. "What has 
  happened?" 
  "I can feel my fingers! I can move them!" cried von 
  Horst. "And my toes, too." 
  "It does not seem possible, Von," exclaimed Dangar 
  incredulously. 
  "But it is; it is! Just a little, but I can move them." 
  "How do you explain it? I cannot feel anything below 
  my neck." 
  "The effects of the poison must be wearing off. Perhaps 
  the paralysis will leave me entirely." 
  Dangar shook his head. "Since I have been here I have 
  never seen it leave a victim that the Trodon stung with its 
  22 
  
   
  poison tongue. And what if it does? Will you be any bet-
  ter off?" 
  "I think I shall," replied von Horst slowly. "I have had 
  much leisure in which to dream and plan and imagine 
  situations since I have been imprisoned here. I have often 
  dreamed of being released from this paralysis and what 
  I should do in the event that I were. I have it all planned 
  out." 
  "There are only three between you and death," Dangar 
  reminded him. 
  "Yes, I know that. All depends upon how quickly re-
  lease conies." 
  "I wish you luck, Von, even though, if it comes to you, 
  I shall not be here to know—there are only two between 
  me and the end. The gap is creeping closer." 
  From that moment von Horst concentrated all his 
  faculties upon overcoming the paralysis. He felt the glow 
  of life creep gradually up his limbs, yet still he could 
  move only his extremities, and these but slightly. 
  Another Trodon hatched, leaving but one between 
  Dangar and death; and after Dangar, it would be his 
  turn. As the horrid creature awoke from its sleep in the 
  sunlight and winged away through the opening in the 
  peak of the cone, von Horst succeeded in moving his 
  hands and flexing his wrists; his feet, too, were free now; 
  but oh, how slow, how hideously slow were his powers 
  returning. Could Fate be so cruel as to hold out this 
  great hope and then snatch it from him at the moment 
  of fruition? Cold sweat broke out upon him as he 
  weighed his chances—the odds were so terribly against 
  him. 
  If only he could measure time that he might know the 
  intervals of the hatching of the eggs and thus gain an 
  approximate idea of the time that remained to him. He 
  was quite certain that the eggs must hatch at reasonably 
  23 
  
   
  regular intervals, though he could not actually know. He 
  wore a wrist watch; but it had long since stopped, nor 
  could he have consulted it in any event, since he could 
  not raise his arm. 
  Slowly the paralysis disappeared as far as his knees and 
  elbows. He could bend these now, and below them his 
  limbs felt perfectly normal. He knew that if sufficient 
  time were vouchsafed him he would eventually be in full 
  command of all his muscles once again. 
  As he strained to break the invisible bonds that held 
  him another egg broke, and shortly thereafter Dangar 
  lay with no creature at his right—he would be next. 
  "And after you, Dangar, come I. I think I shall be free 
  before that, but I wished to save you." 
  "Thank you, my friend," replied the Pellucidarian, 
  "but I am resigned to death. I prefer it to living on as I 
  now am—a head attached to a dead body." 
  "You wouldn't have to live like that for long, I'm sure," 
  said von Horst. "My own experience convinces me that 
  eventually the effects of the poison must wear off. Or-
  dinarily there is enough to keep the victim paralyzed 
  long beyond the time that he would be required to serve 
  as food for the fledglings. If I could only free myself, I 
  could save you, I am sure." 
  "Let us talk of other things," said Dangar. "I would not 
  be a living dead man, and to entertain other hopes can 
  serve but to tantalize and to make the inevitable end 
  more bitter." 
  "As you will," said von Horst, with a shrug, "but you 
  can't keep me from thinking and trying." 
  And so they talked of Sari and the land of Amoz, from 
  whence Dian the Beautiful had come, and The Land of 
  Awful Shadow, and the Unfriendly Islands in the Sojar 
  Az; for von Horst saw that it pleased Dangar to recall 
  these, to him, pleasant places; though when the Sarian 
  24 
  
   
  described the savage beasts and wild men that roamed 
  them, von Horst felt that as places of residence they left 
  much to be desired. 
  As they talked, von Horst discovered that he could 
  move his shoulders and his hips. A pleasant glow of life 
  suffused his entire body. He was about to break the 
  news to Dangar when the fateful sound of breaking shell 
  came simultaneously to the ears of both men. 
  "Good-bye, my friend," said Dangar. "We of Pelluci-
  dar make few friends outside our own tribes. All other 
  men are enemies to kill or be killed. I am glad to call you 
  friend. See, the end comes!" 
  Already the newly hatched Trodon had gobbled its 
  own shell and was eyeing Dangar. In a moment it would 
  rush upon him. Von Horst struggled to rise, but some-
  thing seemed to hold him yet. Then, with gaping jaws, 
  the reptile started toward its prey. 
  Ill 
  THE ONLY HOPE 
  ONCE AGAIN von Horst struggled to rise; again he sank 
  back defeated. Perspiration stood out in cold beads over 
  his entire body. He wanted to curse and scream, but he 
  remained silent. Silent, too, was Dangar. He did not cry 
  out as had the others when death crept upon them. It was 
  creeping upon him now—closer and closer. Von Horst 
  raised himself to his left elbow; then he sank back, but 
  as he did so he tried to reach for the gun at his hip—the 
  gun he had tried unsuccessfully to reach before. This 
  time he succeeded. His fingers closed upon the grip. 
  He dragged the gun from its holster. Again he partially 
  25 
  
   
  raised himself upon an elbow. 
  The Trodon was almost upon Dangar when von Horst 
  fired. Voicing a piercing scream, it leaped high in air, 
  fluttered its wings futilely for an instant, and then fell 
  heavily to the floor of the pit—dead. 
  Dangar looked at von Horst in amazement and in 
  gratitude. "You have done it," he said; "and I thank 
  you, but what good will it do. How can we ever escape 
  from this pit? Even if there were a way I could not take 
  advantage of it—I who cannot move even a finger." 
  "That remains to be seen," replied von Horst. "When 
  the paralysis has left you we shall find a way for that 
  even as I have for this. But a moment since what would 
  you have given for your chance of escaping the Trodon? 
  Nothing, absolutely nothing; yet you are alive and the 
  Trodon is dead. Who are you to say that the impossible 
  cannot be accomplished?" 
  "You are right," replied Dangar. "I shall never doubt 
  you again." 
  "Now to gain time," exclaimed von Horst. He picked 
  up Dangar, then, and carried him across the gap and 
  laid him down beside the last victim that the adult 
  Trodon had brought in. As he lay down beside him, he 
  remarked, "The next one to hatch will get neither of us, 
  for it will go to the other side of the gap." 
  "But what about the old one when it brings in the 
  next victim?" asked Dangar. "Won't it see that our posi-
  tions have been changed? And there is the body of one 
  of its young, too; what do you suppose it will do about 
  that?" 
  "I doubt that the Trodon will notice us at all," replied 
  von Horst, "but if it does, I shall be ready for it. I still 
  have my pistol and plenty of ammunition; and as for the 
  dead chicken, I'll dispose of that immediately. I think 
  we can use it." 
  26 
  
   
  He rose then and dragged the carcass to one side of the 
  pit, hiding it behind several eggs. Then he examined it 
  closely, feeling of its skin. Apparently satisfied, he drew 
  his hunting knife and fell to work to remove the skin 
  from the carcass. 
  He worked rapidly but carefully, his whole attention 
  rivetted upon his task, so that it came somewhat in the 
  nature of a surprise when the sunlight beating in through 
  the mouth of the crater was momentarily disturbed. 
  Glancing up, he saw the Trodon returning with an-
  other victim; and instantly he flattened himself prone 
  against the wall of the pit behind some eggs that he had 
  arranged for this purpose, at the same time drawing his 
  pistol. 
  Just the top of his head and his eyes protruded above 
  one of the eggs, these and the cold, black muzzle of his 
  weapon, as he watched the unsuspecting reptile deposit 
  its victim beside Dangar. As he had anticipated, the 
  creature paid no attention to the Pellucidarian; and a 
  moment later it had vanished through the opening in 
  search of other prey. 
  Without further interruption, von Horst completed 
  the skinning of the fledgling; then he dragged the body to 
  the spot that Dangar had previously occupied. 
  The Sarian laughed. "A clever way to dispose of the 
  carcass," he said, "if it works." 
  "I think it will," replied von Horst. "These brainless 
  little devils are guided by instinct at first. They always 
  go to the same spot for their first meal, and I'll wager 
  they'll eat anything they find there." 
  "But what are you going to do with the skin?" 
  "Wait and see. It constitutes the most important part 
  of my plan for escape. I'll admit that it's a rather hare-
  brained scheme; but it's the only one that I have been 
  able to formulate, and it has some chance for success. 
  27 
  
   
  Now I must go back and get busy at it again." 
  Von Horst returned to his work; and now he cut the 
  skin into a continuous strip, starting from the outside. It 
  took him a long time, and when he had completed the 
  work it was necessary to trim the rough edges of the 
  outside cut and scrape the inside surface of the long, 
  flat strap that had resulted from his labors. While von 
  Horst was measuring the strap by the crude tip-of-nose-
  to-tip-of-the-fingers method, his attention was attracted 
  by the hatching of another Trodon. 
  "Sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight," counted von Horst 
  as he watched the fledgling devour the shell of its egg. 
  "That's over two hundred feet. Should be more than 
  enough." 
  The other preliminaries having been gone through, the 
  Trodon approached the skinned carcass of its brother. 
  Both von Horst and Dangar watched with interest, as, 
  without an instant's hesitation, the reptile fell upon the 
  body and devoured it. 
  After it had flown away, von Horst crossed over and 
  lay down beside Dangar. "You were right," admitted the 
  latter, "it never knew the difference." 
  "I think they are so low in the scale of intelligence 
  that they are guided almost exclusively by instinct, even 
  the adults. That is why the old one did not notice that I 
  was missing and that you were in a different place. If I 
  am right, my plan will have a better chance of success. 
  "Do you feel any different, Dangar? Do you feel any 
  life returning to your limbs?" 
  The Sarian shook his head. "No," he replied, rather 
  dejectedly. "I'm afraid that will never happen, but I 
  can't understand how you recovered. That still gives me 
  hope. Can you explain it?" 
  "I don't know. I have a theory. You can see that all the 
  victims of the Trodon are thin-skinned animals. That 
  28 
  
   
  might indicate that the needle point of its tongue, by 
  means of which the poison is injected, can either break 
  only thin skin or can penetrate only to a shallow depth. 
  While I was skinning the chicken I took off my leather 
  jacket, and in examining it I discovered that the tongue 
  of the Trodon ran through two thicknesses of leather 
  and canvass lining at the back of the collar before enter-
  ing my flesh. Look; see the round, green stain encircling 
  the puncture. Perhaps some of the poison was wiped off, 
  or perhaps the sting didn't puncture me deeply enough 
  to have full effect. 
  "Anyhow, I am more than ever convinced that no 
  matter how much poison a victim receives, short of a 
  lethal dose, he will recover eventually. You unques-
  tionably received a larger dose than I, but you have been 
  here longer than I; so it may not be long now before you 
  will note signs of recovery." 
  "I am commencing to have hope," replied Dangar. 
  "Something will have to be done soon," said the other. 
  "Now that the paralysis has left me and my body is 
  functioning normally, I am commencing to feel both 
  hunger and thirst. I shall have to put my plan to the 
  test at the first opportunity before I become too weak to 
  carry through with it." 
  "Yes," said Dangar. "Get out if you can. Don't think 
  of me." 
  "I'll take you with me." 
  "But that will be impossible—even if you can get out of 
  this hole yourself, which I doubt." 
  "Nevertheless, I shall take you; or I will not go myself." 
  "No," demurred Dangar. "That would be foolish. I 
  won't permit it." 
  "How are you going to prevent it?" laughed von Horst. 
  "Leave it all to me. The plan may fail anyway. But I'm 
  going to start putting it into effect at once." 
  29 
  
   
  He crossed the pit and took his long strap of reptile 
  hide from behind the eggs where he had concealed it. 
  Then he made a running noose in one end. This he spread 
  on the floor at a point near where the adult Trodon 
  would deposit its next victim. Carefully he ran the strap 
  to his hiding place behind the eggs, left a coil there, and 
  then took the remainder to a point beneath the mouth 
  of the crater but just outside the circle of brilliant sun-
  light. Here he neatly coiled most of what remained of 
  the strap, so that it might pay out smoothly. He took 
  great pains with this. The remaining loose end he car-
  ried to his hiding place; then he settled himself com-
  fortably to wait. 
  How long he waited, of course he never knew; but it 
  seemed an eternity. Hunger and thirst assailed him, as 
  did doubts and fears of the effectiveness of his plan. He 
  tried not to sleep, for to sleep now might prove fatal; 
  but he must have dozed. 
  He awakened with a start to see the great Trodon 
  squatting in the shaft of sunlight injecting its paralyzing 
  poison into the neck of a new victim. Von Horst felt 
  suddenly very weak. It had been a close call. Another 
  moment, perhaps, and it would have been too late to 
  test his plan. He doubted that he could hold out until the 
  reptile returned again. Everything, therefore, depended 
  upon success at the first cast of the die—his life and 
  Dangar's. Quickly he gathered his nervous forces under 
  control. Again he was cool, collected. He loosened his 
  pistol in its holster and took a new grip on the strap. 
  The Trodon crossed the pit, bearing the paralyzed vic-
  tim to its place in the lethal circle. It placed one great 
  hind paw in the open noose. Von Horst sent a running 
  wave of the rope across the floor that lifted the noose 
  up the creature's leg above the ankle; then he gave a 
  quick jerk. The noose tightened a little. Was it enough? 
  30 
  
   
  Would it hold? As he had expected, the creature paid 
  no attention to the strap. It appeared not to feel it, and 
  von Horst was quite sure that it did not. So low was its 
  nervous organization, he believed, that only a sharp blow 
  on the leg would have carried any sensation to the brain. 
  After it had deposited the latest victim, the reptile 
  turned toward the center of the pit, leaped into the air 
  and fluttered aloft. Von Horst held his breath. Would the 
  noose be shaken loose? Heaven forbid. It held. Von 
  Horst leaped to his feet and ran toward the center of 
  the pit, his pistol cocked and ready in his hand; and 
  as the Trodon rose through the mouth of the crater and 
  cleared the top of the hill, the man fired three shots in 
  rapid succession. 
  He did not need the horrid screams of the wounded 
  creature to tell him that his aim had been true, for he 
  saw the great reptile careen in air and plunge from sight 
  beyond the rim of the crater; then von Horst leaped for 
  the end of the strap, seized it, braced himself, and waited. 
  There was danger that the body of the creature, tum-
  bling down the steep side of the cone-shaped hill, might 
  not come to rest before it jerked the strap from his hands; 
  so he quickly wound it around his body and hurriedly 
  made it fast. He might be killed; but he wouldn't loose 
  his strap or jeopardize this, his last chance of escape 
  from the pit. For a moment the strap played out rapidly 
  from the coil; then it stopped. Either the body of the 
  Trodon had come to rest or the noose had slipped from 
  the hind leg. Which? 
  Von Horst pulled on the strap fearfully. Soon it taut-
  ened; then he knew that it was still attached to the crea-
  ture. A vague doubt assailed him as to whether the 
  Trodon had been killed or not. He knew how tenacious 
  of life such creatures might be. Suppose it were not dead? 
  What dire possibilities such an event might entail! 
  31 
  
   
  The man tugged on the strap. It did not give. Then he 
  swung on it with all his weight. It remained as before. 
  Still, clinging to the loose end, he crossed the pit to 
  Dangar, who was gazing at him wide-eyed with astonish-
  ment. 
  "You should have been a Sarian," said Dangar with 
  admiration. 
  Von Horst smiled. "Come," he said. "Now for you." He 
  stooped and lifted the Pellucidarian from the ground and 
  carried him to the center of the pit beneath the crater 
  mouth; then he made the loose end of the strap secure 
  about his body beneath the arms. 
  "What are you going to do?" asked Dangar. 
  "Just now I am going to make the inner world a little 
  safer for thin-skinned animals," replied Von Horst. 
  He went to the side of the pit, commenced breaking 
  the eggs with the butt of his pistol. In two eggs, those 
  most closely approaching the end of the period of incuba-
  tion, he discovered quite active young. These he de-
  stroyed; then he returned to Dangar. 
  "I hate to leave these other creatures here," he said, 
  gesturing toward the unhappy victims; "but there is no 
  other way. I cannot get them all out," 
  "You'll still be lucky if you get yourself out," com-
  mented Dangar. 
  Von Horst grinned. "We'll both be lucky," he replied, 
  "but this is our lucky day." There was no word for day 
  in the language of the inner world, where there is neither 
  day nor night; so von Horst substituted a word from one 
  of the languages of the outer world. "Be patient and 
  you'll soon be out." 
  He grasped the strap and started up hand-over-hand. 
  Dangar lay on his back watching him, renewed admira-
  tion shining in his eyes. It was a long, dangerous climb; 
  but at length von Horst reached the mouth of the crater. 
  32 
  
   
  As he topped the summit and looked down, he saw the 
  carcass of the Trodon lodged on a slight ledge a short dis-
  tance beneath him. The creature was quite evidently 
  dead. That was the only interest that the man had in it; 
  so he turned at once to his next task, which was to haul 
  Dangar to the mouth of the crater. 
  Von Horst was a powerful man; but his strength had 
  already been tested to its limit, and perhaps it had been 
  partially sapped by the long period of paralysis he had 
  endured. Added to this was the precarious footing that 
  the steep edge of the crater mouth afforded; yet he never 
  for a moment lost hope of eventual success; and though 
  it was slow work, he was finally rewarded by seeing the 
  inert form of the Pellucidarian lying at the summit of 
  the hill beside him. 
  He would have been glad to rest now, but his brief 
  experience of Pellucidar warned him that this exposed 
  hilltop was no place to seek sanctuary. He must descend 
  to the bottom, where he could see a few trees and a 
  little stream of water, take Dangar with him, and search 
  for a hiding place. The hillside was very steep, but 
  fortunately it was broken by rudimentary ledges that 
  offered at least a foothold. In any event, there was no 
  other way to descend; and so von Horst lifted Dangar 
  across one of his broad shoulders and started the perilous 
  descent. Slipping and stumbling, he made his slow way 
  down the steep hillside; and constantly he kept his eyes 
  alert for danger. Occasionally he fell, but always managed 
  to catch himself before being precipitated to the bottom. 
  He was fairly spent when he finally staggered into the 
  shade of a clump of trees growing beside the little 
  stream that he had seen from the summit of the hill. 
  Laying Dangar on the sward, he slaked his thirst with 
  the clear water of the brook. It was the second time that 
  he had drunk since he had left the camp where the great 
  33 
  
   
  dirigible, O-220, had been moored. How much time had 
  elapsed he could not even guess; days it must have been, 
  perhaps weeks or even months; yet for most of that time 
  the peculiar venom of the Trodon had not only paralyzed 
  him but preserved the moisture in his body, keeping it 
  always fresh and fit for food for the unhatched fledgling 
  by which it was destined to be devoured. 
  Refreshed and strengthened, he rose and looked about. 
  He must find a place in which to make a more or less 
  permanent camp, for it was quite obvious that he could 
  not continue to carry Dangar in his wanderings. He felt 
  rather helpless, practically alone in this unknown world. 
  In what direction might he go if he were free to go? 
  How could he ever hope to locate the O-220 and his com-
  panions in a land where there were no points of compass? 
  when, even if there had been, he had only a vague idea 
  of the direction of his previous wanderings and less of 
  the route along which the Trodon had carried him? 
  As soon as the effects of the poison should have worn 
  off and Dangar was free from the bonds of paralysis, he 
  would have not only an active friend and companion but 
  one who could guide him to a country where he might be 
  assured of a friendly welcome and an opportunity to make 
  a place for himself in this savage world, where, he was 
  inclined to believe, he must spend the rest of his natural 
  life. It was by far not this consideration alone that 
  prompted him to remain with the Sarian but, rather, 
  sentiments of loyalty and friendship. 
  A careful inspection of the little grove of trees and the 
  area contiguous to it convinced him that this might be 
  as good a place as any to make a camp. There was fresh 
  water, and he had seen that game was plentiful in the 
  vicinity. Fruits and nuts grew upon several of the trees; 
  and to his question as to their edibility, Dangar assured 
  him that they were safe. 
  34 
  
   
  "You are going to stay here?" asked the Sarian. 
  "Yes, until you recover from the effects of the poison." 
  "I may never recover. What then?" 
  Von Horst shrugged. "Then I shall be here a long 
  while," he laughed. 
  "I could not expect that even of a brother," objected 
  Dangar. "You must go in search of your own people." 
  "I could not find them. If I could, I would not leave 
  you here alone and helpless." 
  "You would not have to leave me helpless." 
  "I don't understand you," said von Horst. 
  "You would kill me, of course; that would be an act of 
  mercy." 
  "Forget it," snapped von Horst. The very idea revolted 
  him. 
  "Neither one of us may forget it," insisted Dangar. 
  "After a reasonable number of sleeps, if I am not re-
  covered, you must destroy me." He used the only meas-
  sure of time that he knew—sleeps. How much time 
  elapsed between sleeps or how long each sleep endured, 
  he had no means of telling. 
  "That is for the future," replied von Horst shortly. 
  "Right now I'm interested only in the matter of making 
  camp. Have you any suggestions?" 
  "There is greatest safety in caves in cliffsides," replied 
  Dangar. "Holes in the ground are often next best; after 
  that, a platform or a shelter built among the branches 
  of a tree." 
   
  "There are no cliffs here," said von Horst, "nor do I 
  see any holes in the ground; but there are trees." 
  "You'd better start building, then," advised the Pelluci-
  darian, "for there are many flesh eaters in Pellucidar; and 
  they are always hungry." 
  With suggestions and advice from Dangar, von Horst 
  constructed a platform in one of the larger trees, using 
  35 
  
   
  reeds that resembled bamboo, which grew in places along 
  the margin of the stream. These he cut with his hunting 
  knife and lashed into place with a long, tough grass that 
  Dangar had seen growing in clumps close to the foot of 
  the hill. 
  At the latter's suggestion, he added walls and a roof as 
  further protection against the smaller arboreal carnivora, 
  birds of prey, and carnivorous flying reptiles. 
  He never knew how long it took him to complete the 
  shelter; for the work was absorbing, and time flew rap-
  idly. He ate nuts and fruit at intervals and drank several 
  times, but until the place was almost completed he felt 
  no desire to sleep. 
  It was with considerable difficulty, and not without 
  danger of falling, that he carried Dangar up the rickety 
  ladder that he had built to gain access to their primitive 
  abode; but at length he had him safely deposited on the 
  floor of the little hut; then he stretched out beside him 
  and was asleep almost instantly. 
  IV 
  SKRUF OF BASTI 
  WHEN von Horst awoke he was ravenously hungry. As he 
  raised himself to an elbow, Dangar looked at him and 
  smiled. 
  "You have had a long sleep," he said, "but you needed 
  it." 
  "Was it very long?" asked von Horst. 
  "I have slept twice while you slept once," replied 
  Dangar, "and I am now sleepy again." 
  "And I am hungry," said von Horst, "ravenously hun- 
  36 
  
   
  gry; but I am sick of nuts and fruit. I want meat; I need 
  it." 
  "I think you will find plenty of game down stream," 
  said Dangar. "I noticed a little valley not far below here 
  while you were carrying me down the hill. There were 
  many animals there." 
  Von Horst rose to his feet. "I'll go and get one." 
  "Be careful," cautioned the Pellucidarian. "You are a 
  stranger in this world. You do not know all the animals 
  that are dangerous. There are some that look quite harm-
  less but are not. The red deer and the thag will often 
  charge and toss you on their horns or trample your life 
  out, though they eat no meat. Look out for the bucks and 
  the bulls of all species and the shes when they have 
  young. Watch above, always, for birds and reptiles. It is 
  well to walk where there are trees to give you shelter from 
  these and a place into which to climb to escape the 
  others." 
  "At least I am safe from one peril," commented von 
  Horst. 
  "What is that?" asked Dangar. 
  "In Pellucidar, I shall never die of ennui." 
  "I do not know what you mean. I do not know what 
  ennui is." 
  "No Pellucidarian ever could," laughed von Horst, as 
  he quit the shelter and descended to the ground. 
  Following Dangar's suggestion, he followed the stream 
  down toward the valley that the Sarian had noticed, 
  being careful to remain as close to trees as possible and 
  keeping always on the alert for the predatory beasts, 
  birds, and reptiles that are always preying upon lesser 
  creatures. 
  He had not gone far when he came in sight of the 
  upper end of the valley and saw a splendid buck ante-
  lope standing alone as though on guard. He offered a 
  37 
  
   
  splendid shot for a rifle, but the distance was too great to 
  chance a pistol shot; so von Horst crept closer, taking 
  advantage of the cover afforded by clumps of tall grasses, 
  the bamboo-like reeds, and the trees. Cautiously he 
  wormed his way nearer and nearer to his quarry that 
  he might be sure to bring it down with the first shot. He 
  still had a full belt of cartridges, but he knew that 
  when these were gone the supply could never be re-
  plenished—every one of them must count. 
  His whole attention centered upon the buck, he neg-
  lected for the moment to be on the watch for danger. 
  Slowly he crept on until he reached a point just behind 
  some tall grasses that grew but a few paces from the still 
  unsuspecting animal. He raised his pistol to take careful 
  aim, and as he did so a shadow passed across him. It was 
  but a fleeting shadow, but in the brilliant glare of the 
  Pellucidarian sun it seemed to have substance. It was 
  almost as though a hand had been laid upon his shoulder. 
  He looked up, and as he did so he saw a hideous thing 
  diving like a bullet out of the blue apparently straight 
  for him—a mighty reptile that he subconsciously recog-
  nized as a pteranodon of the Cretaceous. With a roaring 
  hiss, as of a steam locomotive's exhaust, the thing 
  dropped at amazing speed. Mechanically, von Horst 
  raised his pistol although he knew that nothing short of a 
  miracle could stop or turn that frightful engine of de-
  struction before it reached its goal; and then he saw 
  that he was not its target. It was the buck. The antelope 
  stood for a moment as though paralyzed by terror; then it 
  sprang away—but too late. The pteranodon swooped 
  upon it, seized it in its mighty talons, and rose again into 
  the air. 
  Von Horst breathed a sigh of relief as he wiped the 
  perspiration from his forehead. "What a world!" he 
  38 
  
   
  muttered, wondering how man had survived amidst such 
  savage surroundings. 
  Farther down the little valley he now saw many 
  animals grazing. There were deer and antelope and the 
  great, shaggy bos so long extinct upon the outer crust. 
  Among them were little, horse-like creatures, no larger 
  than a fox terrier, resembling the Hyracotherium of the 
  Eocene, early progeniators of the horse, which but added 
  to the amazing confusion of birds, mammals, and reptiles 
  of various eras of the evolution of life on the outer crust. 
  The sudden attack of the pteranodon upon one of their 
  number frightened the other animals in the immediate 
  vicinity; and they were galloping off down the valley, 
  snorting, squealing, and bucking leaving von Horst to 
  contemplate the flying hoofs of many a fine dinner. There 
  was nothing to do but follow them if he would have 
  meat; and so he set off after them, keeping close to the 
  fringe of trees along the stream which wound along one 
  side of the valley. But to add to his discomfiture, those 
  that had initiated the stampede bore down upon the 
  herds grazing below them, imparting their terror to these 
  others, with the result that the latter joined them; and 
  in a short time all were out of sight. 
  Most of them kept on down the valley, disappearing 
  from the man's view where the valley turned behind the 
  hills; but he saw a few large sheep run into a canyon 
  between two nearby cones, and these he decided to 
  pursue. As he entered the canyon he saw that it narrowed 
  rapidly, evidently having been formed by the erosion of 
  water which had uncovered the broken lava rocks of a 
  previous flow. Only a narrow trail ran between some of 
  the hugh blocks, hundreds of which were scattered 
  about in the wildest confusion. 
  The sheep had been running rapidly; and as they had 
  started considerably ahead of him, he knew that they 
  39 
  
   
  must be out of earshot by now; so he made no effort to 
  hide his pursuit, but moved at a quick walk along the 
  winding trail between the rocks. He came at last to a 
  point where the trail debouched upon a wider portion of 
  the canyon, and as he was about to enter it he heard 
  plainly the sound of running feet coming toward him 
  from the upper portion of the canyon, which he could 
  not see. And then he heard a disconcerting series of 
  growls and snarls from the same direction. He had al-
  ready seen enough of Pellucidar and its bloodthirsty 
  fauna to take it for granted that practically everything 
  that had life might be considered a potential menace; 
  so he leaped quickly behind a large lava rock and waited. 
  He had scarcely concealed himself, when a man came 
  running from the upper end of the gorge. It seemed to 
  von Horst that the newcomer was as fleet as a deer. And 
  it was well for him that he was fleet, for behind him came 
  the author of the savage snarls and growls that von Horst 
  had heard—a great, dog-like beast as large and savage as 
  a leopard. As fleet as the man was, however, the beast 
  was gaming on him; and it was apparent to von Horst 
  that it would overtake its quarry and drag him down be-
  fore he had crossed the open space. 
  The fellow was armed only with a crude stone knife, 
  which he now carried in one hand, as though determined 
  to make what fight for his life he might when he could 
  no longer outdistance his pursuer; but he must have 
  realized, as did von Horst, how futile his weapon would 
  be against the powerful beast bearing down upon him. 
  There was no question in von Horst's mind as to what 
  he should do. He could not stand idly by and see a human 
  being torn to pieces by the cruel fangs of the Hyaenodon, 
  and so he stepped from behind the rock that had con-
  cealed him from both the man and the beast; and, jump-
  ing quickly to one side where he might obtain an un- 
  40 
  
   
  obstructed shot at the creature, raised his pistol, took 
  careful aim, and fired. It was not a lucky shot; it was a 
  good shot, perfect. It bored straight through the left side 
  of the brute's chest and buried itself in his heart. With 
  a howl of pain and rage, the carnivore bounded forward 
  almost to von Horst; then it crumpled at his feet, dead. 
  The man it had been pursuing, winded and almost 
  spent, came to a halt. He was wide-eyed and trembling 
  as he stood staring at von Horst in wonder and amaze-
  ment. As the latter turned toward him he backed away, 
  gripping his knife more tightly. 
  "Go away!" he growled. "I kill!" 
  He spoke the same language that Dangar had taught 
  von Horst, which, he had explained, was the common 
  language of all Pellucidar; a statement that the man 
  from the outer crust had doubted possible. 
  "You kill what?" demanded von Horst. 
  "You." 
  "Why do you wish to kill me?" 
  "So that I shall not be killed by you." 
  "Why should I kill you?" asked von Horst. "I just saved 
  your life. If I had wished you to die, I could have just 
  left you to that beast." 
  The man scratched his head. "That is so," he admitted 
  after some reflection; "but still I do not understand it. 
  I am not of your tribe; therefore there is no reason why 
  you should not wish to kill me. I have never seen a man 
  like you before. All other strangers that I have met have 
  tried to kill me. Then, too, you cover your body with 
  strange skins. You must come from a far country." 
  "I do," von Horst assured him; "but the question now 
  is, are we to be friends or enemies?" 
  Again the man ran his nails through his shock of black 
  hair meditatively. "It is very peculiar," he said. "It is 
  41 
  
   
  something that I have never before heard of. Why should 
  we be friends?" 
  "Why should we be enemies?" countered von Horst. 
  "Neither one of us has ever harmed the other. I am from 
  a very far country, a stranger in yours. Were you to come 
  to my country, you would be treated well. No one 
  would wish to kill you. You would be given shelter and 
  fed. People would be kindly toward you, just because 
  they are kindly by nature and not because you could be 
  of any service to them. Here, it is far more practical that 
  we be friends; because we are surrounded by dangerous 
  beasts, and two men can protect themselves better than 
  one. 
  "However, if you wish to be my enemy, that is up to 
  you. I may go my way, and you yours; or, if you wish to 
  try to kill me, that, too, is a matter for you to decide; 
  but do not forget how easily I killed this beast here. Just 
  as easily could I kill you." 
  "Your words are true words," said the man. "We shall 
  be friends. I am Skruf. Who are you?" 
  In his conversations with Dangar, von Horst had 
  noticed that no Pellucidarians that the other had men-
  tioned had more than one name, to which was sometimes 
  added a descriptive title such as the Hairy One, the Sly 
  One, the Killer, or the like; and as Dangar usually called 
  him von, he had come to accept this as the name he 
  would use in the inner world; so this was the name that 
  he gave to Skruf. 
  "What are you doing here?" asked the man. "This is a 
  bad country because of the Trodons." 
  "I have found it so," replied von Horst. "I was brought 
  here by a Trodon." 
  The other eyed him skeptically. "You would be dead 
  now if a Trodon had ever seized you." 
  "One did, and took me to its nest to feed its young. 
  42 
  
   
  I and another man escaped." 
  "Where is he?" 
  "Back by the river in our camp. I was hunting for food 
  when I met you. I was following some sheep up this 
  canyon. What were you doing here?" 
  "I was escaping from the Mammoth Men," replied 
  Skruf. "Some of them captured me. They were taking 
  me back to their country to make a slave of me, but I 
  escaped from them. They were pursuing me, but when 
  I reached this canyon I was safe. In places it is too nar-
  row to admit a mammoth." 
  "What are you going to do now?" 
  "Wait until I think they have given up the chase and 
  then return to my own country." 
  Von Horst suggested that Skruf come to his camp and 
  wait and that then the three of them could go together 
  as far as their trails were identical, but first he wished to 
  bag some game. Skruf offered to help him, and with the 
  latter's knowledge of the quarry it was not long before 
  they had found the sheep and von Horst had killed a 
  young buck. Skruf was greatly impressed and not a little 
  frightened by the report of the pistol and the, to him, 
  miraculous results that von Horst achieved with it. 
  After skinning the buck and dividing the weight of the 
  carcass between them, they set off for camp, which they 
  reached without serious interruption. Once a bull thag 
  charged them, but they climbed trees and waited until 
  it had gone away, and another time a sabertooth crossed 
  their path; but his belly was full, and he did not molest 
  them. Thus, through the primitive savagery of Pellucidar, 
  they made their way to the camp. 
  Dangar was delighted that von Horst had returned 
  safely, for he knew the many dangers that beset a 
  hunter in this fierce world. He was much surprised when 
  he saw Skruf; but when the circumstances were explained 
  43 
  
   
  to him he agreed to accept the other as a friend, though 
  this relationship with a stranger was as foreign to his 
  code as to Skruf s. 
  Skruf came from a land called Basti which lay in the 
  same general direction as Sari, though much closer; so it 
  was decided that they would travel together to Skruf's 
  country as soon as Dangar recovered. 
  Von Horst could not understand how these men knew 
  in what direction their countries lay when there were no 
  means of determining the points of the compass, nor 
  could they explain the phenomenon to him. They merely 
  pointed to their respective countries, and they pointed 
  in the same general direction. How far they were from 
  home neither knew; but by comparing notes, they were 
  able to assume that Sari lay very much farther away than 
  Basti. What von Horst had not yet discovered was that 
  each possessed, in common with all other inhabitants of 
  Pellucidar, a well developed homing instinct identical 
  with that of most birds and which is particularly appar-
  ent in carrier pigeons. 
  As sleeps came and went and hunting excursions were 
  made necessary to replenish their larder, Skruf grew 
  more and more impatient of the delay. He was anxious 
  to return to his own country, but he realized the greater 
  safety of numbers and especially that of the protection 
  of von Horst's miraculous weapon that killed so easily 
  at considerable distances. He often questioned Dangar 
  in an effort to ascertain if there was any change in his 
  condition, and he was never at any pains to conceal his 
  disappointment when the Sarian admitted that he still 
  had no feeling below his neck. 
  On one occasion when von Horst and Skruf had gone 
  farther afield than usual to hunt, the latter broached the 
  subject of his desire to return to his own country; and the 
  man of the outer crust learned for the first time the urge 
  44 
  
   
  that prompted the other's impatience. 
  "I have chosen my mate," explained Skruf, "but she 
  demanded the head of a tarag to prove that I am a brave 
  man and a great hunter. It was while I was hunting the 
  tarag that the Mammoth Men captured me. The girl has 
  slept many times since I went away. If I do not return 
  soon some other warrior may bring the head of a tarag 
  and place it before the entrance to her cave; then, when 
  I return, I shall have to find another who will mate with 
  me." 
  "There is nothing to prevent your returning to your 
  own country whenever you see fit," von Horst assured 
  him. 
  "Could you kill a tarag with that little thing that makes 
  such a sharp noise?" inquired Skruf. 
  "I might." Von Horst was not so certain of this; at 
  least he was not certain that he could kill one of the 
  mighty tigers quickly enough to escape death from its 
  formidable fangs and powerful talons before it suc-
  cumbed. 
  "The way we have come today," remarked Skruf, tenta-
  tively, "is in the direction of my country. Let us con-
  tinue on." 
  "And leave Dangar?" asked von Horst. 
  Skruf shrugged. "He will never recover. We cannot 
  remain with him forever. If you will come with me, you 
  can easily kill a tarag with the thing you call pistol; then 
  I will place it before the entrance to the girl's cave, and 
  she will think that I killed it. In return, I will see that 
  the tribe accepts you. They will not kill you. You may 
  live with us and be a Bastian. You can take a mate, too; 
  and there are many beautiful girls in Basti." 
  "Thanks," replied von Horst; "but I shall remain with 
  Dangar. It will not be long now before he recovers. I 
  am sure that the effects of the poison will disappear as 
  45 
  
   
  they did in my case. The reason that they have persisted 
  so much longer is that he must have received a much 
  larger dose than I." 
  "If he dies, will you come with me?" demanded Skruf. 
  Von Horst did not like the expression in the man's eyes 
  as he asked the question. He had never found Skruf as 
  companionable as Dangar. His manner was not as frank 
  and open. Now he was vaguely suspicious of his inten-
  tions and his honesty, although he realized that he had 
  nothing tangible upon which to base such a judgment 
  and might be doing the man an injustice. However, he 
  phrased his reply to Skruf s question so that he would be 
  on the safe side and not be placing a premium on 
  Dangar's life. "If he lives," he said, "we will both go 
  with you when he recovers." Then he turned back toward 
  the camp. 
  Time passed. How much, von Horst could not even 
  guess. He had attempted to measure it once, keeping his 
  watch wound and checking off the lapse of days on a 
  notched stick; but where it is always noon it is not 
  always easy to remember either to wind or consult a 
  watch. Often he found that it had run down; and then, 
  of course, he never knew how long it had been stopped 
  before he discovered that it was not running; nor, when 
  he slept, did he ever know for how long a time. So pres-
  ently he became discouraged; or, rather, he lost interest. 
  What difference did the duration of time make, anyway? 
  Had not the inhabitants of Pellucidar evidently existed 
  quite as contentedly without it as they would have with? 
  Doubtless they had been more contented. As he recalled 
  his world of the outer crust he realized that time was a 
  hard task master that had whipped him through life a 
  veritable slave to clocks, watches, bugles, and whistles. 
  Skruf often voiced his impatience to be gone, and 
  Dangar urged them not to consider him but to leave him 
  46 
  
   
  where he was if they would not kill him. And so the two 
  men slept or ate or hunted through the timeless noon of 
  the eternal Pellucidarian day; but whether it was for 
  hours or for years, von Horst could not tell. 
  He tried to accustom himself to all this and to the mo-
  tionless sun hanging forever in the exact center of the 
  hollow sphere, the interior surface of which is Pellucidar 
  and the outer, the world that we know and that he had 
  always known; but he was too new to his environment to 
  be able to accept it as did Skruf and Dangar who never 
  had known aught else. 
  And then he was suddenly awakened from a sound 
  sleep by the excited cries of Dangar. "I can move!" ex-
  claimed the Sarian. "Look! I can move my fingers." 
  The paralysis receded rapidly, and as Dangar rose un-
  steadily to his feet the three men experienced a feeling 
  of elation such as might condemned men who had just 
  received their reprieves. To von Horst it was the dawning 
  of a new day, but Dangar and Skruf knew nothing of 
  dawns. However, they were just as happy. 
  "And now," cried Skruf, "we start for Basti. Come with 
  me, and you shall be treated as my brothers. The people 
  will welcome you, and you shall live in Basti forever." 
  V 
  INTO SLAVERY 
  THE ROUTE that Skruf took from the country of the black 
  craters to the land of Basti was bewilderingly circuitous, 
  since it followed the windings of rivers along the banks 
  of which grew the trees and thickets that offered the oft 
  needed sanctuary in this world of constant menace, or led 
  through gloomy forests, or narrow, rocky gorges. Occa- 
  47 
  
   
  sionally, considerable excursions from the more direct 
  route were necessitated when periods of sleep were re-
  quired, for then it became imperative that hiding places 
  be discovered where the three might be reasonably safe 
  from attack while they slept. 
  Von Horst became so confused and bewildered during 
  the early stages of the long journey that he had not the 
  remotest conception of even the general direction in 
  which they were traveling, and often doubted Skruf's 
  ability to find his way back to his own country; but 
  neither the Bastian nor Dangar appeared to entertain 
  the slightest misgiving. 
  Game was plenty—usually far too plenty and too men-
  acing—and von Horst had no difficulty in keeping them 
  well supplied; but the steady drain upon his store of am-
  munition made him apprehensive for the future, and he 
  determined to find some means of conserving his precious 
  cartridges that he might have them for occasions of real 
  emergency when his pistol might mean a matter of life 
  and death to him. 
  His companions were, culturally, still in the stone age, 
  having no knowledge of any weapon more advanced 
  than clubs, stone knives, and stone tipped spears; so, 
  having witnessed the miraculous ease and comparative 
  safety with which von Horst brought down even large 
  beasts with his strange weapon, they were all for letting 
  him do the killing. 
  For reasons of his own, largely prompted by his sus-
  picions concerning Skruf's loyalty, von Horst did not 
  wish the others to know that his weapon would be harm-
  less when his supply of ammunition was exhausted; and 
  they were too ignorant of all matters concerning firearms 
  to deduce as much for themselves. It was necessary, 
  therefore, to find some plausible excuse for insisting that 
  their hunting be done with other weapons. 
  48 
  
   
  Skruf was armed with a knife and a spear when they 
  set out upon their journey; and as rapidly as he could 
  find the materials and fashion them, Dangar had fabri-
  cated similar weapons for himself. With his help, von 
  Horst finally achieved a spear; and shortly thereafter 
  commenced to make a bow and arrows. But long before 
  they were completed he insisted that they must kill their 
  game with the primitive weapons they possessed because 
  the report of the pistol would be certain to attract the 
  attention of enemies to them. As they were going through 
  a country in which Skruf assured them they might meet 
  hunting and raiding parties from hostile tribes, both he 
  and Dangar appreciated the wisdom of von Horst's sug-
  gestion; and thereafter the three lay in wait for their 
  prey with stone-shod spears. 
  The ease with which von Horst adapted himself to the 
  primitive life of his cave-men companions was a source 
  of no little wonder even to himself. How long a time had 
  elapsed since he left the outer crust, he could not know; 
  but he was convinced that it could not have been more 
  than a matter of months; yet in that time he had sloughed 
  practically the entire veneer of civilization that it had 
  taken generations to develop, and had slipped back per-
  haps a hundred thousand years until he stood upon a 
  common footing with men of the old stone age. He 
  hunted as they hunted, ate as they ate, and often found 
  himself thinking in terms of the stone age. 
  Gradually his apparel of the civilized outer crust had 
  given way to that of a long dead era. His boots had gone 
  first. They had been replaced by sandals of mammoth 
  hide. Little by little his outer clothing, torn and rotten, 
  fell apart until he no longer covered his nakedness; then 
  he had been forced to discard it and adopt the skin 
  loin cloth of his companions. Now, indeed, except for 
  the belt of cartridges, the hunting knife, and the pistol, 
  49 
  
   
  was he a veritable man of the Pleistocene. 
  With the completion of his bow and a quantity of ar-
  rows, he felt that he had taken a definite step forward. 
  The thought amused him. Perhaps now he was ten or 
  twenty thousand years more advanced than his fellows. 
  But he was not to remain so long. As soon as he had 
  perfected himself in the use of the new weapons, both 
  Dangar and Skruf were anxious to possess similar ones. 
  They were as delighted with them as children with new 
  toys; and soon learned to use them, Dangar, especially, 
  showing marked aptitude. Yet the pistol still intrigued 
  them. Skruf had constantly importuned von Horst to 
  permit him to fire it, but the European would not let him 
  even touch it. 
  "No one can safely handle it but myself," he explained. 
  "It might easily kill you if you did." 
  "I am not afraid of it," replied Skruf. "I have watched 
  you use it. I could do the same. Let me show you." 
  But von Horst was determined to maintain the ascend-
  ancy that his sole knowledge of the use of the pistol gave 
  him, and it was later to develop that his decision was a 
  wise one. But the best corroborating evidence of his as-
  surance to Skruf that the weapon would be dangerous 
  to anyone but von Horst was furnished by Skruf himself. 
  All during the journey Skruf kept referring to his desire 
  to take home the head of a tarag that he might win the 
  consent of his lady-love. He was constantly suggesting 
  that von Horst shoot one of the great brutes for him, 
  until it became evident to both von Horst and Dangar 
  that the fellow was terrified at the thought of attempting 
  to kill one by himself. Von Horst had no intention of 
  tempting fate by seeking an encounter with this savage 
  monster, a creature of such enormous proportions, great 
  strength, and awful ferocity that it has been known to 
  drag down and kill a bull mastodon singlehanded. 
  50 
  
   
  They had not chanced to cross the path of one of the 
  monsters; and von Horst was hopeful that they would 
  not, but the law of chance was against him. No one may 
  blame von Horst for a disinclination to pit himself against 
  this monster of a bygone age with the puny weapons 
  that he carried. Even his pistol could do little more than 
  enrage the creature. Could he reach its heart with any 
  weapon it would die eventually, but probably not 
  quickly enough to save him from a terrible mauling and 
  almost certain death. Yet, of course, there was always 
  a chance that he might conquer the great brute. 
  Then it happened, and so suddenly and unexpectedly 
  that there was no opportunity for preparation. The three 
  men were walking single file along a forest trail. Von 
  Horst was in the lead, followed by Skruf. Suddenly, 
  without warning, a tarag leaped from the underbrush 
  directly in their path not three paces from von Horst. 
  To the eyes of the European it appeared as large as a 
  buffalo, and perhaps it was. Certainly it was a mon-
  strous creature with gaping jaws and flaming eyes. 
  The instant that it struck the ground in front of the 
  men it leaped for von Horst. Skruf turned and fled, 
  knocking Dangar down in his precipitate retreat. Von 
  Horst had not even time to draw his pistol, so quickly 
  was the thing upon him. He happened to be carrying 
  his spear in his right hand with the tip forward. He 
  never knew whether the thing he did was wholly a 
  mechanical reaction or whether by intent. He dropped to 
  one knee, placed the butt of the spear on the ground 
  and pointed the head at the beast's throat; and in the 
  same instant the tarag impaled itself upon the weapon. 
  Von Horst held his ground; the shaft of the spear did not 
  break; and notwithstanding all its strength and size, the 
  beast could not quite reach the man with its talons. 
  It screamed and roared and threshed about, tearing 
  51 
  
   
  at the spear in an agony of pain and rage; and every 
  instant von Horst expected that the shaft must break 
  and let the beast fall upon him. Then Dangar ran in and, 
  braving the dangers of those clawing talons, thrust his 
  spear into the tarag's side—not once, but twice, three 
  times the sharp stone point sank into the heart and lungs 
  of the great tiger until, with a final scream, it sank life-
  less to the ground. And when it was all over, Skruf 
  descended from a tree in which he had taken refuge 
  and fell upon the carcass with his crude knife. He paid 
  no attention to either von Horst or Dangar as he hacked 
  away until he finally severed the head. Then he wove a 
  basket of long grasses and strapped the trophy to his 
  back. All this he did without even a by-your-leave, nor 
  did he thank the men who had furnished the trophy with 
  which he hoped to win a mate. 
  Both von Horst and Dangar were disgusted with him, 
  but perhaps the European was more amused than angry; 
  however, the remainder of that march was made in si-
  lence, nor did one of them refer to the subject again in 
  any way, though the stench from the rotting head waxed 
  more and more unbearable as they proceeded on their 
  way to the country of the Bastians. 
  The three men had hidden themselves away in a de-
  serted cave high in a cliffside to sleep, shortly following 
  the encounter with the tarag which had occurred after 
  Skruf had made his final appeal for a chance to show 
  what he could do with a pistol, when von Horst and 
  Dangar were awakened by a shot. As they leaped to their 
  feet, they saw Skruf toppling to the floor of the cave as 
  he hurled the pistol from him. Von Horst rushed to the 
  man's side where he lay writhing and moaning, but a 
  brief examination convinced the European that the fel-
  low was more terrified than hurt. His face was powder 
  marked, and there was a red welt across one cheek where 
  52 
  
   
  the bullet had grazed it. Otherwise, the only damage 
  done was to his nervous system; and that had received a 
  shock from which it did not soon recover. Von Horst 
  turned away and picked up his pistol. Slipping it into its 
  holster, he lay down again to sleep. "The next time it 
  will kill you, Skruf," he said. That was all. He was con-
  fident that the man had learned his lesson. For some time 
  after the incident in the cave, Skruf was taciturn and 
  surly; and on several occasions von Horst detected the 
  man eyeing him with an ugly expression on his dark 
  countenance; but eventually this mood either passed or 
  was suppressed, for as they neared Basti he grew almost 
  jovial. 
  "Well soon be there," he announced after a long sleep. 
  "You're going to see a tribe of fine people, and you're 
  going to be surprised by the reception you'll get. Basti 
  is a fine country; you'll never leave it." 
  On that march, they left the low country and the river 
  they had been following and entered low hills beyond 
  which loomed mountains of considerable height. Eventu-
  ally Skruf led them into a narrow gorge between chalk 
  cliffs. It was a winding gorge along which they could 
  see but a short distance either ahead or behind. A little 
  stream of clear water leaped and played in the sunlight 
  on its way down to some mysterious, distant sea. Waving 
  grasses grew upon thin topsoil at the summit of the cliffs; 
  and there was some growth at the edges of the stream 
  where soil, washing down from above, had lodged—some 
  flowering shrubs and a few stunted trees. 
  Skruf was in the lead. He appeared quite excited, and 
  kept repeating that they were almost at the village of 
  the Bastians. "Around the next turn," he said presently, 
  "the lookout will see us and give the alarm." 
  The prophesy proved correct, for as they turned a 
  sharp corner of the cliff upon their left, a voice boomed 
  53 
  
   
  out from above them in a warning that reverberated up 
  and down the gorge. "Some one comes!" it shouted, and 
  then to those below him, "Stop! or I kill. Who are you 
  who come to the land of the Bastians?" 
  Von Horst looked up to see a man standing upon a 
  ledge cut from the face of the chalk cliff. Beside him 
  were a number of large boulders that he could easily 
  shove off onto anyone beneath. 
  Skruf looked up at the man and replied, "We are 
  friends. I am Skruf." 
  "I know you,'' said the lookout, "but I do not know the 
  others. Who are they?" 
  "I am taking them to Frag, the chief," replied Skruf. 
  "One is Dangar, who comes from a country he calls Sari; 
  the other comes from another country very far away." 
  "Are there more than three?" asked the lookout. 
  "No," replied Skruf; "there are only three." 
  "Take them to Frug, the chief," directed the lookout. 
  The three continued along the gorge, coming at length 
  to a large, circular basin in the surrounding walls of 
  which von Horst saw many caves. Before each cave was 
  a ledge, and from one ledge to the next ladders con-
  nected the different levels. Groups of women and chil-
  dren clustered on the ledges before the mouths of the 
  caves, staring down at them questioningly, evidently 
  having been warned by the cry of the lookout. A row 
  of warriors stretched across the basin between them and 
  the cliffs where the caves lay. They, too, appeared to 
  have been expecting the party, and were ready to receive 
  them in whatever guise they appeared, whether as friends 
  or foes. 
  "I am Skruf," cried that worthy. "I wish to see Frug. 
  You all know Skruf." 
  "Skruf has been gone for many sleeps," replied one. 
  "We thought he was dead and would come no more." 
  54 
  
   
  "But I am Skruf," insisted the man. 
  "Come forward then, but first throw down your weap-
  ons." 
  They did as they were bid; but Skruf, who was in the 
  lead, did not observe that von Horst retained his pistol. 
  The three men advanced, and as they did so they were 
  completely surrounded by the warriors of Basti who were 
  now pressing forward. 
  "Yes, he is Skruf," remarked several as they drew 
  nearer; but there was no cordiality in their tones, no 
  slightest coloring of friendship. They halted presently 
  before a huge man, a hairy man. He wore a necklace of 
  the talons of bears and tigers. It was Frug. 
  "You are Skruf," he announced. "I see that you are 
  Skruf, but who are these?" 
  "They are prisoners," replied Skruf, "that I have 
  brought back to be slaves to the Basti. I have also 
  brought the head of a tarag that I killed. I shall place 
  it before the cave of the woman I would mate with. 
  Now I am a great warrior." 
  Von Horst and Dangar looked at Skruf in amazement. 
  "You have lied to us, Skruf," said the Sarian. "We trusted 
  you. You said that your people would be our friends." 
  "We are not the friends of our enemies," growled 
  Frug, "and all men who are not Bastians are our enemies." 
  "We are not enemies," said von Horst. "We have 
  hunted and slept with Skruf as friends for many sleeps. 
  Are the men of Basti all liars and cheats?" 
  "Skruf is a liar and a cheat," said Frug; "but I did not 
  promise that I would be your friend, and I am chief. 
  Skruf does not speak for Frug." 
  "Let us go our way to my country," said Dangar. "You 
  have no quarrel with me or my people." 
  Frug laughed. "I do not quarrel with slaves," he said. 
  "They work, or I kill them. Take them away and put 
  55 
  
   
  them to work," he ordered, addressing the surrounding 
  warriors. 
  Immediately several Bastians closed in on them and 
  seized them. Von Horst saw that resistance would be fu-
  tile. He might kill several of them before he emptied his 
  pistol; but they would almost certainly overpower him 
  in the end; or, more probably, run a half dozen spears 
  through him. Even though they did not, and he escaped 
  temporarily, the lookout in the gorge below would but 
  have to topple a couple of boulders from his ledge to 
  finish him as effectually. 
  "I guess we're in for it," he remarked to Dangar. 
  "Yes," replied the Sarian. "I see now what Skruf meant 
  when he said that we would be surprised by the recep-
  tion we got and that we would never leave Basti." 
  The guards hustled them to the foot of the cliff and 
  herded them up ladders to the highest ledge. Here were 
  a number of men and women working with crude stone 
  instruments chipping and scraping away at the face of 
  the chalk cliff, scooping out a new ledge and additional 
  caves. These were the slaves. A Bastian warrior squatting 
  upon his heels in the shadow of the entrance to a new 
  cave that was being excavated directed the work. Those 
  who had brought Dangar and von Horst to the ledge 
  turned them over to this man. 
  "Was it Skruf who took these men prisoners?" asked 
  the guard. "It looked like him from here, but it doesn't 
  seem possible that such a coward could have done it." 
  "He tricked them," explained the other. "He told them 
  they would be received here as friends and be well 
  treated. He brought back the head of a tarag, too; he is 
  going to put it at the entrance to the cave where the 
  slave girl, La-ja, sleeps. He asked Frug for her, and the 
  chief told him he could have her if he brought back the 
  56 
  
   
  head of a tarag. Frug thought that was a good joke— 
  the same as saying no." 
  "Men of Basti do not mate with slaves," said the guard. 
  "They have," the other reminded him; "and Frug has 
  given his word, and he will keep it—only I'd have to see 
  Skruf kill a tarag before I'd believe it." 
  "He didn't kill it," said Dangar. 
  The two men looked at him in surprise. "How do you 
  know?" asked the guard. 
  "I was there," replied Dangar, "when this man killed 
  the tarag. He killed it with a spear while Skruf climbed 
  a tree. After it was dead he came down and cut off its 
  head." 
  "That sounds like Skruf," said the warrior who had ac-
  companied them to the ledge; then the two turned their 
  attention to von Horst. 
  "So you killed a tarag with a spear?" one demanded, 
  not without signs of respect. 
  Von Horst shook his head. "Dangar and I killed it 
  together," he explained. "It was really he who killed it." 
  Then Dangar told them how von Horst had faced the 
  beast alone and impaled it on his spear. It was evident 
  during the recital that their respect for von Horst was 
  increasing. 
  "I hope that I am lucky enough to get your heart," 
  said the guard; then he found tools for them and set them 
  to work with the other slaves. 
  'What do you suppose he meant when he said that he 
  hoped he would be lucky enough to get my heart," asked 
  von Horst after the guard had left them. 
  "There are men who eat men," replied Dangar. "I 
  have heard of them." 
  57 
  
  VI 
  LA-JA 
  THE SHADOWY coolness of the cave in which von Horst 
  and Dangar were put to work was a relief from the glare 
  and heat of the sun in the open. At first the men were 
  only dimly aware of the presence of others in the cave; 
  but when their eyes became accustomed to the subdued 
  light, they saw a number of slaves chipping at the walls. 
  Some of them were on crude ladders, slowly extending 
  the cave upward. Most of the slaves were men; but there 
  were a few women among them, and one of the latter 
  was working next to von Horst. 
  A Bastian warrior who was directing the work in the 
  cave watched von Horst for a few moments; then he 
  stopped him. "Don't you know anything?" he demanded. 
  "You are doing this all wrong. Here!" He turned to the 
  woman next to the European. "You show him the way, 
  and see that he does it properly." 
  Von Horst turned toward the woman, his eyes now ac-
  customed to the subdued light of the cave. She had 
  stopped work and was looking at him. The man saw 
  that she was young and very good looking. Unlike the 
  Bastian women he had seen, she was a blond. 
  "Watch me," she said. "Do as I do. They will not ill 
  treat you if you are slow, but they will if you make a 
  poor job of what you are doing." 
  Von Horst watched her for awhile. He noted her 
  regular features, the long lashes that shaded her large, 
  intelligent eyes, the alluring contours of her cheek, her 
  neck, and her small, firm breasts. He decided that she 
  58 
  
   
  was very much better looking than his first glance had 
  suggested. 
  Suddenly she turned upon him. "If you watch my 
  hands and the tools you will learn more quickly," she 
  said. 
  Von Horst laughed. "But nothing half so pleasant," he 
  assured her. 
  "If you wish to do poor work and get beaten, that is 
  your own affair." 
  "Watch me," he invited. "See if I have not improved 
  already just from watching your profile." 
  With his stone chisel and mallet he commenced to chip 
  away at the soft chalk; then, after a moment, he turned 
  to her again. "How is that?" he demanded. 
  "Well," she admitted reluctantly, "it is better; but it 
  will have to be much better. When you have been here 
  as long as I have, you will have learned that it is best 
  to do good work." 
  "You have been here long?" he asked. 
  "For so many sleeps that I have lost count. And you?" 
  "I just came." 
  The girl smiled. "Came! You mean that you were just 
  brought." 
  Von Horst shook his head. "Like a fool, I came. Skruf 
  told us that we would be well received, that his people 
  would treat us as friends. He lied to us." 
  "Skruf!" The girl shuddered. "Skruf is a coward and a 
  liar; but it is well for me that he is a coward. Otherwise 
  he might bring the head of a tarag and place it before 
  the entrance to the cave where I sleep." 
  Von Horst opened his eyes in astonishment. "You are 
  La-ja, then?" he demanded. 
  "I am La-ja, but how did you know?" In her musical 
  tones her name was very lovely—the broad a's, the soft j, 
  and the accent on the last syllable. 
  59 
  
   
  "A guard said that Frug had told Skruf that he might 
  have you if he brought the head of a tarag. I recalled 
  the name; perhaps because it is so lovely a name." 
  She ignored the compliment. "I am still safe, then," 
  she said, "for that great coward would run from a tarag." 
  "He did," said von Horst, "but he brought the head of 
  the beast back to Basti with him." 
  The girl looked horrified and then skeptical. "You are 
  trying to tell me that Skruf killed a tarag?" she demanded. 
  "I am trying to tell you nothing of the sort. Dangar 
  and I killed it; but Skruf cut off its head and brought it 
  with him, taking the credit." 
  "He'll never have me!" exclaimed La-ja tensely. "Before 
  that, I'll destroy myself." 
  "Isn't there something else you can do? Can't you 
  refuse to accept him?" 
  "If I were not a slave, I could; but Frug has promised 
  me to him; and, being a slave, I have nothing to say in 
  the matter." 
  Von Horst suddenly felt a keen personal interest—just 
  why, it would have been difficult for him to explain. 
  Perhaps it was the man's natural reaction to the plight of 
  a defenseless girl; perhaps her great beauty had some-
  thing to do with it. But whatever the cause, he wanted 
  to help her. 
  "Isn't there any possibility of escape?" he asked. 
  "Can't we get out of here after dark? Dangar and I 
  would help you and go with you." 
  "After dark?" she asked. "After what is dark?" 
  Von Horst grinned ruefully. "I keep forgetting," he 
  said. 
  "Forgetting what?" 
  "That it is never dark here." 
  "It is dark in the caves," she said. 
  "In my country it is dark half the time. While it is 
  60 
  
   
  dark, we sleep; it is light between sleeps." 
  "How strange!" she exclaimed. "Where is your country, 
  and how can it ever be dark? The sun shines always. No 
  one ever heard of such a thing as the sun's ceasing to 
  shine." 
  "My country is very far away, in a different world. 
  We do not have the same sun that you have. Some time I 
  will try to explain it to you." 
  "I thought you were not like any man I had ever seen 
  before. What is your name?" 
  "Von," he said. 
  "Von—yes, that is a strange name, too." 
  "Stranger than Skruf or Frug?" he asked, grinning. 
  "Why, yes; there is nothing strange about those names." 
  "If you heard all of my name, that might sound strange 
  to you." 
  "Is there more than Von?" 
  "Very much more." 
  "Tell it to me." 
  "My name is Frederich Wilhelm Eric von Mendeldorf 
  und von Horst." 
  "Oh, I could never say all that. I think I like Von." 
  He wondered why he had told her that Frederich Wil-
  helm Eric von Mendeldorf und von Horst was his name. 
  Of course he had used it for so long that it seemed quite 
  natural to him; but now that he was no longer in Ger-
  many, perhaps it was senseless to continue with it. Yet 
  what difference did it make in the inner world? Von was 
  an easy name to pronounce, an easy one to remember— 
  Von he would continue to be, then. 
  Presently the girl yawned. "I am sleepy," she said. "I 
  shall go to my cave and sleep. Why do you not sleep at 
  the same time; then we shall be awake at the same time, 
  and—why, I can show you about your work." 
  "That's a good idea," he exclaimed, "but will they let 
  61 
  
   
  me sleep now? I just started to work." 
  "They let us sleep whenever we wish to, but when we 
  awaken we have to come right back to work. The women 
  sleep in a cave by themselves, and there is a Basti woman 
  to watch them and see that they get to work as soon as 
  they are awake. She is a terrible old thing." 
  "Where do I sleep?" he asked. 
  "Come, I'll show you. It is the cave next to the 
  women's." 
  She led the way out onto the ledge and along it to the 
  mouth of another cave. "Here is where the men sleep," 
  she said. "The next cave is where I sleep." 
  "What are you doing out here?" demanded a guard. 
  "We are going to sleep," replied La-ja. 
  The man nodded; and the girl went on to her cave, 
  while von Horst entered that reserved for the men slaves. 
  He found a number of them asleep on the hard floor, and 
  was soon stretched out beside Dangar, who had accom-
  panied them. 
  How long he slept, von Horst did not know. He was 
  awakened suddenly by loud shouting apparently directly 
  outside the entrance to the cave. At first he did not grasp 
  the meaning of the words he heard; but presently, after 
  a couple of repetitions, he was thoroughly awake; and 
  then he grasped their full import and recognized the 
  voice of the speaker. 
  It was Skruf; and he was shouting, over and over, 
  "Come out, La-ja! Skruf has brought you the head of a 
  tarag. Now you belong to Skruf." 
  Von Horst leaped to his feet and stepped out onto the 
  ledge. There, before the entrance to the adjoining cave, 
  lay the rotting head of the tarag; but Skruf was nowhere 
  in sight. 
  At first von Horst thought that he had entered the 
  cave in search of La-ja; but presently he realized that the 
  62 
  
   
  voice was coming from below. Looking over the edge 
  of the ledge, he saw Skruf standing on a ladder a few 
  feet below. Then he saw La-ja run from the cave, her 
  countenance a picture of tragic despair. 
  He had stepped to the head of the ladder, beside which 
  lay the tarag's head, and so was directly in front of the 
  mouth of the cave as La-ja emerged. Something about 
  her manner, her expression, frightened him. She did not 
  seem to see him as she ran past him toward the edge of 
  the cliff. Intuitively, he knew what was in her mind; 
  and as she passed him, he threw an arm about her and 
  drew her back. 
  "Not that, La-ja," he said quietly. 
  She came to herself with a start, as though from a 
  trance. Then she clung to him and commenced to sob. 
  "There is no other way," she cried. "He must not get me." 
  "He shall not," said the man; then he looked down 
  upon Skruf. "Get out of here," he said, "and take your 
  rotten head with you." With his foot, he pushed the mass 
  of corruption over the edge of the ledge so that it fell 
  full upon Skruf. For an instant it seemed that it had 
  toppled him from the ladder, but with agility of a mon-
  key he regained his hold. 
  "Go on down," directed von Horst, "and don't come 
  up here again. This girl is not for you." 
  "She belongs to me; Frug said I could have her. I'll 
  have you killed for this." The man was almost frothing 
  at the mouth, so angry was he. 
  "Go down, or I'll come down there and throw you 
  down," threatened von Horst. 
  A hand was laid on his shoulder. He swung around. 
  It was Dangar who stood beside him. "Here comes the 
  guard," he said. "You are in for it now. I am with you. 
  What shall we do?" 
  The guard was coming along the ledge, the same big 
  63 
  
   
  fellow that had received them. There were other guards 
  in the several caves that were being excavated, but so far 
  the attention of only this one seemed to have been at-
  tracted. 
  "What are you doing, slave?" he bellowed. "Get to 
  work! What you need is a little of this." He swung a club 
  in his hairy right fist. 
  "You're not going to hit me with that," said von Horst. 
  "If you come any closer, I'll kill you." 
  "Your pistol, Von," whispered Dangar. 
  "I can't waste ammunition," he replied. 
  The guard had paused. He seemed to be attempting to 
  discover just how the slave intended killing him and 
  with what. To all appearances the man was unarmed; 
  and while he was tall, he was far from being as heavy a 
  man as the guard. Finally the fellow must have con-
  cluded that von Horst's words were pure bluff, for he 
  came on again. 
  "You'll kill me, will you?" he roared; then he rushed 
  forward with club upraised. 
  He was not very fast on his feet, and his brain was 
  even slower—his reactions were pitifully retarded. So 
  when von Horst leaped forward to meet him, he was not 
  quick enough to change his method of attack in time to 
  meet the emergency. Von Horst stepped quickly to one 
  side as the fellow lunged abreast of him; then he swung 
  a terrific blow to the Bastian's chin, a blow that threw 
  him off balance on the very brink of the ledge. As he 
  tottered there, von Horst struck him again; and this 
  time he toppled out into space; and, with a scream of 
  fright, plunged down toward the bottom of the cliff a 
  hundred feet below. 
  Dangar and the girl stood there, wide-eyed in con-
  sternation. "What have you done, Von!" cried the latter. 
  "They will kill you now—and all on my account." 
  64 
  
   
  Even as she spoke, another guard emerged from one 
  of the caves farther along the ledge; and then the re-
  maining two came from the other caves in which they 
  had been directing the work of the slaves. The scream 
  of the fellow that von Horst had knocked from the ledge 
  had attracted their attention. 
  "Get behind me," von Horst directed La-ja and Dan-
  gar, "and fall back to the far end of the ledge. They can't 
  take us if they can't get behind us." 
  "They'll have us cornered then, and there will be no 
  hope for us," objected the girl. "If we go into one of 
  the caves where it is not so light and where there are 
  loose bits of rock to throw at them we may be able to 
  hold them off. But even so, what good will that do? They 
  will get us anyway, no matter what we do." 
  "Do as I tell you," snapped von Horst, "and be quick 
  about it." 
  "Who are you to give me orders?" demanded La-ja. 
  "I am the daughter of a chief." 
  Von Horst wheeled and pushed her back into Dangar's 
  arms. "Take her to the far end of the ledge," he ordered; 
  then he fell back with them, as Dangar dragged the furi-
  ous La-ja along the ledge. The guards were advancing 
  toward the three. They did not know exactly what had 
  happened, but they knew that something was wrong. 
  "Where is Julp?" demanded one. 
  "Where you will be if you don't do as I tell you," re-
  plied von Horst. 
  "What do you mean by that, slave? Where is he?" 
  "I knocked him off the ledge. Look down." 
  The three paused and peered over the edge. Below 
  them they saw the body of Julp, and now the angry 
  voices of those who had gathered about it rose to them. 
  Skruf was there. He alone could surmise what had befal-
  len Julp, and he was telling the others about it in a loud 
  65 
  
   
  tone of voice as Frug joined the group. 
  "Bring that slave down to me," Frug shouted to the 
  guards on the ledge. 
  The three started forward again to seize von Horst. 
  The man whipped his pistol from its holster. "Wait!" he 
  commanded. "If you don't wish to die, listen to me. There 
  is the ladder. Go down." 
  The three eyed the pistol, but they did not know what 
  it was. To them it was nothing more than a bit of black 
  stone. Perhaps they thought that von Horst purposed 
  throwing it at them or using it as a club. The idea made 
  them grin; so they came on, contemptuously. 
  Now, the woman who guarded the women slaves came 
  from their cave, attracted by all the commotion outside, 
  and joined the men. She was an unprepossessing slattern 
  of indeterminate age with a vicious countenance. Von 
  Horst guessed that she might be even more formidable 
  than the men, but he shrank from the necessity of shoot-
  ing down a woman. In fact, he did not wish to shoot any 
  of them—poor ignorant cave dwellers of the stone age-
  but it was their lives or his and Dangar's and La-ja's. 
  "Go back!." he cried. "Go down the ladder. I don't 
  wish to kill you." 
  For answer, the men laughed at him and came on. 
  Then von Horst fired. One of the men was directly be-
  hind the leader, and at the shot they both collapsed, 
  screaming, and rolled from the ledge. The other man and 
  the woman stopped. The report of the pistol would alone 
  have been sufficient to give them pause, so terrifying 
  was it to them; but when they saw their comrades pitch 
  from the ledge their simple minds were overwhelmed. 
  "Go down," von Horst commanded them, "before I 
  kill you, too. I shall not give you another chance." 
  The woman snarled and hesitated, but the man did not 
  wait. He had seen enough. He sprang toward the ladder 
  66 
  
   
  and hastened to descend, and a moment later the woman 
  gave up and followed him. Von Horst watched them; 
  and when they had reached the next ledge below, he 
  motioned Dangar to him. "Give me a hand with this lad-
  der," he said, and the two dragged it up to the ledge 
  on which they stood. "This will stop them for awhile," 
  he remarked. 
  "Until they bring another ladder," suggested Dangar. 
  "That will take a little time," replied von Horst, "—a 
  long time if I take a shot at them while they are doing it." 
  "Now, what are we to do next?" inquired Dangar. 
  La-ja was eyeing von Horst from beneath lowering 
  brows, her eyes twin pits of smoldering anger; but she 
  did not speak. Von Horst looked at her and was glad 
  that she did not. He saw trouble ahead in that beautiful, 
  angry face—beautiful even in anger. 
  The other slaves were now coming fearfully from the 
  caves. They looked about for the guards and saw none; 
  then they saw that the ladder had been drawn up. 
  "What has happened?" one asked. 
  "This fool has killed three guards and driven the 
  others away," snapped La-ja. "Now we must either re-
  main here and starve to death or let them come up and 
  kill us." 
  Von Horst paid no attention to them. He was looking 
  up, scanning the face of the cliff that inclined slightly 
  inward to the summit about thirty feet above him. 
  "He killed three guards and drove the others off the 
  ledge?" demanded one of the slaves, incredulously. 
  "Yes," said Dangar; "alone, he did it." 
  "He is a great warrior," said the slave, admiringly. 
  "You are right, Thorek," agreed another. "But La-ja is 
  right, too; it is death for us now no matter what happens." 
  "Death but comes a little sooner; that is all," replied 
  Thorek. "It is worth it to know that three of these eaters 
  67 
  
   
  of men have been killed. I wish that I had done it." 
  "Are you going to wait up here until you starve to 
  death or they come up and kill you?" demanded von 
  Horst. 
  "What else is there to do?" demanded a slave from 
  Amdar. 
  "There are nearly fifty of us," said von Horst. "It 
  would be better to go down and fight for our lives than 
  wait here to die of thirst or be killed like rats, if there 
  were no other way; but I think there is." 
  "Your words are the words of a man," exclaimed 
  Thorek. "I will go down with you and fight." 
  "What is the other way?" asked the man from Amdar. 
  "We have this ladder," explained von Horst, "and there 
  are other ladders in the caves. By fastening some of 
  them together we can reach the top of the cliff. We 
  could be a long way off before the Bastians could over-
  take us, for they would have to go far down the gorge 
  before they came to a place where they could climb out 
  of it." 
  "He is right," said another slave. 
  "But they might overtake us," suggested another who 
  was timid. 
  "Let them!" cried Thorek. "I am a mammoth man. 
  Should I fear to fight with my enemies? Never. All my 
  life I have fought them. It was for this that my mother 
  bore me and my father trained me." 
  "We talk too much," said von Horst. "Talk will not 
  save us. Let those who wish to, come with me; let the 
  others remain here. Fetch the other ladders. See what 
  you can find with which to fasten them together." 
  "Here comes Frug!" shouted a slave. "'He is coming 
  up with many warriors." 
  Von Horst looked down to see the hairy chief climb-
  ing upward toward the ledge; behind him came many 
  68 
  
   
  warriors. The man from the outer crust grinned, for he 
  knew that his position was impregnable. 
  "Thorek," he said, "take men into the caves to gather 
  fragments of rock, but do not throw them down upon 
  the Bastians until I give you the word." 
  "I am a mammoth man," replied Thorek, haughtily. 
  "I do not take orders from any but my chief." 
  "Right now I am your chief," snapped von Horst. "Do 
  as I tell you. If each of us tries to be chief, if no one will 
  do as I order, we may stay here until we rot." 
  "I take orders from no man who is not a better man 
  than I," insisted Thorek. 
  "What does he mean, Dangar?" asked von Horst. 
  "He means you'll have to fight him—and win—before 
  he'll obey you," explained the Sarian. 
  "Are all the rest of you fools too?" demanded von 
  Horst. "Do I have to fight each one of you before you 
  will help me to help you escape?" 
  "If you defeat Thorek, I will obey you," said the man 
  from Amdar. 
  "Very well, then," agreed von Horst. "Dangar, if any 
  of these idiots will help you, go in and get rocks to hold 
  off Frug until the matter is settled. Just try to keep them 
  from setting up another ladder to this ledge. Thorek, you 
  and I will go into one of the caves arid see who is head 
  man. If we tried to decide the matter out here, we'd 
  probably both wind up at the bottom of the cliff." 
  "All right," agreed the mammoth man. "I like your talk. 
  You will make a great chief—if you win; but you won't. 
  I am Thorek, and I am a mammoth man." 
  Von Horst was almost amused by the evidences of 
  haughty pride that these primitive people revealed. He 
  had seen it in La-ja in an exaggerated form and now, 
  again, in Thorek. Perhaps he admired them a little for it 
  —he had no patience with spineless worms—but he felt 
  69 
  
   
  that they might have mixed a little common sense with it. 
  He realized, however, that it reflected a tremendous ego, 
  such as the human race must have possessed in its earliest 
  stages to have permitted it to cope with the forces that 
  must constantly have threatened it with extinction. 
  He turned to Thorek. "Come," he said; "let's get it over, 
  so that something worth while can be done." As he spoke, 
  he entered one of the caves; and Thorek followed him. 
  "With bare hands?" asked von Horst. 
  "With bare hands," agreed the mammoth man. 
  "Come on, then." 
  Von Horst, from boyhood, had been a keen devotee 
  of all modes of defense and offense with various weapons 
  and with none at all. He had excelled as an amateur 
  boxer and wrestler. Heretofore it had availed him little 
  of practical value, other than a certain prideful satisfac-
  tion in his ability; but now it was to mean very much 
  indeed. It was to establish his position in the stone age 
  among a rugged people who admitted no superiority that 
  was not physical. 
  At his invitation, Thorek charged down upon him like 
  a wild bull. In height they were quite evenly matched, 
  but Thorek was stockier and outweighed von Horst by 
  ten or fifteen pounds. Their strength was, perhaps, about 
  equal, though the Pellucidarian looked far more powerful 
  because of his bulging muscles. It was skill that would 
  count, and Thorek had no skill. His strategy consisted in 
  overwhelming an antagonist by impetus and weight, 
  crushing him to earth, and pummeling him into insensi-
  bility. If he killed him in the process—well, that was just 
  the other fellow's tough luck. 
  But when he threw himself at von Horst, von Horst 
  was not there. He had ducked beneath the flailing arms 
  and sidestepped the heavy body; then he had landed a 
  heavy blow at Thorek's jaw that had snapped his head 
  70 
  
   
  and dazed him. But the fellow still kept his feet, turned, 
  and came lumbering in again for more; and he got it. 
  This time he went down. He tried to stagger to his feet, 
  and another blow sent him sprawling. He didn't have a 
  chance. Every time he got part way to his feet, he was 
  knocked flat again. At last he gave up and lay where 
  he had fallen. 
  "Who is chief?" demanded von Horst. 
  "You are," said Thorek. 
  VII 
  FLIGHT OF THE SLAVES 
  As VON HORST turned and ran out of the cave, Thorek 
  rose groggily to his feet and followed him. On the ledge 
  a number of the slaves were lined up with Dangar ready 
  to hurl rocks on the ascending Bastians, whom von Horst 
  saw had reached the second ledge below that was oc-
  cupied by the slaves. 
  He looked about and saw Thorek emerging from the 
  cave. "Take some men and get the ladders," von Horst 
  directed his late antagonist. 
  The other slaves looked quickly at the mammoth man 
  to see how he would accept this command. What they 
  saw astonished them. Thorek's face was already badly 
  swollen, there was a cut above one eye and his nose was 
  bleeding. His whole face and much of his body were 
  covered with blood, which made his injuries appear 
  graver than they really were. 
  Thorek turned toward the other slaves. "Some of you 
  go into each cave and bring out the ladders," he said. 
  71 
  
   
  "Let the women find thongs with which to bind them 
  together." 
  "Who is chief?" asked one of the men so addressed. 
  "He is chief," replied Thorek, pointing at von Horst. 
  "He is not my chief, and neither are you," retorted the 
  man, belligerently. 
  Von Horst was suddenly hopeless. How could he get 
  anywhere, how could he accomplish anything, with such 
  stupid egotists to contend with? Thorek, however, was 
  not at all discouraged. He suddenly leaped upon the fel-
  low; and before the man had time to gather his slow 
  wits, lifted him above his head and hurled him from the 
  cliff. Then he turned to the others. "Get the ladders," he 
  said, and as one man they set about doing his bidding. 
  Now von Horst turned his attention again to Frug and 
  the other warriors below. They offered an excellent tar-
  get; and he could easily have driven them back had he 
  cared to, but he had another plan. In low tones he issued 
  instructions to his companions, having them line up along 
  the ledge while the Bastians climbed to that directly be-
  low. In the meantime the ladders had been carried out; 
  and the women were busy lashing several of them to-
  gether, making two long ladders. 
  La-ja stood sullenly apart, glaring at von Horst, and 
  making no pretense of helping the other women with 
  their work; but the man paid no attention to her, which 
  probably added to her resentment and her wrath. Frug 
  was bellowing threats and commands from the ledge 
  below, and from the bottom of the cliff the women and 
  children were shouting encouragement to their men. 
  "Bring me the man called Von," shouted Frug, "and 
  none of the rest of you shall be punished." 
  "Come up and get him," challenged Thorek. 
  "If the men of Basti were better than old women they 
  would do something more than stand down there and 
  72 
  
   
  shout," taunted von Horst. He threw a small fragment 
  of rock that struck Frug on the shoulder. "See," he ex-
  claimed, "how easily we could drive away the old women 
  who are not strong enough to hurl their spears up here!" 
  That insult was too much for the Bastians. Instantly 
  spears began to fly; but the slaves were ready, and as 
  the weapons rose to their level they reached out and 
  seized many of them. As the others dropped back to the 
  Bastians, they were hurled again; and soon the slaves 
  were armed, as von Horst had hoped. 
  "Now, the rocks," he directed; and the slaves com-
  menced to pelt their antagonists with small missiles until 
  they took refuge in the caves on the level below. "Don't 
  let them come out," ordered von Horst. "Dangar, you 
  take five men and let every Bastian that shows his head 
  get a rock on it; the rest of you men raise the ladders." 
  When the ladders, rickety and sagging, were leaned 
  against the cliff they just topped its summit; and von 
  Horst breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the success of 
  his plan thus more nearly assured. He turned to Thorek. 
  "Take three men and go to the top of the cliff. If the way 
  is clear, tell me; and I will send up the women and the 
  rest of the men." 
  As Thorek and the three climbed aloft, the ladders 
  creaked and bent; but they held, and presently the mam-
  moth man called down that all was well. 
  "Now, the women," said von Horst; and all the women 
  but one started up the ladders. That one was La-ja. She 
  ignored the ladders as she had ignored von Horst, and 
  again the man paid no attention to her. Soon all but 
  Dangar and his five men, von Horst, and La-ja had 
  climbed safely to the cliff top. One by one, von Horst 
  sent the five up; and he and Dangar kept the Bastians 
  below confined in the caves where they might not know 
  what was going on upon the ledge above; for he knew 
  73 
  
   
  that they could bring other ladders from the caves in 
  which they were hiding and enough of them reach the 
  ledge that he and Dangar were defending to overcome 
  them easily. 
  La-ja, now, was his greatest problem. Had she been a 
  man, he would have left her; and his better judgment 
  told him that he should leave her anyway, but he could 
  not. Perhaps she was a stubborn little fool; but he real-
  ized that he could not know what strange standards of 
  pride, custom, environment, and heredity had bequeathed 
  her. How might he judge her? Her attitude might seem 
  right and proper to her, no matter how indefensible it 
  appeared to him. 
  "I wish you would go up with the others, La-ja," he 
  said. "We three may be recaptured if you don't." 
  "Go yourself, if you wish," she retorted. "La-ja will 
  remain here." 
  "Do not forget Skruf," he reminded her. 
  "Skruf will never have me. I can always die," she re-
  plied. 
  "You will not come, then?" he asked. 
  "I would rather stay with Skruf than go with you." 
  Von Horst shrugged and turned away. The girl was 
  watching him intently to see what effects her insult had 
  upon him, and she flushed with anger when he showed 
  no resentment. 
  "Give them a few more rocks, Dangar," directed von 
  Horst; "then get to the cliff top as fast as you can." 
  "And you?" asked the Sarian. 
  "I shall follow you." 
  "And leave the girl?" 
  "She refuses to come," replied von Horst. 
  Dangar shrugged. "She needs a beating," he said. 
  "I would kill any man that laid a hand on me," said 
  La-ja, belligerently. 
  74 
  
   
  "Nevertheless, you need a beating," insisted Dangar; 
  "then you would have more sense." He gathered up sev-
  eral rocks and hurled them at a head that appeared from 
  one of the caves below; then he turned and swarmed up 
  one of the ladders. 
  Von Horst walked toward the other ladder. It took him 
  close to La-ja. Suddenly he seized her. "I am going to 
  take you with me," he said. 
  "You are not," she cried, and commenced to strike 
  and kick him. 
  Without great difficulty he carried her as far as the 
  ladder; but when he tried to ascend it, she clung to it. 
  He struggled upward and gained a couple of rounds, 
  but she fought so viciously and clung so desperately that 
  he soon saw they must be overtaken if the Bastians 
  reached this ledge. 
  Already he heard their voices raised more loudly from 
  below, indicating that they had come from the caves. He 
  heard Frug directing the raising of a ladder. In a moment 
  they would be upon them. He looked down at the beau-
  tiful face of the angry girl. He could drop her and leave 
  her to the tender mercies of the Bastians. There was still 
  time for him to gain the summit of the cliff alone. But 
  there was another way, a way he shrank from; yet he saw 
  no alternative if he were to save them both. He drew 
  back a clenched fist and struck her heavily on the side of 
  the head, and instantly she went limp in his arms; then 
  he climbed upward as rapidly as he could with the dead 
  weight of the unconscious girl hampering his every move-
  ment. He had almost reached the top when he heard a 
  shout of triumph below him. Glancing downward, he 
  saw a Bastian just clambering onto the ledge upon which 
  the ladder rested. If the fellow could lay hands upon the 
  ladder he could drag them down to death or recapture. 
  Von Horst shifted the weight of the girl so that her body 
  75 
  
   
  hung balanced over his left shoulder. This freed his left 
  hand so that he could cling to the ladder as he drew his 
  pistol with his right. He had to swing out and back-
  ward to get a bead on the Bastian; and he had to do all 
  this in a fraction of the time it takes to tell it; for if the 
  first man reached the ledge, there would be another di-
  rectly behind him; and one shot would not stop them 
  both. 
  He fired just as the Bastian was about to step from the 
  ladder to the ledge. The fellow toppled backward. There 
  were yells and curses from below; and though von Horst 
  could not see what happened, he was certain that the 
  falling body had knocked others from the ladder. Once 
  again he hastened upward, and a moment later Dangar 
  and Thorek reached down and dragged him and the girl 
  to the summit of the cliff. 
  "Your luck is with you," said Thorek. "Look; they are 
  right behind you." 
  Von Horst looked down. The Bastians had raised other 
  ladders and were clambering rapidly onto the ledge be-
  low. Some of them were already climbing the ladders 
  that the slaves had raised to the cliff top. Others of the 
  slaves were standing near von Horst looking down at the 
  Bastians. "We had better run," said one. "They will soon 
  be up here." 
  "Why run?" demanded Thorek. "Are we not armed 
  even better than they? We have most of their spears." 
  "I have a better plan," said von Horst. "Wait until the 
  ladders are full." 
  He called other slaves to him then, and waited. It was 
  but a matter of seconds when the ladders were both 
  filled with climbing Bastians; then von Horst gave the 
  word, and a score of hands pushed the ladders outward 
  from the face of the cliff. Screams of terror broke from 
  the lips of the doomed Bastians as the slaves toppled the 
  76 
  
   
  ladders over backward, and a dozen bodies hurtled down 
  the face of the cliff to fall at the feet of the women and 
  children. 
  "Now," said von Horst, "let's get out of here." He 
  looked down at the girl still lying on the sward where 
  they had placed her, and he was suddenly stunned by 
  the realization that she might be dead—that the blow he 
  had struck her had killed her. He dropped to his knees 
  beside her and placed an ear over her heart. It was beat-
  ing, and beating strongly. With a sigh of relief, he lifted 
  the inanimate form to his shoulder again. 
  "Where to now?" he asked, addressing the entire gath-
  ering of escaped slaves. 
  "At first we'd better get out of the Bastian country," 
  counselled Thorek. "After that, we can plan." 
  The way led through hills and mountain gorges, and 
  finally out into a lovely valley teeming with wild life; but 
  though they often encountered fierce beasts they were 
  not attacked. 
  "There are too many of us," explained Dangar when 
  von Horst commented upon their apparent immunity. 
  "Occasionally you'll find a beast that will attack a whole 
  tribe of men, but ordinarily they are afraid of us when 
  we are in numbers." 
  Long before they reached the valley, La-ja regained 
  consciousness. "Where am I?" she demanded. "What has 
  happened?" 
  Von Horst lowered her from his shoulder and steadied 
  her until he saw that she could stand. "I brought you 
  away from Basti," he explained. "We are free now." 
  She looked at him, knitting her brows as though try-
  ing to recall a fleeting memory that eluded her. "You 
  brought me!" she said. "I said I would not come with 
  you. How did you do it?" 
  "I—er—I put you to sleep," he fumbled hesitatingly. 
  77 
  
   
  The thought that he had struck her humiliated him. 
  "Oh, I remember," she said; "you struck me." 
  "I had to," he replied. "I am very sorry, but there was 
  no other way. I could not leave you there among those 
  beasts." 
  "But you did strike me." 
  "Yes, I struck you." 
  "Why did you wish to bring me? Why did you care 
  whether or not I was left to Skruf?" 
  "Well, you see—I—but how could I leave you there?" 
  "If you think I am going to be your mate now, you are 
  mistaken," she said with emphasis. 
  Von Horst flushed. The young lady seemed to be jump-
  ing to embarrassing conclusions. She was certainly can-
  did. Perhaps that was a characteristic of the stone age. 
  "No," he replied; "after the things that you said to me 
  and did to me, I had no reason either to believe that 
  you would be my mate or that I would wish you to be." 
  "Well," she snapped, "I wouldn't be—I should prefer 
  Skruf." 
  "Thanks," said von Horst. "Now we understand one 
  another." 
  "And hereafter," said La-ja, "you can attend to your 
  own affairs and leave me alone." 
  "Certainly," he replied stiffly, "just so long as you 
  obey me." 
  "I obey no one." 
  "You'll obey me," he said determinedly, "or I'll punch 
  your head again." The words surprised him much more 
  than they seemed to surprise the girl. How could he have 
  said such a thing to a woman? Was he reverting to some 
  primordial type? Was he becoming, indeed, a man of 
  the old stone age? She walked away from him then and 
  joined the women. On her lips was a strange little mel-
  ody, such perhaps as women of the outer crust hummed 
  78 
  
   
  to the singing stars when the world was young. 
  When they reached the valley, some of the men made 
  a kill; and they all ate. Then they held a council, dis-
  cussing plans for the future. 
  Each individual wished to go his way to his own coun-
  try, and while there was safety in numbers there was 
  also danger to each in going into the country of another. 
  There were some, like Dangar, who could promise a 
  friendly reception to those who wished to accompany 
  them to their land; but there were few who dared take 
  the chance. Both von Horst and Dangar recalled the fair 
  promises of Skruf and the manner in which they had been 
  belied. 
  To von Horst, it was a strange world; but then, he real-
  ized, it might be anywhere from fifty thousand to half 
  a million years younger than the world with which he 
  was familiar, with a corresponding different philosophy 
  and code of ethics. Yet these people were quite similar 
  to types of the outer crust. They were more naive, per-
  haps; less artificial, and they certainly had fewer inhibi-
  tions; but they revealed, usually in a slightly exaggerated 
  form, all the characteristics of present day men and 
  women of a much older humanity. 
  He considered La-ja. Envisioning her frocked in the 
  latest mode, he realized that she might pass unnoticed, 
  except for her great beauty, in any capital of Europe. 
  No one would dream, to look at her, that she had stepped 
  from the Pleistocene. He was not so certain, however, 
  as to what one might think who crossed her. 
  The result of the council was a decision of each to 
  return to his own country. There were several from 
  Amdar, and they would go together. There were others 
  from Go-hal. Thorek came from Ja-ru, the country of the 
  mammoth-men; La-ja from Lo-har; Dangar, from Sari. 
  These three, with von Horst, could proceed together for 
  79 
  
   
  awhile, as their paths lay in the same general direction. 
  After the council, they sought and found a place to 
  sleep—a place of caves in cliffs. As they awoke, each in-
  dividual or each party set out in the direction of his 
  own country with only instinct as his guide. The coun-
  tries of most of them were not far distant. Sari was the 
  farthest. From what von Horst could gather, it might be 
  half way around this savage world; but what was a mat-
  ter of distance when there was no time by which to 
  measure the duration of a journey? 
  There were no good-byes. A group or an individual 
  walked out of the lives of those others with whom they 
  had suffered long imprisonment, with whom they had 
  fought and won to freedom; and there was no sign of 
  regret at parting—just the knowledge that when next 
  they met, they would meet as mortal enemies, each 
  eager to slay the other. This was true of most of them, 
  but not of all. There was a real friendship existing be-
  tween von Horst and Dangar, and something that ap-
  proached it between these two and Thorek. Where La-ja 
  stood, who might know? She was very aloof. Perhaps 
  because she was the daughter of a chief; perhaps be-
  cause she was a very beautiful young woman whose 
  pride had been hurt, or who was nursing a knowledge 
  that her woman's intuition had vouchsafed her, or be-
  cause she was by nature reserved. Whatever her reason, 
  she kept her own counsel. 
  Several sleeps after the party of slaves had broken up, 
  Thorek announced that his path now diverged from 
  theirs. "I wish that you were coming to Ja-ru with me," 
  he said to von Horst. "You should have been a mam-
  moth man; we are all great warriors. If we ever meet 
  again, let us meet as friends." 
  "That suits me," replied von Horst. "May it hold for 
  all of us." He looked at Dangar and La-ja. 
  80 
  
   
  "A Sarian may be friends with any brave warrior," 
  said the former. "I would be friends always with you." 
  "I would be friends with Thorek and Dangar," said 
  La-ja. 
  "And not with Von?" asked the Sarian. 
  "I would not be friends with Von," she replied. 
  Von Horst shrugged and smiled. "But I am your friend, 
  always, La-ja," he said. 
  "I do not wish you for a friend," she replied. "Did I 
  not say so?" 
  "I'm afraid you can't help yourself." 
  "We'll see about that," she said, enigmatically. 
  So Thorek left them, and the three continued on their 
  way. It seemed a hopeless, aimless journey to von Horst. 
  In the bottom of his consciousness, he did not believe 
  that either Dangar or La-ja had the slightest conception 
  of where they were going. He did not possess the homing 
  instinct himself, and so he could not conceive that such 
  a sense existed in man or woman. 
  When they were confronted by high mountains they 
  circled them. They followed mysterious rivers until they 
  found a ford, and then they crossed in constant danger 
  from weird reptiles that had been long extinct upon the 
  outer crust. The fords were quite bad enough; they 
  never dared swim a river. Never did they know what lay 
  ahead of them, for this country was as strange to the two 
  Pellucidarians as it was to von Horst. 
  They came through low hills to a narrow valley upon 
  the far side of which grew a dense forest, such a forest 
  as von Horst had never seen before in this world or his 
  own. Even at a distance it looked grim and forbidding. 
  As they passed down the valley, von Horst was glad that 
  their way did not lead through the forest; for he knew 
  how depressing the long gloom of a broad forest might 
  become. 
  81 
  
  Presently La-ja stopped. "Which way is your country, 
  Dangar?" she asked. 
  He pointed down the valley. "That way," he said, "un-
  til we reach the end of these high hills; then I turn to the 
  right." 
  "It is not my way," said La-ja. "Lo-har lies this way," 
  and she pointed straight toward the forest. "Now I must 
  leave you and go to my own country." 
  "The forest does not look good to me," said Dangar. 
  "Perhaps you would never get through it alive. Come to 
  Sari with Von and me. You will be well treated." 
  The girl shook her head. "I am the daughter of a 
  chief," she said. "I must return to Lo-har and bear sons, 
  for my father has none; otherwise there will be no good 
  chief to rule over my father's people after he is dead." 
  "But you cannot go alone," said von Horst. "You could 
  never come through alive. You would merely be throwing 
  away your life, and then you would never have any sons 
  at all." 
  "I must go," she insisted, "or for what purpose am I 
  the daughter of a chief?" 
  "Aren't you afraid?" asked von Horst. 
  "I am the daughter of a chief," she said, with her chin 
  in the air, defiantly; but von Horst thought that her 
  square little chin trembled. Perhaps it was just a shadow. 
  "Good-by, Dangar," she said presently, and turned 
  away from them toward the forest. She did not say good-
  bye to von Horst; she did not even look at him. 
  The man from the outer crust watched the trim, clean 
  cut figure of the girl as she made her way toward the 
  wood. He noted for the thousandth time the poise of that 
  blond head, the almost regal carriage, the soft and grace-
  ful tread of the panther. 
  The man did not know what motivated him, he could 
  not interpret the urges that seemed to possess him; some- 
  82 
  
  thing quite beyond reason, something that exhilarated 
  one as might an inspiration, prompted him. He did not 
  wish to reason it out; he wished merely to obey. He 
  turned to Dangar. "Good-by," he said. "Good-by?" 
  exclaimed Dangar. "Where are you going?" "I am going 
  to Lo-har with La-ja," replied von Horst. 
  VIII 
  THE FOREST OF DEATH 
  DANGAB LOOKED at von Horst with surprise as the latter 
  announced that he was going with La-ja. "Why?" he 
  asked. 
  Von Horst shook his head. "I do not know," he replied. 
  "I have one excellent reason, and that is that I could not 
  see a girl go alone through this savage country, into that 
  beastly looking forest; but I know that there is some-
  thing else, much deeper, that impels me; something as 
  inexplicable and inescapable as instinct." 
  "I will come with you," said Dangar. 
  Von Horst shook his head. "No. Go on to Sari. If I 
  live, I'll follow you later." 
  "You could never find Sari." 
  "With your help, I can." 
  "How can I help you if I am not with you?" de-
  manded Dangar. 
  "You can blaze the trail. Put marks on trees. Place 
  stones upon the ground, like this, showing the direction 
  you are going." He placed some stones in a row pointing 
  in the direction they had been going, forming an arrow. 
  "Mostly you follow animal trails; so you will have only 
  to indicate the places that you branch off from the main 
  83 
  
   
  trails. If you will do these things, I can follow you. I 
  shall blaze my trail from here to wherever I go; so that 
  I can find my way back." 
  "I do not like to leave you," said Dangar. 
  "It is best," replied von Horst. "There is a girl waiting 
  for you in Sari. There is no one waiting for me anywhere. 
  We do not know how far it is to La-ja's country. We 
  might never reach it; we might never return if we did. 
  It is best that you go on to Sari," 
  "Very well," said Dangar. "I shall be expecting you 
  there. Good-by." He turned and started off down the 
  little valley. 
  Von Horst watched him for a moment, thinking of the 
  strange circumstances that had brought them together 
  across five hundred thousand years; thinking also of the 
  even more remarkable fact that they had found so much 
  in common upon which to build an enduring friendship. 
  He sighed and turned in the direction that La-ja had 
  gone. 
  The girl was half way to the forest, swinging along 
  easily with her chin up and never looking back. She 
  looked so little against the background of that mighty 
  forest, and so brave. Something very much like tears 
  momentarily dimmed the man's eyes as he watched her; 
  then he set out after her. 
  Something of what he was doing he realized, but not 
  all. He knew that it was quite likely that he was follow-
  ing the girl into an untracked wilderness from which 
  neither of them would ever emerge; and that he was cut-
  ting himself off, doubtlessly forever, from his only friend 
  in all this savage world, from the chance to go to a 
  country where he might live in comparative security 
  and make new friends—and all this for a girl who 
  shunned and snubbed him. But what he did not know 
  was that Jason Gridley would eventually decide to remain 
  84 
  
   
  in the inner world, when the rest of the expedition 
  sailed for the north polar opening and the outer crust, 
  and proceed to Sari, there to form an expedition to 
  search for him. He did not know that he was quite prob-
  ably throwing away this one chance for succor; but if he 
  had known it, there is little likelihood that it would have 
  altered his decision. 
  He overtook La-ja just at the edge of the forest. She 
  had heard his footsteps behind her and had turned to see 
  who or what was following her. She did not seem greatly 
  surprised. In fact, it seemed to von Horst that nothing 
  could surprise La-ja. 
  "What do you want?" she inquired. 
  "I am going with you to Lo-har," he replied. 
  "The warriors of Lo-har will probably kill you when 
  you get there," she prophesied cheerfully. 
  "I am going with you just the same," insisted von 
  Horst. 
  "I did not ask you to come. You had better go back 
  and go to Sari with Dangar." 
  "Listen to me, La-ja," he begged. "I cannot let you go 
  alone, knowing the dangers you may have to face—wild 
  beasts and savage men. I must go with you as long as 
  there is no one else to go; so why can't we be friends? 
  Why do you dislike me so? What have I done?" 
  "If you come with me it will have to be as though we 
  were friends—just friends—whether we are friends or 
  not," she replied, ignoring his last two queries. "Do you 
  understand that—just as friends?" 
  "I understand," he said. "Have I ever asked more of 
  you?" 
  "No." She rather snapped the word. 
  "Nor shall I. My only thought is for your safety. When 
  you are among your own people, I shall leave you." 
  85 
  
   
  "If they don't kill you before you can escape," she 
  reminded him. 
  "Why should they wish to kill me?" he demanded. 
  "You are a stranger; and we always kill strangers, so 
  that they will not kill us—or nearly always. Sometimes, 
  if we have reason to like them very much we let them 
  live; but Gaz will not like you. He will kill you if the 
  others don't." 
  "Who is Gaz? Why should he wish to kill me?" 
  "Gaz is a great warrior, a mighty hunter; single-
  handed he has killed a ryth." 
  "I am not a ryth; so I still don't see why he should wish 
  to kill me," insisted von Horst. 
  "He will not like it when he learns that we have been 
  together for so many sleeps. He is a very jealous man." 
  "What is he to you?" demanded von Horst. 
  "He hoped to mate with me before I was captured by 
  the Bastian. If he has not taken another mate, he will still 
  wish to. Gaz has a very quick temper and a very bad one. 
  He has killed many men. Often he kills them first and 
  then inquires about them later. Thus has he killed many 
  men whom he would not have killed had he taken the 
  time to discover that they had not harmed him." 
  "Do you wish to mate with him?" asked von Horst. 
  She shrugged her shapely shoulders. "I must mate with 
  some one, for I must bear sons that Lo-har may have a 
  chief when my father dies; and La-ja would mate only 
  with a mighty man. Gaz is a mighty man." 
  "I asked you if you wished to mate with him—do you 
  love him, La-ja?" 
  "I do not love any one," she replied; "and, further-
  more, it is none of your affair. You are always meddling 
  and asking questions that do not concern you. Come, if 
  you are coming with me. We cannot get to Lo-har by 
  standing still talking nonsense." 
  86 
  
   
  "You will have to lead the way," he said. "I do not 
  know where Lo-har lies." 
  They started on. "Where is your country?" she asked. 
  "Perhaps it lies beyond Lo-har in the same direction. 
  That would be fine for you, provided, of course, that you 
  got out of Lo-har alive." 
  "I do not know where my country is," he admitted. 
  She knitted her brows and looked at him in astonish-
  ment. "You mean that you could not find your way 
  home?" she demanded. 
  "Just that. I wouldn't have the faintest idea even in 
  which direction to start." 
  "How strange," she commented. "I have never heard of 
  any so stupid as that, other than the poor creatures 
  whose heads are sick. They know nothing at all. I have 
  seen a few such. They get that way from blows on the 
  head. Once a boy I knew fell out of a tree and landed on 
  his head. He was never right again. He used to think he 
  was a tarag and go roaring and growling about on his. 
  hands and knees, but one day his father got tired of 
  listening to him and killed him." 
  "Do you think I am like that boy?" asked von Horst. 
  "I have never seen you act like a tarag," she admitted; 
  "but you do have very peculiar ways, and in many things 
  you are very stupid." 
  Von Horst could not repress a smile, and the girl saw 
  him. She appeared nettled. "Do you think it anything to 
  laugh about?" she demanded. "Say, what are you doing? 
  Why do you chop at so many trees with your knife? That 
  is enough to make one think that there may be some-
  thing the matter with your head." 
  "I am marking the trail that we pass," he explained, 
  "so that I can find my way back after I leave you." 
  She seemed very interested. "Perhaps your head is not 
  87 
  
   
  so sick after all," she said. "Even my father never thought 
  of anything like that." 
  "He wouldn't have to if he can find his way about as 
  easily as you Pellucidarians can," von Horst reminded 
  her. 
  "Oh, it is not always so easy to find our way any place 
  except to our own countries," she explained. "Take us 
  anywhere in Pellucidar and we can find our way home, 
  but we might not be able to find our way back again to 
  the place we had been taken. With your method, we 
  could. I shall have to tell this to my father." 
  As they penetrated more deeply into the forest, von 
  Horst was impressed by its strangely somber and gloomy 
  atmosphere. The dense foliage of the tree tops formed 
  an unbroken roof above their heads, shutting out all 
  direct rays of the sun. The result was a perpetual twilight, 
  with a temperature considerably lower than any he had 
  experienced in the open—the two combining to retard 
  the growth of underbrush, so that the ground between 
  the boles of the trees was almost bare of anything other 
  than a carpet of dead leaves. What few plants had had 
  the hardihood to withstand these conditions were almost 
  colorless—unhealthy, grotesque appearing forms that but 
  added to the melancholy aspect of the repellent wood. 
  From the moment that they entered the forest the 
  ground rose rapidly until they were climbing a very con-
  siderable ascent; then they suddenly topped a ridge and 
  descended into a ravine, but the forest continued un-
  broken as far as they could see. 
  As La-ja crossed the ravine and started up the farther 
  ascent, von Horst asked her why she didn't try to find an 
  easier way by following the ravine down until they 
  reached the end of the hills. 
  "I am following a straight line to Lo-har," she replied. 
  "But suppose you came to a sea?" he asked. 
  88 
  
   
  "I would go around it, of course," she replied; "but 
  where I can go at all, I go in a straight line." 
  "I hope there are no Alps on our route," he remarked, 
  half aloud. 
  "I do not know what Alps are," said La-ja, "but there 
  will be plenty of other animals." 
  "There will have to be more animals than we have seen 
  since we got into this wood," remarked von Horst, "if 
  we are to eat. I haven't seen even so much as a bird." 
  "I have noticed that," replied La-ja. "I have also 
  noticed that there are no fruits or nuts, nor any other 
  edible thing. I do not like this forest. Perhaps it is the 
  Forest of Death." 
  "What is the Forest of Death?" 
  "I have heard of it. My people speak of it. It lies down 
  some distance from Lo-har. In it live a race of horrible 
  people who are not like any other people. Perhaps this 
  is it." 
  "Well, we haven't seen anything so far that could 
  harm us," von Horst reassured her. 
  They had climbed out of the ravine and were on more 
  level ground. The forest seemed even denser than it had 
  been farther back. Only a dim, diffused light relieved 
  the darkness. 
  Suddenly La-ja stopped. "What was that?" she asked 
  in a whisper. "Did you see it?" 
  "I saw something move, but I did not see what it 
  was," replied the man. "It disappeared among the trees 
  ahead of us and to the right. Is that what you saw?" 
  "Yes. It was right over there." She pointed. "I do not 
  like this forest. I do not know why, but it is as though it 
  were vile—unclean." 
  Von Horst nodded. "It is eerie. I shall be glad when 
  we are well out of it." 
  89 
  
   
  "There!" exclaimed La-ja. "There it is again. It is all 
  white. What could it be?" 
  "I don't know. I just had the briefest glimpse of it; but 
  I thought—I thought it was something almost human. It 
  is so dark in here that it is difficult to discern objects 
  clearly unless one is very close to them." 
  They walked on in silence, keeping a sharp lookout in 
  all directions; and von Horst noticed that the girl re-
  mained very close to him. Often her shoulder touched 
  his breast as though she sought the reassurance of per-
  sonal contact. He was doubly glad now that he had in-
  sisted upon coming with her. He knew that she would 
  not admit that she was frightened; and he would not 
  suggest it, but he knew that she was frightened. For 
  some inexplicable reason—inexplicable to him—he was 
  glad that she was. Perhaps it satisfied the protective 
  instinct in him. Perhaps it made her seem more feminine, 
  and von Horst liked feminine women. 
  They had gone some little distance from the point at 
  which they had seen the mysterious creature moving 
  among the trees, without seeing any other suggestion of 
  life in the forest, when they were startled by a series of 
  shrieks, mingled with which were roars and a strange 
  hissing sound. They both stopped, and La-ja pressed 
  close to von Horst. He felt her tremble ever so slightly; 
  and threw an arm about her, reassuringly. The sounds 
  were coming rapidly closer. The screams, sounding 
  strangely human, were filled with terror and despair, 
  rising to a piercing crescendo of fright. Then the author 
  of them burst into view—a naked man, his face distorted 
  by terror. And such a man! His skin was a dead white, 
  without life or beauty; and his hair was white. Two 
  great canine tusks curved downward to his chin, the 
  pink irises of his eyes surrounded blood-red pupils to 
  90 
  
   
  make an already repellent countenance still further 
  hideous. 
  Behind him, hissing and roaring, galloped a small dino-
  saur. It was not much larger than a Shetland pony; but 
  its appearance might easily have caused even the bravest 
  of men misgivings, so similar was it in everything but 
  size to the mighty Tyrannosaurus Rex, the king of the 
  tyrant reptiles of the Cretaceous. 
  At sight of La-ja and von Horst, the dinosaur veered 
  suddenly in their direction and came hissing and roaring 
  down upon them like a steam locomotive gone amuck. So 
  close was it that there was not even time to seek safety 
  behind a tree; and von Horst's reaction was the natural 
  and almost mechanical one of a man of his training. He 
  whipped his revolver from its holster and fired; then he 
  leaped quickly out of the path of the charging brute, 
  dragging La-ja with him. 
  The dinosaur, badly hit, roared with rage, nearly going 
  down. As it stumbled past him, the man fired again, 
  placing a heavy .45 slug just behind the left shoulder. 
  This time the beast fell; but knowing the remarkable life 
  tenacity of the reptilia, von Horst was not over confident 
  that all danger was past. Grasping La-ja by a hand, he 
  ran quickly to the nearest tree, behind the bole of which 
  they sought concealment. Above them and out of reach 
  were the lowest branches—a perfect sanctuary that they 
  could not gain. If the two bullets had not permanently 
  stopped the dinosaur, their principal hope lay in the 
  possibility that after it regained its feet, if it did not im-
  mediately see them it would go blundering off in the 
  wrong direction. 
  From behind the tree, von Horst watched the beast 
  pawing up the matted vegetation as it sought to regain 
  its feet. He could see that it was far from dead, although 
  badly hit. La-ja pressed close to him. He could feel her 
  91 
  
   
  heart beating against his side. It was a tense moment as 
  the dinosaur finally staggered up. For a moment it 
  swayed as though about to fall again; then it swung 
  slowly about in a circle, its muzzle raised, sniffing the air. 
  Presently it started in their direction—slowly, cautiously. 
  Its appearance now seemed far more menacing to von 
  Horst than had its mad charge. It gave the impression of 
  being a cold, calculating, efficient engine of destruction, 
  an animated instrument of revenge that would demand 
  an eye for an eye and not give up the ghost until 
  vengeance had been achieved. It was coming straight 
  toward the tree behind which they were hiding. Whether 
  it had discovered the small portion of von Horst's head 
  that was revealed beyond the edge of the bole, the man 
  did not know; but it was certainly coming toward them 
  guided either by sight or by scent. 
  It was a tense moment for von Horst. For the instant 
  he was uncertain as to what he should do. Then he de-
  cided. Leaning close to La-ja, he whispered, "The beast 
  is coming. Run for that tree behind us, keeping this tree 
  between you and the beast, so that it does not see you; 
  then keep going from one tree to another until you are 
  safely away. When it is dead I will call to you." 
  "And what will you do? Will you come with me?" 
  "I'll wait here to make sure that it dies," he replied. "I 
  can give it a few more shots if necessary." 
  She shook her head. "No." 
  "Hurry!" he urged. "It is quite close. It is looking for 
  us." 
  "I shall remain here with you," said La-ja with finality. 
  From her tone of voice he knew that there was nothing 
  more to be said. From past experience he knew his La-ja. 
  With a shrug, he gave up the argument; then he looked 
  out once more to see the dinosaur within a few paces of 
  the tree. 
  92 
  
   
  Suddenly he leaped from behind the tree and started 
  on a run across the front of the beast. He had acted so 
  quickly that La-ja was stunned to inaction by surprise. 
  But not the dinosaur. It did just what von Horst had 
  hoped and believed it would. With a bellow of rage, it 
  took after him. Thus he drew it away from the girl. This 
  accomplished, he turned and faced the brute. Standing 
  his ground, he fired rapidly from his automatic, placing 
  his bullets in the broad chest. Yet the thing came on. 
  Von Horst emptied his weapon; the dinosaur was al-
  most upon him; he saw La-ja running rapidly toward 
  him, as though in an effort to divert the charge of the 
  infuriated reptile with the comparatively puny spear 
  that she carried. He tried to leap aside from the path of 
  the charging beast, but it was too close. It rose upon its 
  hind feet and struck at his head with a taloned fore paw, 
  felling him, unconscious, to the ground. 
  IX 
  THE CHARNEL CAVES 
  VON HORST experienced a sensation of peace and well 
  being. He was vaguely aware that he was awakening 
  from a long and refreshing sleep. He did not open his 
  eyes. He was so comfortable that there seemed no reason 
  to do so, but rather to court a continuance of the carefree 
  bliss he was enjoying. 
  This passive rapture was rudely interrupted by a grow-
  ing realization that his head ached. With returning 
  consciousness his nervous system awoke to the fact that 
  he was far from comfortable. The sensation of peace and 
  well being faded as the dream it was. He opened his 
  93 
  
   
  eyes and looked up into the face of La-ja, bending 
  solicitously close above his own. His head was pillowed 
  in her lap. She was stroking his forehead with a soft 
  palm. 
  "You are all right, Von?" she whispered. "You will not 
  die?" 
  He smiled up at her, wryly. " 'O Death! Where is thy 
  sting?'" he apostrophized. 
  "It didn't sting you," La-ja assured him; "it hit you 
  with its paw." 
  Von Horst grinned. "My head feels as though it had 
  hit me with a sledge hammer. Where is it? What became 
  of it?" He turned his head painfully to one side and saw 
  the dinosaur laying motionless near them. 
  "It died just as it struck you," explained the girl. "You 
  are a very brave man, Von." 
  "You are a very brave girl," he retorted. "I saw you 
  running in to help me. You should not have done that." 
  "Could I have stood and watched you being killed 
  when you had deliberately drawn the charge of the 
  zarith upon yourself to save me?" 
  "So that is a zarith?" 
  "Yes, a baby zarith," replied the girl. "It is well for 
  us that it was not a fullgrown one, but of course one 
  would never meet a fullgrown zarith in a forest." 
  "No? Why not?" 
  "For one reason they are too big; and, then, they 
  couldn't find any food here. A fullgrown zarith is eight 
  times as long as a man is tall. It couldn't move around 
  easily among all these trees; and when it stood up on its 
  hind feet, it'd bump its head on the branches. They kill 
  thags and tandors and other large game that seldom 
  enters the forests—at least not forests like this one." 
  Von Horst whistled softly to himself as he tried to 
  visualize a reptile nearly fifty feet in length that fed on 
  94 
  
   
  the great Bos, the progenitors of modern cattle, and upon 
  the giant mammoth. "Yes," he soliloquized, "I imagine 
  it's just as well that we ran into Junior instead of papa. 
  But, say, La-ja, what became of that man-thing the 
  zarith was chasing?" 
  "He never stopped running. I saw him looking back 
  after you made the loud noise with that thing you call 
  peestol, but he did not stop. He should have come back 
  to help you, I think; though he must have thought that 
  you were sick in the head not to run. It takes a very 
  brave man not to run from a zarith." 
  "There wasn't any place to run. If there had been, I'd 
  still be running." 
  "I do not believe that," said La-ja. "Gaz would have 
  run, but not you." 
  "You like me a little better, La-ja?" he asked. He was 
  starved for friendship—for even the friendship of this 
  savage little girl of the stone age. 
  "No," said La-ja, emphatically. "I do not like you at 
  all, but I know a brave man when I see one." 
  "Why don't you like me, La-ja?" he asked a little wist-
  fully. "I like you. I like you—a lot." He hesitated. How 
  much did he like her? 
  "I don't like you because you are sick in the head, for 
  one thing; for another, you are not of my tribe; further-
  more, you try to order me around as though I belonged 
  to you." 
  "I'm sure sick in the head now," he admitted; "but that 
  doesn't effect my good disposition or my other sterling 
  qualities, and I can't help not being a member of your 
  tribe. You can't hold that against me. It was just a mis-
  take on the part of my father and mother in not having 
  been born in Pellucidar; and really you can't blame them 
  for that, especially when you consider that they never 
  even heard of the place. And, La-ja, as for ordering you 
  95     
  
   
  around; I never do it except for your own good." 
  "And I don't like the way you talk sometimes, with a 
  silent laugh behind your words. I know that you are 
  laughing at me—making fun of me because you think 
  that the world you came from is so much better than 
  Pellucidar—that its people have more brains." 
  "Don't you think that you will ever learn to like me?" 
  he asked, quite solemn now. 
  "No," she said; "you will be dead before I could have 
  time." 
  "Gaz, I suppose, will attend to that?" he inquired. 
  "Gaz, or some other of my people. Do you think you 
  could stand now?" 
  "I am very comfortable," he said. "I have never had 
  such a nice pillow." 
  She took his head, quite gently, and laid it on the 
  ground; then she stood up. "You are always laughing at 
  me with words," she said. 
  He rose to his feet. "With you, La-ja; never at you" he 
  said. 
  She looked at him steadily as though meditating his 
  words. She was attempting, he was sure, to conjure some 
  uncomplimentary double meaning from them; but she 
  made no comment. 
  "Do you think you can walk?" was all that she said. 
  "I don't feel much like dancing even a saraband," he 
  replied, "but I think I can walk all right. Come on, lead 
  the way to Lo-har and the lightsome Gaz." 
  They resumed their journey deeper into the gloomy 
  wood, speaking seldom as they toiled up the steep ascents 
  that constantly confronted them. At length they came to 
  a sheer cliff that definitely blocked their further progress 
  in a straight line. La-ja turned to the left and followed 
  along its foot. As she did not hesitate or seem in the 
  slightest doubt, von Horst asked her why she turned to 
  96 
  
   
  the left instead of to the right. "Do you know the 
  shortest way when you cannot go in a straight line?" he 
  asked. 
  "No," she admitted; "but when one does not know and 
  cannot follow one's head, then one should always turn 
  to the left and follow one's heart." 
  He nodded, comprehendingly. "Not a bad idea," he 
  said. "At least it saves one from useless speculation." He 
  glanced up the face of the cliff, casually measuring its 
  height with his eyes. He saw the same great trees of the 
  forest growing close to the edge, indicating that the 
  forest continued on beyond; and he saw something else-
  just a fleeting glimpse of something moving, but he was 
  sure that he recognized it. "We are being watched," he 
  said. 
  La-ja glanced up. "You saw something?" she asked. 
  He nodded. "It looked like our white-haired friend, or 
  another just like him." 
  "He was not our friend," remonstrated the literal La-ja. 
  "I was laughing with words, as you say," he explained. 
  "I wish that I liked you," said La-ja. 
  He looked at her in surprise. "I wish that you did, but 
  why do you wish it?" 
  "I would like to like a man who can laugh in the face 
  of danger," she replied. 
  "Well, please try; but do you really think that fellow 
  is dangerous? He didn't look very dangerous when we 
  saw him presenting the freedom of the forest to the 
  zarith." 
  She knit her brows and looked at him with a puzzled 
  expression. "Sometimes you seem quite like other peo-
  ple," she said; "and then you say something, and I 
  realize that your head is very sick." 
  Von Horst laughed aloud. "I opine that the twentieth 
  97 
  
   
  century brand of humor doesn't go so well in the Pleisto-
  cene." 
  "There you go again!" she snapped. "Even my father, 
  who is very wise, would not know what you were talking 
  about half the time." 
  As they moved along the foot of the cliff, they kept 
  constantly alert for any further sign that they were being 
  watched or followed. 
  "What makes you think that this white-haired man is 
  dangerous?" he asked. 
  "He alone might not be dangerous to us: but where 
  there is one there must be a tribe, and any tribe of 
  strange people would be dangerous to us. We are in their 
  country. They know the places where they might most 
  easily set upon us and kill us. We do not know what is 
  just beyond the range of our vision. 
  "If this is the Forest of Death, the people who dwell 
  here are dangerous because they are not as other men. I 
  have heard it said. None of my people who are living has 
  ever been here, but stories handed down from father to 
  son tell of strange things that have happened in the 
  Forest of Death. My people are brave people, but none 
  of them would go to that forest. There are things in 
  Pellucidar that warriors cannot fight with weapons. It is 
  known that there are such things in the Forest of Death. 
  If we are indeed in it, we shall never live to reach 
  Lo-har." 
  "Poor Gaz!" exclaimed von Horst. 
  "What do you mean?" 
  "I am sorry for him because he will not have the 
  pleasure of killing me or taking you for his mate." 
  She looked at him in disgust, continuing on in silence. 
  They both watched for signs of the trailers they were 
  sure were following them; but no sound broke the deathly 
  silence of the wood, nor did they see aught to confirm 
  98 
  
   
  their suspicions; so at length they decided that whatever 
  it was they had seen at the cliff top had departed and 
  would not molest them. 
  They came to the mouth of a cave in the cliff; and as 
  they had not slept for some time, von Horst suggested 
  that they go in and rest. His head still ached, and he felt 
  the need of sleep. The mouth of the cave was quite 
  small, making it necessary for von Horst to get down on 
  his hands and knees and crawl in to investigate. He 
  shoved his spear in ahead of him and felt around with 
  it to assure himself that no animal was lairing in the 
  darkness of the interior as well as to discover if the cave 
  were large enough to accommodate them. 
  Having satisfied himself on both these points, he en-
  tered the cave; and a moment later La-ja joined him. A 
  cursory exploration assured them that the cave ran back 
  some little distance into the cliff, but as they were only 
  interested in enough space wherein to sleep they lay 
  down close to the entrance. Von Horst lay with his head 
  to the opening, his spear ready to thrust at any intruder 
  that might awaken him. La-ja lay a few feet from him 
  farther back in the cave. It was very dark and quiet. A 
  gentle draft of fresh air came through the entrance dis-
  pelling the damp and musty odors which von Horst had 
  come to expect in caves. Soon they were asleep. 
  When von Horst awoke, his head no longer ached; and 
  he felt much refreshed. He turned over on his back and 
  stretched, yawning. 
  "You are awake?" asked La-ja. 
  "Yes. Are you rested?" 
  "Entirely. I just woke up." 
  "Hungry?" 
  "Yes, and thirsty, too," she admitted. 
  "Let's get started, then," he suggested. "It looks as 
  99 
  
   
  though we'd have to get out of this forest before we find 
  food." 
  "All right," she said, "but what makes it so dark out?" 
  Von Horst got to his knees and faced the entrance to 
  the cave. He could see nothing. Even the gloom of the 
  forest had been blotted out. He thought it possible that 
  he had become turned around in his sleep and was look-
  ing in the wrong direction, but no matter which way he 
  turned he was confronted always by the same impene-
  trable blackness. Then he crawled forward, feeling with 
  his hands. Where he had thought the entrance to be he 
  found the rounded surface of a large boulder. He felt 
  around its edges, discovering loose dirt. 
  "The entrance has been blocked up, La-ja," he said. 
  "But what could have done it without awakening us?" 
  she demanded. 
  "I don't know," he admitted, "but in some way the 
  mouth of the cave has been filled with a boulder and 
  loose dirt. There isn't a breath of air coming in as there 
  was when we entered." 
  He tried to push the boulder away, but he could not 
  budge it. Then he started to scrape away the loose dirt, 
  but what he scraped away was replaced by more sifting 
  in from the outside. La-ja came to his side and they 
  exerted their combined weight and strength in an effort 
  to move the boulder, but to no avail. 
  "We are penned up here like rats in a trap," said von 
  Horst in deep disgust. 
  "And with our air supply shut off we'll suffocate if we 
  don't find some way to get out." 
  "There must be another opening," said von Horst. 
  "What makes you think so?" asked the girl. 
  "Don't you recall that when we came in there was a 
  draft of air entering from the outside?" he asked. 
  "Yes, that's right; there was." 
  TOO 
  
   
  "Well, if the air came in this entrance in a draft, it 
  must have gone out some other opening; and if we can 
  find that opening, perhaps we can get out, too." 
  "Do you suppose the white-haired man and his people 
  blocked the entrance?" asked La-ja. 
  "I imagine so," replied von Horst. "It must have been 
  men of some kind; no animal could have done it so 
  quietly as not to have awakened us; and, of course, for 
  the same reason, an earthquake is out of the question." 
  "I wonder why they did it?" mused the girl. 
  "Probably an easy and safe way to kill strangers who 
  come to their country," suggested von Horst. 
  "Just let us starve to death or suffocate," said the girl 
  in disgust. "Only cowards would do that." 
  "I'll bet Gaz would never do anything like that," said 
  von Horst. 
  "Gaz? He has killed many men with his bare hands. 
  Sometimes he bites the great vein in their neck and they 
  bleed to death, and once he pushed a man's head back 
  until he broke his neck." 
  "What a nice little play fellow!" 
  "Gaz never plays. He loves to kill—that is his play." 
  "Well, if I'm going to meet him, I'll have to get out of 
  here. Let's follow the cave back and see if we can find the 
  other opening. Stay close behind me." 
  Von Horst rose slowly to gauge the height of the cave 
  and found that they could stand erect; then he groped his 
  way cautiously toward the rear, touching a wall with 
  one hand. He moved very slowly, feeling ahead with 
  each foot for solid ground before he planted it. They 
  had not gone far when von Horst felt what appeared to 
  be twigs and leaves beneath his feet. He stooped and 
  felt of them. They were dry branches with dead leaves 
  still clinging to them and long thick grasses. The floor 
  of the cave here was strewn thickly with them. 
  101 
  
   
  "Must have been a sleeping place for some animal or 
  perhaps for men," he suggested. "I wish we had a light; 
  I don't like groping along in the dark like this." 
  "I have my fire stones," said La-ja. "If we had some 
  tinder, I could light a bundle of these grasses." 
  "I'll make some," said von Horst. 
  He stooped and cleared a place on the floor, exposing 
  the bare ground; then he gathered some of the dried 
  leaves and powdered them between his palms, making a 
  little pile of the tinder on the bare ground. 
  "Come and try it, now," he said. "Here," he guided her 
  hand to the tinder. 
  La-ja knelt beside him and struck her fire stones to-
  gether close above the little a single fragment, and it 
  commenced to glow. La-ja bent low and blew gently 
  upon it. Suddenly it burst into flame. Von Horst was 
  ready with a bundle of the grasses he had gathered for 
  the purpose, and a moment later he held a blazing torch 
  in his hand. 
  In the light of the torch they looked about them. They 
  were in a large chamber formed by the widening of the 
  cave. The floor was littered with twigs and grasses among 
  which were a number of gnawed bones. Whether it was 
  the den of beasts or men, von Horst could not tell; but 
  from the presence of the bedding he judged that it was 
  the latter. Yet there was no article of cast-off clothing, no 
  broken or discarded weapon or tool that he could find, 
  no potsherds. If men had dwelt here they must have 
  been of a very low order. 
  Before their torch burned low they gathered grasses 
  and made a quantity of them, and thus supplied with 
  the assurance of light for a considerable time they con-
  tinued on through the large chamber into a narrow cor-
  ridor that wound and twisted into the heart of the 
  escarpment. Presently they came to another even larger 
  102 
  
   
  chamber. This, too, bore evidence of having been in-
  habited; but the relics here were of a grisly nature. The 
  floor was strewn with the bones and skulls of human 
  beings. A foul odor of decaying flesh permeated the air 
  of this subterranean charnel chamber. 
  "Let's get out of here," said von Horst. 
  "There are three openings beside the one we came in," 
  said La-ja. "Which one shall we take?" 
  Von Horst shook his head. "We may have to try them 
  all," he said. "Let's start with the one farthest on our 
  right. It may be as good a guess as any; and at best it's 
  only a guess, no matter which one we decide on." 
  As they approached the opening they were almost over-
  powered by the stench that came from it, but von Horst 
  was determined to investigate every possible avenue of. 
  escape; so he stepped through the opening into a smaller 
  chamber. The sight that met his eyes brought him to a 
  sudden halt. A dozen human corpses were piled against 
  the far wall of the chamber. A single glance showed von 
  Horst that there was no outer opening leading from the 
  room; so he beat a hasty retreat. 
  One of the two remaining openings from the large 
  chamber was smoke blackened, and on the floor of the 
  cave just in front of it were the ashes and charcoal of 
  many wood fires. It's appearance gave von Horst an idea. 
  He walked to the second opening and held his smoking 
  torch close to it, but the smoke rose steadily; then he 
  went to that before which fires had been built, and now 
  the smoke from his torch was drawn steadily into the 
  opening. 
  "This one must lead to the outer opening," he said, 
  "and it also served as a chimney when they cooked their 
  feasts. Nice lot, whoever they are that inhabit these 
  caves. I think I prefer Gaz. We'll try this one, La-ja." 
  A narrow corridor rose steeply. It was blackened with 
  103 
  
   
  soot, and the draft that wafted continually up it was 
  laden with the stench from the horror chambers below. 
  "It can't be far to the top," said von Horst. "The cliff 
  didn't look more than fifty feet high, and we have been 
  climbing a little all the time since we first entered the 
  cave." 
  "It's getting light ahead," said La-ja. 
  "Yes, there's the opening!" exclaimed von Horst. 
  Ten feet from the surface they passed the openings to 
  two corridors or chambers, one on either side of the 
  shaft they were ascending; but so engrossed were they 
  in escaping from the foul air that surrounded them that 
  they scarce noticed them. Nor did they see the forms 
  lurking in the darkness just within. 
  La-ja was just behind von Horst. It was she who dis-
  covered the danger first—but too late. She saw hands 
  reach out of one of the openings just as von Horst passed 
  it, seize him, and drag him in. She voiced a cry of 
  warning, and at the same instant she was seized and 
  drawn into the opening on the opposite side. 
  X 
  GORBUSES 
  VON HOEST struggled and fought to free himself. He 
  shouted aloud to La-ja to run to the opening they had 
  seen ahead of them and make her escape. He did not 
  know that she, too, had been captured. It seemed that 
  a dozen hands clung to each of his arms, and though he 
  was a powerful man he could neither escape nor wrench 
  his arm free long enough to draw his pistol. His spear 
  had been snatched from him at the moment of his seizure. 
  104 
  
   
  It was very dark in the corridor down which he was 
  being dragged along a steep declivity; so that he could 
  not see whether they were men or beasts that had cap-
  tured him. Yet, though they did not speak, he was sure 
  that they were men. Presently, at a sudden turning of the 
  corridor, they came into a lighted chamber—a vast sub-
  terranean room illuminated by many torches. And here 
  von Horst saw the nature of the creatures into whose 
  hands he had fallen. They were of the same race as the 
  man he had seen fleeing from the zarith. They were 
  mostly men; but there were a few women among them 
  and perhaps a dozen children. All had white skins, 
  white hair, and the pink and red eyes of Albinos, which 
  in themselves are not disgusting. It was the bestial, 
  brutal faces of these creatures that made them appear 
  so horrible. 
  Most of the assemblage, which must have numbered 
  several hundred people, sat or squatted or lay near the 
  wall of the roughly circular chamber, leaving a large 
  open space in the center. To this space von Horst was 
  dragged; then he was thrown to the ground, his hands 
  tied behind his back, and his ankles secured. 
  As he lay on his side, taking in all that he could see 
  of the repulsive concourse, his heart suddenly sank. 
  From the mouth of a corridor opposite that through 
  which he had been brought into the chamber he saw 
  La-ja being dragged. They brought her to the open space 
  where he lay and bound her as they had bound him. The 
  two lay facing one another. Von Horst tried to smile, but 
  there was not much heart in it. From what he had seen 
  of these people and what he had guessed of their 
  customs, he could draw no slightest ray of hope that they 
  might escape a fate similar to that of those whose ghastly 
  remains they had seen in those other two chambers of 
  the cave. 
  105 
  
   
  "It looks like a hard winter," he said. 
  "Winter? What is winter?" she asked. 
  "It is the time of year—oh, but then you don't even 
  know what a year is. What's the use? Let's talk about 
  something else." 
  "Why do we have to talk?" 
  "I don't know why I have to, but I do. Ordinarily I'm 
  not a very loquacious person, but right now I've got to 
  talk or go crazy." 
  "Be careful what you say, then," she whispered, "if 
  you are thinking of talking of a way to escape." 
  "Do you suppose these things can understand us?" he 
  demanded. 
  "Yes, we can understand you," said one of the crea-
  tures standing near them, in hollow, sepulchral tones. . 
  "Then tell us why you captured us. What are you 
  going to do with us?" 
  The fellow bared his yellowed teeth in a soundless 
  laugh. "He asks what we are going to do with them," he 
  announced in loud tones that were none the less sug-
  gestive of the grave because of their loudness. 
  The audience rocked with silent mirth. "What are we 
  going to do with them?" echoed several, and then they 
  went off into gales of hideous, mirthless laughter that 
  was as silent as the tomb. 
  "If they want to know, let's show them now," sug-
  gested one. 
  "Yes, Torp," said another, "now, now." 
  "No," said he who had been addressed as Torp, the 
  same fellow who had originally spoken to von Horst. 
  "We already have plenty, many of which have aged too 
  long as it is." He stepped closer to the prisoners; and, 
  stooping, pinched their flesh, digging a filthy forefinger 
  between their ribs. "They need fattening," he announced. 
  "We shall feed them for a while. Plenty of nuts and a 
  106 
  
   
  little fruit will put a layer of juicy fat on their ribs." He 
  rubbed his palms together and licked his flabby lips. 
  "Some of you take them away and put them in that little 
  room over there, get nuts and fruit for them; and keep 
  them there until they get fat." 
  As he finished speaking, another of the creatures en-
  tered the room from one of the runways that led above. 
  He was very much excited as he ran into the center of 
  the cavern. 
  "What's the matter with you, Durg?" demanded Torp. 
  "I was chased by a zarith," exclaimed Durg, "but 
  that is not all. A strange gilak with a woman made 
  many loud noises with a little black stick, and the 
  zarith fell down and died. The strange gilak saved 
  Durg's life; but why, I do not know." 
  The men who had gathered about von Horst and 
  La-ja to take them to the chamber in which they were to 
  be fattened had removed the thongs from their ankles 
  and dragged them to their feet just as Durg finished his 
  story; so that he saw them now for the first time. 
  "There they are!" he exclaimed excitedly. "There is 
  the same gilak that saved Durg's life. What are you 
  going to do with them, Torp?" 
  "They are going to be fattened," replied Torp; "they 
  are too thin." 
  "You should let them go, because they saved my life," 
  urged Durg. 
  "Should I let them go because the man is a fool?" de-
  manded Torp. "If he had any sense he would have 
  killed and eaten you. Take them away." 
  "He saved a Gorbus!" cried Durg, addressing the as-
  sembled tribe. "Should we let him be killed for that? I 
  say, let them go free." 
  "Let them go!" cried a few, but there were more who 
  shrieked, "Fatten them! Fatten them!" 
  107 
  
   
  As the men were pushing them toward the entrance to 
  the chamber in which they were to be confined, von 
  Horst saw Durg facing Torp angrily. 
  "Some day I am going to kill you," threatened the 
  former. "We need a good chief. You are no good." 
  "I am chief," screamed Torp. "It is I who will kill you." 
  "You?" demanded Durg with disgust. "You are only a 
  killer of women. You murdered seven of them. You 
  never murdered a man. I murdered four." 
  "You poisoned them," sneered Torp. 
  "I did not!" shrieked Durg. "I killed three of them with 
  a cleaver and stabbed the other with a dagger." 
  "In the back?" asked Torp. 
  "No, not in the back, you woman killer." 
  As von Horst was pushed from the large cavern into 
  the darkness of the small one that adjoined it the two 
  Gorbuses were still quarrelling; and as the European 
  meditated upon what he had heard, he was struck not 
  so much by the gruesomeness of their words as by Durg's 
  use of two English words—cleaver and dagger. 
  This was sufficiently remarkable in itself, and even 
  more so coming from the lips of a member of a tribe 
  that was apparently so low in the scale of evolution that 
  they had no weapons of any description. How could 
  Durg know what a dagger was? How could he ever 
  have heard of a cleaver? And where did he learn the 
  English words for them? Von Horst could discover no 
  explanation of the mystery. 
  The Gorbuses left them in the smaller cave without 
  bothering to secure their ankles again, though they left 
  their hands tied behind them. There were leaves and 
  grasses on the floor, and the two prisoners made them-
  selves as comfortable as they could. The torch-light 
  from the larger cave relieved the gloom of their prison 
  cell, permitting them to see one another dimly as they 
  108 
  
   
  sat on the musty bedding that littered the floor. 
  "What are we going to do now?" demanded La-ja. 
  "I don't know of anything that we can do right now," 
  replied the man, "but it appears that later on we are 
  going to be eaten—when we are fatter. If they feed us 
  well we should do our best to get fat. We must certainly 
  leave a good impression behind us when we go." 
  "That is stupid," snapped the girl. "Your head must 
  be very sick indeed to think of anything so stupid." 
  "Perhaps 'thick' would be a better word," laughed 
  von Horst. "Do you know, La-ja, it is just too bad." 
  "What is too bad?" 
  "That you have no sense of humor," he replied. "We 
  could have a much better time if you had." 
  "I never know when you are serious and when you 
  are laughing with words," she said. "If you will tell me 
  when the things you say are supposed to be funny, per-
  haps I can laugh at them." 
  "You win, La-ja," the man assured her. 
  "Win what?" she demanded. 
  "My apology and my esteem—you have a sense of 
  humor, even though you don't know it." 
  "You said a moment ago," said La-ja, "that you didn't 
  know of anything that we could do right now. Don't 
  you wish to escape, or would you rather stay here and 
  get eaten?" 
  "Of course I'd prefer escaping," replied von Horst, "but 
  I don't see any possibility of it at present while all those 
  creatures are in the big cave." 
  "What have you got that thing you call peestol for?" 
  demanded La-ja, not without a note of derision. "You 
  killed a zarith with it. You could much more easily kill 
  these Gorbuses; then we could escape easily." 
  "There are too many of them, La-ja," he replied. "If I 
  fired away all my ammunition, I could not possibly kill 
  109 
  
   
  enough of them to make escape certain; furthermore 
  my hands are tied behind me. But even were they free, 
  I'd wait to the very last moment before attempting it. 
  "You have no way of knowing it, La-ja; but when I 
  have used up all these shiny little things tucked in my 
  belt, the pistol will be of no more use to me; for I can 
  never get any more of them. Therefore, I must be very 
  careful not to waste them. 
  "However, you may rest assured that before I'll let 'em 
  eat either one of us, I'll do a little shooting. My hope is 
  that they will be so surprised and frightened by the re-
  ports that they'll fall over one another in their efforts to 
  escape." 
  As he ceased speaking, a Gorbus entered their little 
  cave. It was Durg. He carried a small torch which il-
  luminated the interior, revealing the rough walls, the 
  litter of leaves and grasses, the two figures lying un-
  comfortably with bound hands. 
  Durg looked them over in silence for a moment; then 
  he squatted on the floor near them. "Torp is a stubborn 
  fool," he said in his hollow voice. "He ought to set you 
  free, but he won't. He's made up his mind that we're 
  going to eat you, and I guess we shall. 
  "It's too bad though. No one ever saved a Gorbus's 
  life before; it was unheard of. If I had been chief, I 
  would have let you go." 
  "Maybe you can help us anyway," suggested von 
  Horst. 
  "How?" asked Durg. 
  "Show us how we can escape." 
  "You can't escape," Durg assured him emphatically. 
  "Those people don't stay in that other cave all the 
  time, do they?" demanded the European. 
  "If they go away, Torp will leave a guard here to see 
  that you don't get away." 
  110 
  
   
  Von Horst mused for a moment. Finally he looked up 
  at their grotesque visitor. "You'd like to be chief, 
  wouldn't you?" he demanded. 
  "S-s-sh!" cautioned Durg. "Don't let anyone hear you 
  say that. But how did you know?" 
  "I know many things," replied von Horst in a whisper, 
  mysteriously. 
  Durg eyed him half fearfully. "I knew that you were 
  not as other gilaks," he said. "You are different. Perhaps 
  you are from that other life, that other world, of which 
  Gorbuses get fleeting glimpses out of the dim back-
  ground of almost forgotten memories. Yes, they are for-
  gotten; and yet there are always reminders of them 
  constantly tormenting us. Tell me—who are you? From 
  whence came you?" 
  "I am called Von; and I come from the outer world— 
  from a world very different from this one." 
  "I knew it!" exclaimed Durg. "It must be that there is 
  another world. Once we Gorbuses lived in it. It was a 
  happy world; but because of what we did we were sent 
  away from it to live here in this dark forest, miserable 
  and unhappy." 
  "I do not understand," said von Horst. "You didn't 
  come from my world; there is no one like you there." 
  "We were different there," said Durg. "We all feel that 
  we were different. To some the memories are more dis-
  tinct than to others, but they are never wholly clear. We 
  get fleeting glimpses that are blurred and dim and that 
  fade quickly before we can decipher them or fix them 
  definitely in our memories. It is only those that we 
  murdered that we see clearly—we see them and the way 
  that we murdered them; but we do not see ourselves as 
  we were then, except rarely; and then the visions are 
  only hazy suggestions. But we know that we were not as 
  we are here. It is tantalizing; it drives us almost to mad- 
  111 
  
   
  ness—never quite to see, never quite to recall. 
  "I can see the three that I killed with the cleaver—my 
  father and two older brothers—I did it that I might get 
  something they had; I do not know what. They stood in 
  my way. I murdered them. Now I am a naked Gorbus 
  feeding on human bodies. Some of us think that thus 
  we are punished." 
  "What do you know about cleavers?" asked von Horst, 
  now much interested in the weird recital and its various 
  implications. 
  "I know nothing of cleavers except that it was with a 
  cleaver I killed my father and my two brothers. With a 
  dagger, I stabbed a man. I do not know why. I can see 
  him—his pain distorted features clearly, the rest of him 
  very vaguely. He had on blue clothes with shiny buttons. 
  Ah, now he has faded away—all but his face. He is glar-
  ing at me. I almost had something then—clothes, buttons! 
  What are they? I almost knew—now they are gone. What 
  were the words? What words did I just say? They have 
  gone, too. It is ever thus. We are plagued by half pic-
  tures that are snatched away from us immediately." 
  "You all suffer thus?" asked von Horst. 
  "Yes," said Durg. "We all see those we have murdered; 
  those are the only memories that we retain permanently." 
  "You are all murderers?" 
  "Yes. I am one of the best. Torp's seven women are 
  nothing. Some he killed while they were embracing him 
  with love—he smothered them or choked them. One he 
  strangled with her own hair. He is always bragging 
  about that one." 
  "Why did he kill them?" demanded La-ja. 
  "He wished something that they had. It was thus with 
  all of us. I can't imagine what it was I wished when I 
  killed my father and brothers, nor what any of the others 
  wished. Whatever it was, we didn't get it; for we have 
  112 
  
   
  nothing here. The only thing we ever crave is food, and 
  we have plenty of that. Anyway, no one would kill for 
  food. It gives no satisfaction. It is nauseating. We eat 
  because if we didn't we believe that we would die and go 
  to a worse place than this. We are afraid of that." 
  "You don't enjoy eating?" asked von Horst. "What do 
  you enjoy?" 
  "Nothing. There is no happiness in the Forest of 
  Death. There are cold and hopelessness and nausea and 
  fear. Oh, yes; there is hate. We hate one another. Per-
  haps we get some satisfaction from that, but not a great 
  deal. We are all hating, and you can't get a great deal 
  of pleasure doing what every one else is doing. 
  "I derived a little pleasure from wishing to set you 
  free—that was different; that was unique. It is the first 
  pleasure I have ever had. Of course I am not certain 
  just what pleasure is, but I thought I recognized the 
  sensation as pleasure because while I was experiencing it 
  I forgot all about cold and hopelessness and nausea and 
  fear. Anything that makes one forget must be a pleasure." 
  "You are all murderers?" asked La-ja. 
  "We have each killed something," replied Durg. "Do 
  you see that old woman sitting over there with her face 
  in her hands? She killed the happiness of two people. 
  She remembers it quite clearly. A man and a woman. 
  They loved each other very much. All that they asked 
  was to be left alone and allowed to be happy. 
  "And that man standing just beyond her. He killed 
  something more beautiful than life. Love. He killed bis 
  wife's love. 
  "Yes, each of us has killed something; but I am glad 
  that it was men that I killed and not happiness or love." 
  "Perhaps you are right," said von Horst. "There are 
  far too many men in the world but not half enough 
  happiness or love." 
  113 
  
   
  A sudden commotion in the outer cave interrupted 
  further conversation. Durg jumped to his feet and left 
  them; and von Horst and La-ja, looking out, saw two 
  prisoners being dragged into the cavern. 
  "More food for the larder," remarked the man. 
  "And they don't even enjoy eating it," said La-ja. "I 
  wonder if what Durg told us is true—about the murders, 
  I mean, and the other life they half recall." 
  Von Horst shook his head. "I don't know; but if it is, 
  it answers a question that has been bothering generations 
  of men of the outer crust." 
  "Look," said La-ja. "They are bringing the prisoners 
  this way." 
  "To the fattening pen," said von Horst with a grin. 
  "One of them is a very big man, is he not?" remarked 
  La-ja. "It takes many Gorbuses to force him along." 
  "That fellow looks familiar to me," said von Horst. 
  "Not the big one—the other. There are so many Gorbuses 
  around them that I can't get a good look at either of 
  them." 
  The new prisoners were brought to the smaller cave 
  and thrust in roughly, so that they almost fell upon the 
  two already there. The larger man was blustering and 
  threatening; the other whined and complained. In the 
  semi-darkness of the interior it was impossible to dis-
  tinguish the features of either. 
  They paid no attention to von Horst or La-ja although 
  they must have been aware of their presence; yet the 
  former felt certain that the loud bragging of the larger 
  man must be for the purpose of impressing them, as the 
  Gorbuses had departed; and the fellow's companion did 
  not appear to be the type that any one would wish to 
  impress. He was quite evidently a coward and in a blue 
  funk of terror. He was almost gibbering with fright as 
  he bemoaned the fate that had ever brought him to the 
  114 
  
   
  Forest of Death; but the other man paid no attention to 
  him, each rambling on quite independently of the other. 
  As von Horst, half amused, listened to them, several 
  Gorbuses approached the cave, bearing fruits and nuts. 
  One of them carried a torch, the light from which il-
  luminated the interior of the cave as the fellow entered; 
  and in the flickering light, the faces of the prisoners were 
  revealed to each other. 
  "You?" fairly screamed the big fellow who had been 
  blustering, as his eyes fell upon von Horst. It was Frug, 
  and his companion was Skruf. 
  XI 
  FATTENED FOR SLAUGHTER 
  As THE FULL significance of the situation revealed itself 
  to von Horst, he was of two minds as to whether he 
  should laugh or curse. Their predicament had been bad 
  enough before, but with the presence of these two it 
  might be infinitely worse. Frug's reaction when he recog-
  nized them augured no good. However, if the situation 
  was menacing it was also amusing; and von Horst smiled 
  as he contemplated the excitement of the massive cave 
  man. 
  "And the girl, too!" exclaimed Skruf. 
  "Yes," said von Horst, "it is indeed we. To what do we 
  owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? We had 
  thought of you as being safely beside the home fires of 
  Basti cooking your meat, and here you are waiting to be 
  cooked as some one else's meat! Ah, but is not life filled 
  with surprises? Some pleasurable, some—er—not so pleas-
  urable." 
  115 
  
   
  "If I could break these bonds and get my hands on 
  you!" shouted Frug. 
  "Yes? What would you do then, my man?" inquired 
  von Horst. 
  "I'd break your neck; I'd pound your face to a pulp; 
  I'd-" 
  "Wait," begged von Horst. "Permit me to suggest a 
  different order of procedure. If you were to break my 
  neck first, as you intimate is your intention, you would 
  derive little pleasure from beating my face to a pulp, as 
  I should be dead and therefore unable to appreciate 
  what you were doing to me. Really, Frug, you are not 
  very bright. I cannot conceive how a person of such 
  limited intelligence ever came to be chosen chief of 
  Basti, but perhaps you were chosen because of the cir-
  cumference of your biceps rather than for that of your 
  cranium." 
  The Gorbuses had dumped a quantity of fruit and 
  nuts upon the floor of the cave and departed, leaving 
  the cavern again in semi-darkness. Frug was still strug-
  gling with his bonds. Skruf was whimpering and moan-
  ing. Von Horst was contemplating the food. "We can 
  negotiate the softer fruit with our hands tied behind 
  us," he remarked to La-ja, "but how do they expect us 
  to crack the shells of some of those nuts." 
  "Perhaps we can free our hands," suggested the girl. 
  "Roll over close to me, with your back against mine; 
  then try to untie the thongs that bind my wrists. If you 
  can free me, I can easily free you." 
  She had spoken in a low whisper lest Frug or Skruf 
  hear and act upon the suggestion before she and von 
  Horst were free. The European wriggled his body into 
  position behind that of the girl; then he fell to work 
  upon the knots at her wrists. It was a slow process, par-
  tially because he could not see what he was doing and 
  116 
  
   
  partially because of the limited use he had of his hands; 
  but after what seemed an eternity he felt a knot loosen-
  ing. With practice he became more adept, and soon the 
  second knot gave to his perseverance. There were several 
  more; but eventually the last one succumbed, and La-ja's 
  hands were free. Immediately she rolled over, facing his 
  back; and he could feel her nimble fingers searching out 
  the secret of the knots. When she touched his hands or 
  arms he experienced a strange thrill that was new to 
  him. He had felt the contact of her flesh before but 
  always then she had been angry and resentful, some-
  times violently so; and he had experienced no pleasurable 
  reaction. Now it was different; because, for the first time, 
  she was ministering to him and of her own free will. 
  "What are you two doing?" demanded Frug. "You are 
  very quiet. If you think you are going to eat all the food 
  they brought, I'll tell you you'd better not. I'll kill you if 
  you try that." 
  "Before or after you break my neck?" asked von Horst. 
  "Before, of course," snapped Frug. "No, after. No— 
  what difference does it make? You talk like a fool." 
  "And after you have killed me and broken my neck, 
  or broken my neck and killed me, in whichever order you 
  finally decide to precede, you and Skruf will undoubtedly 
  eat the food. Am I right?" 
  "Of course you're right," growled Frug. 
  "And do you know the purpose for which the food is 
  intended?" inquired von Horst. 
  "For us to eat, of course." 
  "But why should they care whether or not we eat?" 
  asked the European. "Are you laboring under the delu-
  sion that they are at all concerned about either our hap-
  piness or our comfort?" 
  "Then why did they bring it?" demanded Skruf. 
  "To fatten us," explained von Horst. "It seems that 
  117 
  
   
  they like their meat fat, or perhaps I should say that it 
  tastes less nauseating to them fat and fresh." 
  "Fatten us? Eat us?" gasped Skruf. 
  Frag made no comment, but von Horst could see that 
  he was redoubling his efforts to free himself of his bonds. 
  A moment later La-ja succeeded in negotiating the last 
  knot, and von Horst felt the thongs slip from his wrists. 
  He sat up and gathered a handful of fruit, passing to to 
  La-ja; then he turned to Frug. 
  "My hands are free," he said. "I am going to remove 
  your bonds, and then you can liberate Skruf. You are 
  not going to kill me. If you try to, I'll kill you. I still have 
  the weapon with which Skruf has seen me kill many 
  beasts and you have seen some of your own warriors 
  killed. I am going to set you free for two reasons. One 
  is, that you may eat. The other is not a very good reason 
  unless you have more brains than I give you credit for. 
  I hope for the best, but I am skeptical." 
  "My brains are all right," growled Frug. "What is 
  your other reason for setting us free?" 
  "We are all in the same fix here," von Horst reminded 
  him. "If we don't escape, we shall be killed and eaten. 
  Working together, we may be able to escape. If we 
  waste our time trying to kill one another or trying to 
  keep from being killed, none of us will escape. Now 
  what do you and Skruf intend to do about it? It is up to 
  you. I shall free your hands in any event; and I shall kill 
  you before you can lay your hands on me, if you try to." 
  Frug scratched his head. "I swore to kill you," he said. 
  "You got me into this trouble. If you hadn't escaped from 
  Basti, I wouldn't be here. It was while we were tracking 
  you that we were captured. You killed some of my war-
  riors. You liberated all of our slaves, and now you ask 
  me not to kill you." 
  Von Horst shrugged. "You are misstating the facts," 
  118 
  
   
  he said. "I am not asking you not to kill me; I am asking 
  you not to make me kill you. Frug, while I have this 
  weapon, you haven't a chance on earth to kill me. Per-
  haps I should have said a chance in the earth." 
  "Promise him, Frug," begged Skruf. "He is right. We 
  can't escape if we fight among ourselves. At least you 
  and I can't, for he can kill us both. I have seen him kill 
  with the little black stick. He does not have to be near 
  the thing he wishes to kill." 
  "Very well," Frug finally assented. "We will not try 
  to kill one another until after we have escaped from 
  these people." 
  Von Horst moved over to the chief of Basti and re-
  moved the bonds from his wrists; then Frug released 
  Skruf. All but the latter immediately fell to eating. Skruf 
  sat apart, his face resolutely turned away from the food. 
  "Why "don't you eat?" demanded Frug. 
  "And get fat?" cried Skruf. "The rest of you can get 
  fat and be eaten, but I shall remain so thin that no one 
  will eat me." 
  Time passed, as it must even in a timeless world. They 
  ate and slept, but von Horst and La-ja never slept at the 
  same time—Frug and Skruf had indicated too great an 
  interest in the pistol. When von Horst slept, La-ja 
  watched. Durg came occasionally to talk with them. He 
  always appeared friendly, but he could hold out no hope 
  that they might eventually escape the fate that Torp had 
  decreed for them. 
  Von Horst had often wondered where the nuts and 
  fruits came from with which they were fed, as he had 
  seen no sign of either in the grim forest he and La-ja had 
  traversed. He had a theory that perhaps the end of the 
  forest was not far distant, and this he wished to deter-
  mine. He had by no means given up hope of escape. 
  When he asked Durg where the Gorbuses got the food 
  119 
  
   
  for them, he was told that it grew at no great distance, 
  near the edge of the Forest of Death. This was what 
  von Horst was most anxious to hear. He also learned 
  the direction in which they went to gather the fruit. 
  But when he attempted to persuade Durg to assist them 
  in their attempt to escape, he met with flat refusal; and 
  finally he desisted, being careful to give Durg the im-
  pression that he had wholly abandoned the idea. 
  The rich nuts, the lack of exercise soon began to 
  show in added layers of fat. Only Skruf remained 
  noticeably thin, steadfastly refusing to eat more than 
  enough to sustain life. Frug put on fat far more rapidly 
  than either von Horst or La-ja. 
  Finally Skruf called his attention to it. "They will eat 
  you first," he prophesied. "You are very fat." 
  "Do you think so?" asked the chief, feeling of the fold 
  of fat that encircled his waist. He seemed perturbed. "I 
  thought we were going to try to escape," he said to von 
  Horst. 
  "I have been hoping that the Gorbuses would leave 
  for a while," replied the European, "but only a few of 
  them go away at a time." 
  "Most of them are asleep now," remarked La-ja. "Many 
  of their torches have gone out." 
  "That's right," said von Horst, looking out into the 
  other chamber. "I've never seen so many of them asleep 
  at one time." 
  "I think they have been feeding," said La-ja. "They 
  have been going out in small parties constantly since I 
  slept last. Perhaps that is why they are sleepy." 
  "There go some more torches," whispered von Horst. 
  "There are only a few burning now." 
  "And all the rest of the Gorbuses are nodding." La-ja 
  could not hide her excitement. "If they all fall asleep, we 
  can get away." 
  120 
  
   
  But they did not all sleep. One remained awake, 
  nursing his torch. It was Torp. Finally he arose and ap-
  proached the cave where the prisoners were confined. 
  When they saw him coming they lay down in such posi-
  tions as to hide the fact that their hands were free, as 
  they had in the past whenever a Gorbus came to their 
  cave. Torp entered, carrying his torch. He looked them 
  over carefully. Finally he poked Skruf with a foot. 
  "There is no use waiting for you to get fat," he grumbled. 
  "We will kill you after this sleep; then we won't have to 
  feed you any more." 
  "Kill the other first," begged Skruf; "They are much 
  fatter than I. Give me a chance, and I will get fat." 
  Torp yawned. "Well kill you all at the same time," 
  he said; then he turned to leave the cave. 
  Von Horst looked beyond him and saw that every 
  torch in the outer room was extinguished—the place lay 
  in utter darkness. Then he leaped silently to his feet, 
  drawing his pistol as he did so. Raising the pistol, von 
  Horst struck Torp a single heavy blow on the skull. 
  Without a sound, the fellow dropped in his tracks. Von 
  Horst seized his torch. 
  "Come!" he whispered. 
  Silently the four ran across the larger cavern to one of 
  the exits and up the steeply inclined shaft to the corridor 
  that led to the outer world. As they passed from the 
  dim precincts of the cavern even the grim and gloomy 
  wood looked fair and lovely by comparison. 
  How long they had been imprisoned von Horst could 
  not even guess, but he felt that it must have been a long 
  time. They had lost count of sleeps, there had been so 
  many; and they had all, with the exception of Skruf, put 
  on considerable weight, indicating that their imprison-
  ment had been of long duration. At a trot they set off in 
  the direction they believed led to the nearest edge of 
  121 
  
   
  the Forest of Death, for they were determined to put as 
  much distance as possible between themselves and the 
  caves of the Gorbuses before their escape was dis-
  covered. 
  When in good condition, Pellucidarians can maintain 
  a steady trot for great distances; but it was not long 
  before all except Skruf were panting from the exertion— 
  additonial proof that they had been long confined. At 
  length they were forced to slacken their gait to a walk. 
  "When do we commence killing one another, Frug?" 
  inquired von Horst. "The truce was to last only until we 
  had escaped—and we have escaped." 
  Frug eyed the pistol in its holster and pulled on his 
  beard, meditatively. "Let us wait until we have left the 
  forest and separated," he suggested; "then, if we ever 
  meet again, I shall kill you." 
  "For your sake let us hope that we never meet again," 
  laughed von Horst, "but what assurance have I that in 
  the meantime you and Skruf will honor the agreement? 
  I certainly have no reason to trust Skruf." 
  "No one trusts Skruf," replied Frug; "but you have my 
  word that I will not kill either one of you until after we 
  separate, and I promise Skruf that I will kill him if he 
  does." 
  With this loose understanding von Horst had to be 
  satisfied; but he felt some confidence in Frug's word, be-
  cause the very nature of the man seemed to preclude any 
  possibility of duplicity on his part. He was brutal and 
  savage, but he was also forthright and candid. If he 
  intended killing you, he climbed to a house top and 
  screamed it to the world. He was not the sort to sneak 
  up on a man from behind and stab him in the back— 
  that was more like Skruf. 
  And so they hurried on until, at last, much sooner 
  122 
  
   
  than they had expected, the forest thinned, the type of 
  trees changed, and they came into what seemed a new 
  world. Once again the noon-day sun beat down upon 
  lush vegetation growing between the boles of an open 
  forest. Flowers bloomed, birds sang. Presently they saw 
  an open plain upon which they stood at the outer rim of 
  the forest land. No sign of pursuit had developed, and 
  the Pellucidarians were certain that the Gorbuses would 
  never venture out into the sunlight beyond their gloomy 
  wood. 
  "They won't follow us here," said Frug. "No man 
  has ever seen a Gorbus outside the Forest of Death." 
  "Then let's find a place to sleep," suggested von Horst. 
  "We need rest. Afterward we can go on until we are 
  ready to separate." 
  "Which way do you go?" demanded Frug. 
  Von Horst looked questioningly at La-ja. "Which 
  way?" he asked. 
  The girl pointed out across the plain. 
  "That is the way I go, too," said von Horst. 
  "We turn this way," said Frug, pointing to the left. 
  "We shall skirt the forest until we can pass around it. I 
  will never enter the Forest of Death again." 
  "Then after we have slept we separate," said von 
  Horst. 
  "Yes," replied Frug. "I hope that we shall meet again 
  soon, that I may kill you." 
  "When you get an idea into that thick skull of yours, 
  you certainly stick to it," commented von Horst with a 
  grin. 
  "We will look for a place to sleep," announced the 
  Bastian. "There may be caves in this cliff." 
  They discovered a place where they could descend 
  the escarpment, and on a natural ledge they found an 
  out-jutting stratum beneath which erosion had worn a 
  123 
  
   
  large niche in which a dozen men might have found 
  shelter from the hot rays of the sun. 
  "You sleep first, La-ja," said von Horst, "and I will 
  watch." 
  "I am not sleepy," she replied. "You sleep. I have slept 
  since you." 
  It was a bare rock that von Horst stretched out upon, 
  such a bed as some far distant forebear might have found 
  good but it was a far cry from box springs and hair mat-
  tresses. Yet so quickly had the man sloughed the last 
  veneer of civilization and reverted to some primordial 
  type, he seemed quite content with the naked rock; and 
  in a moment he was asleep. 
  When he awoke he felt that he must have slept for a 
  long time, so thoroughly rested and refreshed was he. 
  He stretched luxuriously before turning over to greet 
  La-ja and see if the others were awake. When he did 
  turn, he found himself alone. Frug and Skruf were gone 
  and La-ja, too. 
  He stepped to the edge of the shelf before the cave 
  and looked out across the plain and to the left and 
  to the right. There was no one in sight. He thought at 
  first that La-ja had run away from him, and then it 
  occurred to him that Frug and Skruf had stolen her. 
  Anger and resentment swelled in his bosom at the du-
  plicity of the Bastian chief in whose word he had trusted, 
  and then of a sudden a new thought came to him. After 
  all, had Frug broken his pledge? He had only promised 
  not to kill; he had not promised not to abduct! 
  124 
  
  XII 
  MAMMOTH MEN 
  FROM THE FOOT of the cliff where the cave lay, the plain 
  stretched away knee deep in lush grasses; and from his 
  position above, von Horst saw where a new trail had 
  been recently trampled toward the left. That was the 
  direction which Frug had said he and Skruf would take 
  to avoid the Forest of Death on their return to Basti. 
  The grass was not trampled out across the plain in the 
  direction of Lo-har; there was just the one plain trail 
  toward the left—a trail that would be easy to follow as 
  long as it ran through the deep grass. 
  Von Horst wished that he knew how long he had slept, 
  so that he might have some idea of the start the ab-
  ductors had; for he was certain that they were ab-
  ductors. It was inconceivable that La-ja would have 
  accompanied them back to Basti voluntarily. The trail 
  appeared quite plain from above, but when he reached 
  the foot of the cliff he saw that it was not so apparent. 
  A close examination showed that only the grasses that 
  had been actually crushed and broken by the passage of 
  the three remained down to mark the trail; all others had 
  returned to their normal positions. It was this discovery 
  that gave von Horst greatest concern, as it seemed to 
  indicate that the two men and the girl were far ahead 
  of him. 
  At the foot of the cliff there were some indications of a 
  struggle. The grasses here had been crushed and broken 
  over a considerable area. The man could visualize what 
  had taken place. La-ja had tried to break away from her 
  captors and had probably put up a good fight, but 
  125 
  
   
  finally she had been overcome and carried away, 
  He stood looking along that dim trail that led away 
  into a new unknown. It led away from Sari, to what 
  unknown dangers he could not even guess. Should he 
  follow it? And for what? There was little likelihood that 
  he could overtake the three; and if they reached Basti, 
  none that he could rescue the girl. Why should he wish 
  to risk his life in an attempt to save her—an attempt that 
  was almost certain to fail? She disliked him. She had not 
  taken even decent precautions to hide the fact. And if 
  he did rescue her it would be only to be killed by her 
  savage fellow tribesmen for his pains. He thought of 
  Gaz, the terrible man who crushed lives out with his 
  bare hands. 
  Were he to turn in the opposite direction he might 
  skirt that end of the forest and pick up Dangar's trail. 
  The thought of Dangar and the pleasurable anticipation 
  of the friendly welcome awaiting him in Sari filled him 
  with longing. He desired companionship; he longed to 
  feel the warmth of a friend's hand again, to see the light 
  of a friendly smile. He was tired of indifference, and 
  enmity, and hatred. With a sigh, he turned back and 
  followed the dim trail toward the left. Off there some-
  where in the distance was a little figure with a wealth 
  of golden hair, perhaps an ignis fatuus luring him to 
  his doom. 
  "I wonder why I do it," he said half aloud; and then 
  he shrugged his shoulders and swung on into the un-
  known. 
  Profiting by past experience and the schooling he had 
  received from Dangar, he kept in mind constantly the 
  necessity of directing his steps so that he would never 
  be too far from some haven of safety were he threatened 
  by any of the savage creatures that haunt the Pellucida-
  rian scene. Trees were the prime factor in his defensive 
  126 
  
   
  strategy. Never before had trees loomed so large in his 
  consciousness, and all too often did he have to seek 
  sanctuary among their branches. Now it would be a 
  huge cave lion that drove him to shelter; again a mighty 
  tarag, or some fearsome reptile of a forgotten age. 
  Along the route that he followed he found the places 
  that Frug and Skruf and La-ja had slept; and here he 
  slept, too. For food he had the eggs of birds and rep-
  tiles, fruits that grew upon some of the trees or bushes 
  along his route, and various edible tubers that Dangar 
  or La-ja had taught him to find and recognize. He made 
  fire as had his primitive progenitors who trod the outer 
  crust with the bos and the cave bear, and he took the 
  time to fashion a new bow and arrows that he might 
  have meat without wasting his precious ammunition. A 
  sturdy spear he fashioned, too, its tip fire hardened as 
  were the tips of his arrows. 
  He tried to make up for the time thus lost by pushing 
  on throughout the endless day until utter exhaustion 
  forced him to halt for sleep. Often, between his own 
  sleeps, he passed one and sometimes two of the sleeping 
  places of those he pursued; and this assurance that he 
  was gaining on them heartened him and spurred him 
  on, yet there were times when his quest seemed utterly 
  hopeless and discouragement sat heavily upon him. The 
  great forest seemed to run on interminably, but at last 
  it ended at the foot of a transverse range of rough hills. 
  Here he had difficulty in following the trail, for the 
  ground was no longer carpeted with tall grass but was 
  oftentimes hard and stony. 
  Beyond the hills stretched another rolling plain 
  through which wound a large river. He viewed it first 
  from the summit of the pass that he had followed 
  through the hills along an ancient trail worn deep by the 
  feet of men and beasts through countless ages. There 
  127 
  
   
  was a fringe of forest along the river and little patches of 
  wood scattered about the plain which stretched away to 
  his right to merge in the distance with what seemed the 
  blue of an ocean. Ahead of him, far away, another 
  forest bounded the plain upon that side, while to his 
  left the hills curved around to meet the forest in the 
  distance. Game dotted the landscape as far as the eye 
  could reach. In the nearer foreground he could dis-
  tinguish bos and red deer, antelopes, tapirs, sheep, and 
  several species of herbivorous dinosaurs; while at the 
  edge of the forest skirting the river he made out the 
  huge forms of mammoths and giant sloths. It was a 
  scene of such primitive beauty and interest that von 
  Horst stood spellbound for several minutes, fascinated 
  by its loveliness. For the moment he forgot everything 
  but the scene below him; but presently his empty belly 
  recalled him to the realities of life; so that it was no 
  aesthete that crept silently down toward the plain, but 
  a primitive hunter of the stone age. He followed the 
  stream when he reached the foot of the hills, taking 
  advantage of the cover offered by the trees that bordered 
  it. He thought that he might get a sheep, several of 
  which were grazing close to the fringing trees; but he 
  knew how wary they were and how difficult to stalk. 
  The river wound in great loops, and to save time he 
  took short cuts across the low hillocks which the river 
  skirted in its wide bends like a great serpent gliding 
  smoothly toward the sea. While he was below the sum-
  mits of the hillocks he could not see the sheep, nor they 
  him; yet he moved always cautiously since he never 
  knew what dangers might confront him upon the hill-
  ocks' opposite slopes, for the country was game filled; 
  and where the herbivores are, there also are the flesh 
  eaters. 
  As he topped one little hill he saw that which brought 
  128 
  
   
  him to a sudden halt—a great, hairy mammoth lying 
  upon its side moaning. It lay upon a small level flat be-
  side the river at which was evidently a watering place or 
  a ford, and not its moaning alone proclaimed that it was 
  suffering but the agonized trembling of its huge bulk 
  as well. Notwithstanding the fact that von Horst knew 
  that these mighty beasts might be highly dangerous, 
  there was ordinarily such a sweet placidity in their ap-
  pearance and such a suggestion of dependability and 
  intelligence in their great bulk and dignified mien that 
  he was wont to be lulled into a feeling of security in 
  their presence; and there had been aroused within him 
  a considerable fondness and respect for these shaggy 
  progenitors of the modern elephant. 
  To see one suffering thus filled him with compassion; 
  and though his better judgment warned him against it, 
  he could not resist the urge to approach more closely 
  and investigate; though what he might accomplish was 
  doubtless scarcely more than a nebulous conjecture in 
  his mind. As he came closer the small eyes of the pachy-
  derm discovered him; and it raised its head and 
  trumpeted angrily, but it made no effort to rise. Thus 
  assured that it was helpless, von Horst came close and 
  examined it; and as he did so he discovered numerous 
  sharp pointed splinters of bamboo protruding an inch or 
  so above the surface of the mud in which the beast 
  lay at the river's edge; so that he had to move with great 
  care to avoid stepping on them. 
  Almost immediately he saw the cause of the beast's 
  helplessness and suffering—several of these splinters 
  were imbedded in the sole of each great pad; so that the 
  creature could not stand without suffering extreme 
  agony. It was evident that the sharp stakes had been 
  planted by men; and the purpose of them was quite ap-
  parent; for how more easily could men of the old stone 
  129 
  
   
  age, with their primitive weapons, bring down the giant 
  mammoth and render it helpless that they might dis-
  patch it in safety? 
  The presence o£ the stakes suggested the proximity of 
  men, and von Horst had already had sufficient evidence 
  to convince him that all men in this savage world were 
  enemies; yet, though he looked carefully in all direc-
  tions, he saw no sign that any were about; then he turned 
  his attention once more to the beast and its predicament. 
  If he could remove the splinters and permit the mam-
  moth to arise what might he expect from the pain racked 
  creature? Von Horst ran his fingers through his hair 
  dubiously; then the beast moaned again and so piteously 
  that the man, casting discretion to the winds, decided 
  to do what he could to assuage its suffering. 
  As he started to pick his way among the splinters 
  closer to those huge pads, he realized that the beast 
  would only be impaled upon others the moment it arose 
  after he had removed those that it had already collected; 
  so he set to work to pick the sharpened stakes from the 
  ground over the entire area that they covered, a strip 
  about twenty feet wide across the trail leading to the 
  river; and as he worked, the eyes of the mammoth were 
  on him constantly, watching his every move. 
  As he worked near the great beast's head he noticed a 
  patch of white hair the width of a man's hand growing 
  down the side of the animal's cheek. He had seen many 
  mammoths, but he had never seen one similarly marked. 
  It gave the beast a strange, patriarchal expression, as 
  though he wore an enormous white burnside. Von Horst 
  noted the strange marking casually as he went about his 
  work, but his principal interest was centered on specula-
  tion as to what the gigantic beast would do when it was 
  able to rise. Some of the stakes were planted within reach 
  of the mighty trunk; but the man gathered these, as he 
  130 
  
   
  did the others, apparently unconcerned by the risk he 
  took. And always the little eyes watched his every 
  move, but whether in sullen hate or wary curiosity he 
  could not guess. 
  At length came the time when all the stakes that he 
  could locate had been removed, and the next were those 
  embedded in the great pads. Without a moment's hesita-
  tion von Horst walked to the hind feet of the pachyderm 
  and, one by one, drew out the torturing slivers. Then he 
  moved to the front feet, well within reach of the sinuous 
  trunk and the great, curving tusks. Methodically, he 
  commenced to remove the slivers from the fore pads, the 
  powerful trunk weaving above him like a huge serpent. 
  He felt it touch him, the moist tip of it gliding over his 
  naked body. It encircled him, but he paid no attention 
  to it. He had invited death by a humane gesture, and he 
  was game. The trunk wrapped about his torso—gently, 
  almost caressingly. It did not tighten; it did not interfere 
  with his work; yet he sensed it might close instantly at 
  the slightest false move on his part. Death seemed very 
  close. 
  When he had removed the last sliver he stood slowly 
  erect. For a moment he waited; then, very gently, he 
  laid hold of the trunk and sought to push it from him. 
  There was no resistance. He moved unhurriedly, with 
  great deliberation; yet he was under high nervous strain. 
  At last he stood free and moved slowly away. He did 
  not stop, but continued on along the river in the direction 
  he had been going when he discovered the mammoth. 
  For a moment he was obsessed by a powerful urge to 
  run—to put as much distance between himself and the 
  beast as he could before it regained its feet; but he did 
  not. Instead, he moved on slowly, nonchalantly, casting 
  an occasional glance behind him. 
  The beast lay quiet for a moment; then slowly it com- 
  131 
  
   
  menced to raise its bulk from the ground. Tentatively, it 
  tried bearing its weight on its front feet; and it stood 
  thus for a moment; then it rose and stood with all four 
  feet on the ground. It took a few steps. Evidently its 
  feet did not pain it greatly. It raised its trunk and 
  trumpeted; then it moved off on the trail of the man. 
  At first von Horst argued to himself that it was not 
  following him and that presently it would turn aside and 
  go about its own affairs, but it did not—it came steadily 
  after him at a speed considerably in excess of that at 
  which von Horst was walking. The man shrugged re-
  signedly. What a sentimental fool he had been! He might 
  have known that this savage beast could not feel grati-
  tude. He should have left it alone or put it out of its 
  misery with a single well placed bullet. Now it was too 
  late. Presently it would overtake him and toss him. 
  Such were his thoughts as he walked slowly along the 
  trail. Overtake him it did. The sinuous trunk wrapped 
  suddenly about him and he was lifted from the ground. 
  "This," thought von Horst, "is the end." 
  The mammoth stopped and passed him back to its 
  right side where it placed him on the ground; but it 
  still let its trunk rest lightly about him, holding him fac-
  ing its side; and what von Horst saw there awoke within 
  him a realization of the sagacity of the animal, for this 
  side, upon which it had lain, was thickly studded with 
  bamboo slivers such as he had plucked from his feet. 
  It wished the man to remove them as he had removed 
  those others. 
  Von Horst breathed a sigh of relief as he set about his 
  work, and when it was completed he once again moved 
  on along the trail he had been following. From the tail 
  of an eye he saw the mammoth swing about in its tracks 
  and depart in the opposite direction. In a few moments 
  it was lost to sight. The man felt that he was well out 
  132 
  
   
  of a nasty situation that what he described to himself as 
  maudlin sentimentality had gotten him into. But now 
  that it was well over and he had seen the last of the 
  great beast he was glad that he had gone to its aid. 
  His hunger, momentarily forgotten, manifested itself 
  once more as he started to stalk the sheep again. From 
  the summit of a rise he saw them, and again he was the 
  primitive huntsman of the Pleistocene. Only a cartridge 
  belt and a forty-five differentiated him in appearance 
  from his progenitors of the stone age. From the next 
  rise of ground that he mounted he saw the sheep again, 
  much closer now; but he saw something else, far to the 
  right across the river. At first glance he thought it only a 
  herd of mammoths moving down a gently sloping plain 
  from the foot-hills, coming toward the river; but instantly 
  he recognized the truth—astride the neck of each of the 
  great beasts rode a man. 
  The sight recalled to his memory Thorek, the mam-
  mothman of Ja-ru. These, indeed, must be mammoth-
  men; perhaps the country to which he had wandered 
  was Ja-ru. However, the fact that he had been on 
  friendly terms with Thorek induced no illusions as to 
  the reception he might expect from the savage tribesmen 
  of his erstwhile companion in slavery. Discretion coun-
  selled him to keep out of sight; and so he moved cau-
  tiously down the hill toward a clump of trees that grew 
  beside the river, where, concealed from their view, he 
  could still watch the approach of the company. 
  As he reached the trees he saw the embers of a camp 
  fire still glowing; and his heart leaped in his bosom, for 
  he knew that he was now close on the trail of La-ja and 
  her abductors. Which way had they gone from here? 
  They could not be far, for no matter how much the 
  timelessness of Pellucidar might deceive the mind of 
  man it could not befuddle the laws of combustion—fire 
  133 
  
   
  would consume wood as quickly and embers would re-
  main hot as long here as upon the outer crust and no 
  longer. 
  He hastily examined the ground about the camp site. 
  For the moment the mammoth-men were forgotten in 
  contemplation of the nearness of La-ja and the surge of 
  rage against Frug and Skruf, now almost within reach 
  of his vengeance. He loosened the gun in its holster. 
  He would give no quarter, but would shoot them down 
  as he would a couple of mad dogs; nor was there a ques-
  tion of doubt as to the Tightness of his contemplated act, 
  so easily does man slough the thin veneer of inhibitions 
  with which civilization conceals but does not eradicate 
  primal instincts and characteristics of mankind. There 
  were no laws here for him other than those he made him-
  self. 
  His search revealed the footsteps of those he sought 
  in the soft earth at the river's edge. He recognized them 
  all—the imprints of the great, splay feet of the men, those 
  of La-ja, small and perfect. They led to the river and 
  did not return. By that he knew that they had crossed. 
  He looked in that direction and saw the mammoth-men 
  steadily approaching. They were much nearer now, the 
  long, swinging strides of the mammoths covering ground 
  rapidly. 
  Trees and bushes grew upon the far bank of the river, 
  grew in isolated clumps as though planted by the hand 
  of some master landscape gardener. Between two such 
  clusters of bushes he could still see the mammoth-men, 
  but he could see to no great distance either to the right 
  or left. He wished to cross the river in pursuit of those 
  he sought, but he did not wish to attract the attention 
  of the mammoth-men to him. Cautiously he moved 
  down stream until a clump of bushes on the opposite 
  bank hid him from the view of the approaching warriors; 
  134 
  
   
  then, careless of the possible presence of dangerous 
  reptiles, he plunged into the stream, which was neither 
  wide nor swift. A few powerful strokes carried him to 
  the opposite bank, where he again sought the trail of 
  the trio. Nor did he have far to search, for he found it 
  almost immediately leading out toward the plain where 
  the mammoth-men rode. 
  To follow immediately would be to reveal his presence 
  to the approaching warriors, who could not fail to see 
  him should he expose himself now, as they were not 
  over a quarter of a mile away. They had changed their 
  course slightly and were moving up stream more nearly 
  parallel with the course of the river. Presently they 
  would pass him, and he would be free to continue his 
  search for La-ja. As he waited, he stood partially con-
  cealed behind a bush, only a little of his face showing. 
  Thus he watched the mammoth-men. They were moving 
  steadily upon their course, like soldiers of any age upon 
  the march, the monotony of which lulls even exuberant 
  spirits into quiescence. But suddenly there was a change. 
  A rider looking toward the river suddenly halted his 
  mount and shouted to his fellows, pointing back down 
  stream at something evidently some distance below the 
  point where von Horst was hiding. Simultaneously he 
  started in the direction he had pointed, urging his lum-
  bering mount into a swifter gait; and after him trooped 
  the remainder of the company. 
  Savage, primitive to the degree was the sight of that 
  war-like company to von Horst—extinct men upon ex-
  tinct mounts; animated monuments of savage might. The 
  European was thrilled; and, too, his curiosity was 
  aroused. What had the warrior seen? What were they 
  approaching or pursuing? Risking discovery, von Horst, 
  moved stealthily around the end of the bush that had 
  concealed him, until he could look down the valley in the 
  135 
  
   
  direction the mammoth-men were riding. 
  At first he saw nothing. A tiny hillock, scarcely more 
  than a mound, shut off his view. Assured that the atten-
  tion of the riders was riveted upon whatever quarry 
  lay ahead of them and that they would not notice him, 
  von Horst crept forward to the mound and up its side 
  until he could see beyond its summit. What he saw 
  brought his heart into his mouth. 
  XIII 
  CAPTURED 
  VON HOEST sprang from his concealment and ran out 
  into the open; and as he did so he reached for his gun, 
  but his holster was empty. There was no time to go 
  back and search for the weapon. He recalled loosening 
  it in its holster before he plunged into the river, and 
  now he assumed that it had fallen out at that time. It 
  was a tragic loss; but there was nothing that he could do 
  about it, and that which he saw before him tended to 
  crowd all other considerations into the background. 
  Running toward the river from out upon the plain and 
  pursued now by the mammoth-men were three figures 
  which he instantly recognized as La-ja and her ab-
  ductors. 
  The trees that dotted both sides of the river grew 
  closer together just ahead and formed a little forest to-
  ward which the three were running. Skruf had seized 
  La-ja by a hand and was dragging her along, while Frug 
  brought up the rear. Although La-ja was running it was 
  evident that she was attempting to break loose from 
  Skruf, and Frug was striking at her with a heavy switch 
  in an effort to goad her to greater speed. It seemed 
  136 
  
   
  certain that they would reach the forest ahead of the 
  mammoth-men if nothing delayed them, though by a 
  small margin. Perhaps then they might escape, yet La-ja 
  was trying to delay them. Her only reason, as far as von 
  Horst could imagine, was that she would prefer to be 
  the captive of the mammoth-men than to remain a pris-
  oner of the Bastians. 
  Uppermost in von Horst's mind was the desire to reach 
  the great brute that was striking the girl. Never before 
  in his life had the instinct to kill an enemy so over-
  whelmingly mastered him. He even forgot the menace 
  of the advancing mammoth-men in the heat of his hate 
  and blood lust. 
  He came diagonally upon the three from the side and 
  a little to the rear, but so engrossed were they with one 
  another and their flight that they did not see him until 
  he was almost upon them and had shouted a curt com-
  mand to Frug to stop striking the girl. A new fear was 
  added to the terror already reflected in Skrufs eyes, a 
  new hope leaped to La-ja's, a glad cry to her lips as she 
  voiced the one word, "Von!" What a wealth of relief and 
  hope were expressed in that single monosyllable! Sur-
  prise and rage were in Frug's snarled recognition as he 
  vouchsafed his reply and registered his contempt for the 
  man by striking again at La-ja. And then, just at the edge 
  of the wood, von Horst leaped for him, leaped for his 
  throat; and the two went down, rolling on the flower 
  starred turf in what each hoped was a duel to the death. 
  Both men were powerful; but Frug outweighed his 
  antagonist by thirty pounds, an advantage that, how-
  ever, was offset by von Horst's agility and skill. All that 
  was in the mind of either was to kill the other—every-
  thing else was forgotten. Each fought for a hold upon 
  the other's throat, each struck terrific blows at the other's 
  face. The caveman grunted and cursed; von Horst fought 
  137 
  
   
  in silence. And thus the mammoth-men came upon them, 
  surrounding them. A dozen leaped from their huge 
  mounts and fell upon the two. These, too, were mighty 
  men. They dragged the combatants apart and made 
  them prisoners. 
  It was then that von Horst had an opportunity to look 
  around for La-ja. She was nowhere in sight; neither was 
  Skruf. The chief of the marnmoth-men was looking for 
  them, too; and when he saw that they were missing he 
  sent a party of his men across the river in search of them. 
  The remainder mounted the mammoths after having 
  two of the great beasts swing von Horst and Frug to 
  their heads in front of their riders; then, without waiting 
  for the party that had gone in search of La-ja and Skruf, 
  they set off again in the direction they had been going at 
  the time the discovery of the three had interrupted their 
  march. 
  The mammoth-men appeared very sure of themselves, 
  so much so that they did not even bind their prisoners' 
  hands; which was the equivalent of saying that escape 
  was impossible; nor did von Horst doubt but that such 
  was the case. The leader and some of the others ques-
  tioned him. They asked him his name, from what coun-
  try he came, where he was going. They were gruff, un-
  friendly men; and it was easy to see that they hated all 
  strangers. So accustomed was von Horst to this char-
  acteristic of Pellucidarians that he made no effort to as-
  sure them that he was friendly, reasoning, and rightly, 
  that it would have been a waste of energy and breath. 
  As they moved on up the river they presently dis-
  covered a huge mammoth ahead of them. It was in the 
  open, so that they could not stalk it; but evidently they 
  particularly wished it. 
  "It is he," said one. "I would know him as far as I 
  could see him." 
  138 
  
   
  "The trap did not get him," commented the leader. "He 
  is too wise to be fooled by traps." 
  "What good would he be if we did catch him?" de-
  manded another. "He is an ugly customer. Already he 
  has killed ten men that we know of who hunted him. He 
  could never be trained now, he is too old." 
  "Mamth wishes him," said the leader. "That is enough; 
  Mamth is chief. He will use him in the little canyon. He 
  will give us great sport." 
  The great beast had been moving off across the plain 
  when they first saw him; now he turned and faced them— 
  a huge creature, larger than any of those the mammoth-
  men rode. 
  "It's he all right," said the warrior upon whose mount 
  von Horst rode; "it's Ah Am, Ma Rahna." 
  It was then that von Horst first noticed the great patch 
  of white hair on the animal's left jowl. "Ah Am, Ma 
  Rahna; Old White, The Killer," he mused. The killer! He 
  realized now how foolhardy he had been in approaching 
  the beast at all. The fact that he had not been killed sug-
  gested that the huge creature was not only endowed 
  with great intelligence but with a well developed sense 
  of gratitude. Only thus could he account for his being 
  still alive. 
   The leader of the band issued some instructions, and 
  the party spread out and started to circle Old White, 
  which remained facing them, making no effort to es-
  cape. 
  "Trog's going to try to drive him," remarked the war-
  rior with von Horst. "If he can bring in Ah Am he will 
  be a great man." 
  "Can he?" asked von Horst. 
  The warrior shrugged. "The sun-bleached bones of 
  ten warriors are a better answer than any living tongue 
  can offer." 
  139 
  
   
  Slowly the warriors drew around behind Ah Ara in a 
  half circle; then they closed and moved forward. In the 
  meantime the quarry had turned again to face them. 
  His little eyes gleamed, his trunk weaved slowly to and 
  fro as he rocked his head from side to side. The warriors 
  commenced to shout and wave their spears. They came 
  closer. It seemed incredible that the animal did not turn 
  and break for freedom; but it did not—Ah Ara stood his 
  ground. 
  Suddenly he raised his trunk and, with a loud scream, 
  charged. Straight for the center of the line he came—a 
  solid line, for the mammoths were touching side to side. 
  He lowered his head; and when he struck, two mam-
  moths were knocked down. As he passed over them he 
  seized one of the riders and hurled him fifty feet; then, as 
  he passed over him, he trampled him. After that he ap-
  peared to pay no more attention to the party, but moved 
  on majestically in the direction he had been going before 
  the interruption. It seemed to von Horst that his whole 
  manner screamed contempt for the man-things that had 
  dared to delay him. 
  Trog shook his head ruefully and turned toward the 
  river. The two felled mammoths came to their feet—one 
  of them was riderless, but he followed on with the 
  others. No one paid any attention to the mangled warrior 
  lying on the plain. Perhaps he was dead, but he may not 
  have been. It was evident to von Horst that these men 
  held human life lightly and that they were without com-
  passion. He wondered if Thorek would recall that he had 
  suggested that they be friends should they meet again, 
  for it was possible that he might meet him now that he 
  was a prisoner of Thorek's fellows. Prompted by this 
  recollection of the man who had escaped from the Bas-
  tians with him he turned toward the warrior riding be-
  hind him. 
  140 
  
   
  "Do you know Thorek?" he asked. 
  "Yes; what do you know of him?" 
  "We are friends." 
  The warrior laughed. "No stranger is friend to a mam-
  moth-man," he said. 
  "Did Thorek return from Basti?" asked von Horst. 
  "No," and then suddenly, "What is your name?" 
  "Von. If Thorek were here he would tell you that we 
  are friends." 
  "Well, perhaps Thorek was your friend; but no other 
  mammoth-man will be. Friendship for a stranger is 
  weakness in a warrior. Strangers are to be killed; that is 
  why they are strangers. If there were no strangers there 
  would be no one to kill except one another, and that 
  would not be good for the tribe. We would soon kill 
  each other off. Men must fight and kill; it is the life blood 
  of warriors." 
  Presently they came to the river and crossed it, keep-
  ing slightly above the regular ford; then Trog and some 
  of the others dismounted and examined the ground in 
  the trail leading in to the river. Von Horst watched them 
  with amusement, for he recognized the spot well. He 
  saw that the men were surprised and angry at what they 
  discovered. 
  "Ah Ara has been down here," exclaimed Trog. "There 
  is blood here; but where are the stakes? They have all 
  been removed." 
  "I saw mud and blood on the right side of Ah Ara as 
  he passed close to me when he charged through our 
  line," volunteered a warrior. 
  "Yes; he was down here," growled Trog. "We had him, 
  but how could he have escaped?" 
  "He is very old and very wise," said one. 
  "He could never be old enough or wise enough to pick 
  the splinters from his pads and his side, to pick them 
  141 
  
   
  all out of the ground," remonstrated Trog. "That could 
  only be done by a man." 
  "Here are the foot-prints of a man," exclaimed a 
  warrior. 
  "But who would dare approach Ah Ara and take the 
  splinters from him? Had a man done that we should 
  find his body close by." Trog shook his head. "I do not 
  understand." 
  They found the splinters where von Horst had tossed 
  them aside, and they set them out again with great care' 
  and well concealed upon the opposite side of the river; 
  then they mounted and rode back toward the hills from 
  which they had been coming when von Horst first 
  sighted them. 
  "Well get him yet," remarked von Horst's warrior. 
  "How?" asked the European. 
  "When he gets splinters in his feet the pain is so great 
  that he cannot stand; the pads of a tandor are thick, 
  but they are very sensitive. When we come back and 
  find him down we put heavy thongs of mammoth hide 
  about his neck. These are fastened to three mammoths 
  on each side of him, mammoths trained for this work; 
  then we take the splinters from the ground around him 
  and from his pads and let him get up. After that it is 
  easy. The six mammoths drag him until he tires of being 
  choked. After that he will follow quietly." 
  "Will you ever be able to train Ah Ara, provided you 
  get him?" asked von Horst. 
  The warrior shook his head. "He would never be safe. 
  Mamth will put him in the little canyon, and he will 
  afford us much amusement." 
  "In what way?" 
  The warrior looked at von Horst and grinned. "I 
  think you will find out soon enough," he said. 
  142 
  
   
  After the party reached the foothills it followed a 
  well worn trail that led up to a wide plateau upon which 
  several mighty canyons debouched from the mountains 
  beyond. The plateau was covered with lush grasses and 
  was crossed by several streams that issued from the 
  mouths of the canyons, into one of which Trog led his 
  savage troop. The grandeur of the scenerey within the 
  canyon was impressive, and to such an extent that for 
  the moment von Horst almost forgot the hopelessness of 
  his situation. Within its narrow mouth the canyon 
  widened into a lovely valley walled by precipitous 
  cliffs that were broken occasionally by the narrow 
  mouths of smaller canyons. A stream flowed through the 
  bed of the canyon, trees and flowering shrubs grew in 
  profusion, fish leaped in the river, and birds of weird, 
  prehistoric shapes and coloration flew from tree to tree. 
  Von Horst sighed. "What a lovely place," he thought, 
  "if only La-ja and I were here alone." 
  La-jal What had become of her? Had she escaped from 
  Skruf, or was she still his captive? She would have 
  been better off here among the mammoth-men, or at 
  least no worse off; for no one could have been more 
  repugnant to her than Skruf. At least, were she here, she 
  would have had one friend whom she might trust even 
  though he were unable to do anything for her. 
  Von Horst sighed. He had a premonition that he 
  would never again see La-ja, and it suddenly occurred to 
  him that this strange world was going to be a very much 
  more terrible place to live in because of that. He realized 
  that something had gone out of his life that nothing 
  could replace. Perhaps it hurt his pride to admit it even 
  to himself, for the girl had certainly given him sufficient 
  proof on numerous occasions that he meant nothing 
  whatever to her; yet he could not forget the pathetic 
  143 
  
   
  longing note in her voice when she had recognized 
  him and called to him just before the mammoth-men 
  had separated them forever. 
  Depressed by this sad reverie, his future fate seemed 
  to mean nothing to him. He did not care what the 
  mammoth-men did to him. The sooner it was over, the 
  better. Without a single companion for whom he cared, 
  he might as well be dead as alive; for there was no 
  chance that he might ever return to the outer world, nor 
  little more that he would find Sari should he escape from 
  his present predicament. 
  While he was occupied by these unhappy thoughts the 
  troop turned into one of the smaller canyons, and shortly 
  thereafter he saw the caves of the mammoth-men pitting 
  the face of the lofty cliff ahead. A considerable number 
  of men, women, and children were on the ground at the 
  foot of the cliff where a grove of trees offered shelter 
  from the noonday sun. Some of the women busied them-
  selves around cooking fires; others were fashioning 
  sandals or loin cloths. Men chipped laboriously at stone 
  weapons in the making, scraped spear shafts into shape, 
  or merely loafed at ease. At sight of the returning troop, 
  they quit whatever had been occupying them and clus-
  tered about to inspect the prisoners and exchange gossip 
  with the arriving warriors. 
  Trog looked very important. "Where is Mamth?" he 
  demanded. 
  "He is in his cave, sleeping," said a woman. 
  "Go and awaken him," commanded Trog. 
  "Go yourself," replied the woman; "I do not wish to be 
  killed." 
  Trog, who, with the other warriors of his party, had 
  dismounted, was standing near the woman; and at her 
  refusal he swung his spear quickly and felled her with 
  144 
  
   
  the haft, knocking her unconscious; then he turned to 
  another woman. "Go and awaken Mamth," he said. 
  The woman laughed in his face. "Guva has no man," 
  she said, "but I have. You will not knock me down with 
  your spear. You would not have knocked Guva down if 
  she had had one. Go and awaken Mamth yourself." 
  "I am not afraid of your man," blustered Trog. 
  "Then why don't you knock me down," taunted the 
  woman, "for I am not going to awaken Mamth." 
  The crowd gathered about commenced to laugh at 
  Trog, adding to his discomfiture and his rage. He stood 
  there, red in the face, swinging his spear to and fro 
  and looking from one to another of them. 
  "What are you looking for?" demanded the woman, 
  "—widows and orphans?" 
  "You will pay for this," growled Trog; then his eyes 
  alighted on von Horst. "Go and awaken Mamth," he 
  commanded. 
  The European grinned. "Where is he?" he asked. 
  Trog pointed to a cave entrance part way up the cliff. 
  "He is in there," he growled. "Get along with you!" He 
  swung his spear, striking at von Horst. The prisoner 
  dodged, and seizing the weapon wrenched it from Trog's 
  grasp; then he broke it across his knee and flung it on the 
  ground at the mammoth-man's feet. 
  "I am neither a woman nor a child," he said; and, 
  turning, started toward the cliff and Mamth's cave, in 
  his ears the shouts and laughter of the tribesmen. 
  "I kill!" shouted Trog, and started after him, drawing 
  his stone knife. 
  Von Horst wheeled and waited the mad charge of 
  the mammoth-man. Trog approached him at a run, 
  brandishing his knife above his shoulder. When he 
  struck, von Horst seized his wrist, turned quickly, 
  stooped low and, drawing the man's arm across his 
  145 
  
   
  shoulder, hurled him over his head and heavily to the 
  ground; then he continued on his way to the foot of the 
  cliff and up the rude ladders that led to Mamth's cave. 
  Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Trog still lying 
  where he had fallen, apparently insensible, while the 
  crowd laughed uproariously, evidencing to von Horst 
  that his act had not prejudiced them against him and, 
  also, that Trog did not appear to be overly popular. 
  He wondered just how popular he himself would be 
  with Mamth when he awakened him, for he had gath-
  ered from what he had just heard that Mamth did not 
  relish being awakened from his sleep; and he had seen 
  just how primitive these people were and how little 
  control they had of their tempers—like primitive people 
  everywhere, even those who were supposed to be civi-
  lized and yet had primitive minds. When at last he came 
  to the mouth of the cave he looked in, but he could see 
  nothing, because of the darkness of the interior. He 
  shouted Mamth's name in a loud voice and waited. There 
  was no response. The laughter below had ceased. The 
  watchers were waiting in tense expectancy the result of 
  his temerity. 
  Von Horst shouted again, this time more loudly; and 
  this time there was a response—a bull-like bellow and 
  the sound of movement within. Then a perfect mountain 
  of a man emerged from the cave, his hair dishevelled, 
  his beard awry, his eyes sleep bleared and bloodshot. 
  When he saw von Horst he stopped in amazement. 
  "Who are you?" he demanded. "Why did you awaken 
  Mamth? Do you wish to be killed?" 
  "I am a prisoner," replied von Horst. "Trog sent me to 
  awaken you because he was afraid to do it himself; and 
  as for being killed, that is probably what I was taken 
  prisoner for." 
  146 
  
   
  "Trog sent you, did he?" demanded Mamth. "Where 
  is he?" 
  Von Horst pointed toward the foot of the cliff where 
  Trog still lay. Mamth looked down. 
  "What is the matter with him?" 
  "He tried to kill me with a dagger," explained the 
  prisoner. 
  "And you killed him?" 
  "I don't think so. He is probably merely stunned." 
  "What did he wish of me?" 
  "He wished to show you the two prisoners he brought 
  in. I am one of them." 
  "He disturbed my sleep for that!" grumbled Mamth. 
  "Now I cannot get to sleep again." He pointed to the 
  ladder. "Go down." 
  Von Horst did as he was bid, and Mamth followed 
  him. When they reached the ground Trog was regaining 
  consciousness. Mamth went and stood over him. 
  "So-ho!" he exclaimed. "So you were afraid to come 
  and awaken Mamth, but you sent a prisoner who might 
  have sneaked into the cave and killed Mamth in his 
  sleep. You are a fool. And you let the prisoner knock 
  the wits from your head. You are a fine one to be sub-
  chief. What happened?" 
  "He must have hit me over the head with a big rock 
  when I wasn't looking," said Trog. 
  "He did not," cried a woman. "Trog was going to hit 
  the prisoner with his spear. The prisoner took Trog's 
  spear from him and broke it in two. There it lies. Then 
  Trog tried to kill the prisoner with his knife. The pris-
  oner picked Trog up and threw him over his head." 
  A number of them commenced to laugh as the woman 
  recalled the events, but they did not laugh so loudly in 
  the presence of Mamth. 
  The chief looked searchingly at von Horst. "So you 
  147 
  
   
  broke Trog's spear and then threw him over your head!" 
  he exclaimed. "Where is the other prisoner?" 
  "Here," said one of the warriors guarding Frug. 
  Mamth looked at the Bastian. "He is even bigger than 
  the other," he said. "They should furnish us good sport in 
  the little canyon. Take them away. Gorph, take this one 
  to your cave and see that he does not escape." He jerked 
  a thumb toward von Horst. "Truth, you take charge of 
  the other. Have them ready when Mamth wishes them. 
  Trog, you are no longer a sub-chief. Mamth will appoint 
  a better man." 
  XIV 
  "HE DIES!" 
  GORPH WAS A short, stocky, middle-aged man with a 
  wealth of whiskers and small, close-set eyes. Von Horst 
  judged him a mean customer even before the fellow gave 
  any indication of his true nature, which he was not long 
  in doing; for as soon as Mamth indicated that he was to 
  take over the prisoner he stepped up to von Horst, seized 
  him roughly by the shoulder and gave him a push toward 
  the foot of the cliff and the nearest ladder. 
  "Get along!" he growled, "and be quick about it." 
  Then, without other reason than pure brutality, he 
  prodded his prisoner in the back with the point of his 
  spear—a vicious jab that brought blood. Resentment and 
  rage flared in the breast of the man from the outer crust, 
  the sudden pain goading him to instant action. He 
  wheeled and crouched. Gorph, sensing attack, jabbed 
  at him again with his spear; but von Horst pushed the 
  weapon aside and leaped close, pinioning the mammoth- 
  148 
  
   
  man's head beneath his right arm; then he commenced 
  to spin, faster and faster. Gorph's feet left the ground, 
  his body whirled, almost horizontal, in a flattening circle; 
  von Horst released his hold and sent the fellow spinning 
  to the ground. 
  Mamth broke into a loud guffaw, which was echoed 
  by the other spectators. Gorph staggered dizzily to his 
  feet; but before he was fully erect von Horst clamped 
  the same hold upon him, and once again whirled and 
  threw him. When Gorph arose this time, dizzy and be-
  fuddled, the other was standing over him. His fists were 
  clenched, one arm was back ready to deliver a blow to 
  the bewhiskered chin that would have put the mammoth-
  man out for good; but then his rage left him as suddenly 
  as it had come. 
  "The next time you try anything like that on me, 
  Gorph, I'll kill you," he said. "Pick up your spear and go 
  along. I'll follow." 
  He had given no thought as to what the reaction of the 
  other mammoth-men might be to his attack upon one of 
  their fellows; nor had he cared; but their laughter as-
  sured him that they had enjoyed the discomfiture of 
  Gorph, as they would probably enjoy the discomfiture of 
  any creature. Gorph stood for a moment, hesitant. He 
  heard the laughter and the taunts of his fellows. He was 
  trembling with rage; but he looked at the man who had 
  bested him, standing there waiting to best him again; 
  and his courage proved unequal to his anger. 
  He stepped over to retrieve his spear, and as he passed 
  von Horst he spoke in a low tone of voice. "I'll kill you 
  yet," he said. 
  The European shrugged and followed him. Gorph 
  walked to a ladder and started to ascend. "See that 
  nothing happens to him, Gorph," shouted Mamth. "Hell 
  be a good one for the little canyon." 
  149 
  
  "You see," remarked von Horst, "that between Mamth 
  and me it'll be best for your health that you treat me 
  well." 
  Gorph mumbled in his beard as he climbed to the 
  third tier of caves, von Horst following him upward. 
  Here the mammoth-man followed the wide ledge to 
  the right and stopped before a large entrance in which 
  squatted three women. One was middle-aged, the other 
  two much younger. Of these, she who appeared to be 
  the elder was short and squat like Gorph, an unpre-
  possessing girl with a sinister countenance. Their only 
  clothing was scanty loin-cloths. 
  "Who is that?" demanded the woman. 
  "Another mouth to feed," grumbled Gorph; "one of 
  the prisoners that Trog brought in. We keep him and 
  guard him, but if he falls off the cliff it will not be my 
  fault." 
  The elder of the two girls grinned. "He might," she 
  said. 
  The man walked to the younger girl and kicked her. 
  "Get me food," he growled, "and be quick about it." 
  The girl winced and scurried into the cave. Gorph 
  squatted beside the other two women. The elder was 
  fashioning a pair of sandals with soles of mammoth-hide; 
  the other just sat staring vacantly at nothing. 
  Gorph eyed her, scowling. "How much longer shall I 
  have to hunt for you, Gram?" demanded Gorph. "Why 
  don't you get a man? Won't any of them have you?" 
  "Shut up," growled Grum. "If they won't have me it's 
  because I look like you—because I am like you. If you'd 
  been a woman you'd never have had a mate. I hate you." 
  Gorph leaned over and struck her in the face. "Get out 
  of here!" he cried; "go get yourself a man." 
  "Leave her alone," said the older woman wearily. 
  150 
  
   
  "Keep out of this," warned Gorph, "or 111 kick your 
  ribs in." 
  The woman sighed. 
  "That is all that Mumal does," sneered Grum. "She 
  just sits and sighs—she and that monkey-faced Lotai. 
  Sometimes I could kill them both." 
  "You are a bad daughter," said Mumal. "The time that 
  I bore you was a bad time indeed." 
  "Get out!" growled Gorph. "I told you to get out." He 
  pointed a stubby finger at Grum. 
  "Try to put me out," snapped the girl. "I'd scratch out 
  your eyes. Get me a man. If you were any good you'd 
  get men for both your daughters. You're a coward. You're 
  afraid to fight men for us." 
  "If I ever made a man marry you he'd sneak up behind 
  me in the woods the first chance he got and kill me." 
  "I'd help him," said Grum. 
  "Lotai!" bellowed Gorph. "Where is the food?" 
  "Coming!" called the girl from the interior of the cave, 
  and a moment later she came with a handful of dried 
  meat. She tossed it on the ground in front of Gorph and 
  backed away to the far corner of the entrance, where she 
  sat in huddled misery. 
  Gorph attacked the meat like a ravenous wolf, break-
  ing off great hunks between his powerful teeth and. 
  swallowing them whole. 
  "Water!" he snapped, when he had finished. 
  The girl called Lotai arose and hurried back into the 
  cave. A moment later she returned with a gourd which 
  she handed to Gorph. 
  "That is all," she said; "there is no more water." 
  Gorph gulped it down and arose. "I am going to sleep 
  now," he said. "I'll kill anyone who awakens me. Mumal, 
  you and Grum go for water. Lotai, watch the prisoner. 
  If he tries to escape, scream; and I'll come out and—" 
  151 
  
   
  "And what?" inquired von Horst. 
  "Do as I told you," said Gorph to the women, ignoring 
  von Horst's query; then he lumbered into the cave. 
  The two older women followed him, returning shortly 
  each with a large gourd; then they descended the ladders 
  on their way for water. Von Horst looked at the young 
  girl who had been left to guard him. Now that the others 
  had gone the strained expression that had clouded her 
  face had disappeared, and she was more beautiful than 
  before. 
  "Happy family," he remarked. 
  She looked at him questioningly. "Do you think so?" 
  she asked. "Perhaps the others are happy, though they 
  do not seem so. I know that I am not." 
  Once again von Horst was faced with the literal-
  mindedness of the stone age. He was reminded of La-ja. 
  "I was only laughing with words," he explained. 
  "Oh," she said, "I see. You do not really think that 
  we are happy?" 
  "Is it always like this?" he demanded. 
  "Sometimes it is worse; but when Mumal and I are 
  alone, we are happy. Grum hates me because I am pretty 
  and she is not; Gorph hates everyone. I think he even 
  hates himself." 
  "It is strange that you have no mate," said von Horst; 
  "you are very good-looking." 
  "No man will take me because he would have to take 
  Grum, too, if Gorph insisted—that is a law of the 
  mammoth-men. You see, she is older than I; and should 
  have a man first." 
  "What did Grum mean when she said that Gorph was 
  afraid to fight men for you?" 
  "If we picked out men that we wanted they would 
  have to take us if Gorph fought them and won; but I 
  would not wish a man that way. I would wish my man to 
  152 
  
   
  want me so much that he would fight to get me." 
  "And that is the only way that Grum could get a 
  mate?" asked von Horst. 
  "Yes, because she has no brother to fight for her, nor 
  any friend to do it for her." 
  "You mean that any man who would fight for her could 
  get her a mate?" 
  "Why, yes; but who would do it?" 
  "A friend might," he said; "or any man who wanted 
  you badly enough." 
  She shook her head. "It is not so easy as that. If a man 
  who was not her father or brother fought for her and 
  lost, he would have to take her. And Grum has made it 
  even worse by choosing Horg as the man she wishes to 
  mate with. No one could defeat Horg. He is the biggest 
  and strongest man in the tribe." 
  "Rather a precarious method of getting a mate," 
  mused von Horst. "If your man is vanquished, you get 
  him; but you may get a corpse." 
  "No," she explained. "They fight with bare hands until 
  one of them gives up. Sometimes they are badly hurt, 
  but seldom is any one killed." 
  They sat in silence for a while, the girl watching the 
  man intently. Von Horst was thinking of La-ja and 
  wondering what fate had befallen her. He was sad in the 
  knowledge that she had passed out of his life forever— 
  the haughty, imperious little slave girl who hated him. 
  He wondered if she really did hate him. There were 
  times when he doubted that she did. He shook his head. 
  Who could ever understand a woman? 
  Lotai stirred. "What is your name?" she asked. 
  "Von," he replied. 
  "I think you are a very nice man," she said. 
  "Thank you. I think you are a very nice girl." 
  "You are not like any man I have ever seen before. I 
  153 
  
   
  think you are a man that I would trust. You would never 
  beat me. You would always be kind, and you would talk 
  to me as men talk to men. That is something our men 
  never do. At first, maybe, they are nice; but soon they 
  only speak to give orders or to scold. 
  "Oh, some of them are not so bad as others," she 
  added. "I think that Gorph, my father, is the worst. He 
  is very bad. He never says a pleasant word to any of us, 
  and he is worse with me than with the others. He beats 
  me and kicks me. I think that he hates me. But that is all 
  right, because I hate him. 
  "There was one very nice man. I liked him, but he 
  went away and never came back. He must be dead. He 
  was a big man and a great warrior; but he was kind to 
  women and children, and he laughed and was pleasant. 
  The women would all have liked him for a mate, but he 
  never would take a mate to live always in his cave. 
  Thorek was different that way." 
  "Thorek?" exclaimed von Horst. "He did not come 
  back to Ja-ru?" 
  "You know him?" asked Lotai. 
  "We were prisoners of the Bastians, and we escaped 
  together. We were friends. He should have been here 
  before this. Since we parted I have travelled far and slept 
  many times. Something must have happened to him." 
  The girl sighed. "He was such a nice man; but then, 
  what difference does it make? He was not for me. I will 
  get a mate like Gorph and be kicked and beaten the rest 
  of my life." 
  "The women of Ja-ru have a hard time of it, I should 
  say," remarked von Horst. 
  "Not all of them. Only those like Mumal and myself. 
  Some of them are big and strong and like to fight. If 
  they are kicked, they kick back. These have a happy 
  time. Mumal and I are different. She is not of Ja-ru. 
  154 
  
   
  Gorph stole her from another tribe. I am like her, and 
  Grum is like Gorph. We would run away and go back 
  to my mother's country; but it is very far, and the 
  dangers are great. We would be killed long before we 
  got to Sari." 
  "Sari," mused von Horst. "That is the country that 
  Dangar came from. That is where I should like to go 
  when I escape from here." 
  "You will never escape," said Lotai. "You will go 
  into the little canyon, and you will never come out." 
  "What is this little canyon I have heard so much 
  about?" demanded the man. 
  "You will find out soon enough. Here come Mumal and 
  Grum with the water. We must not talk together too 
  much in front of Grum and Gorph. If they thought that 
  I was friendly with a prisoner they would kick me and 
  beat me all the more." 
  The two women came into view up the ladder from 
  below, each balancing a heavy gourd of water on her 
  head. Mumal looked tired and dejected. Grum was hot 
  and irritable, her evil face twisted in a black frown. She 
  paused in the entrance to the cave. 
  "I am going to sleep," she said. "See that you don't 
  make any noise;" then she entered the cave. 
  Mumal stooped and stroked Lotai's hair as she passed. 
  "I too am going to sleep, little one," she said. 
  "I should like to sleep myself," remarked Lotai after 
  the others had entered the cave. 
  "why don't you?" asked von Horst. 
  "I have to watch you." 
  "I'll promise not to go away while you are guarding 
  me," he assured her. "Go in and sleep. I'd like to myself." 
  She looked at him intently for a long time before she 
  spoke. "I believe that you would not try to escape if you 
  told me you would not," she said, "but if Gorph found 
  155 
  
   
  you out here while I was asleep in the cave it would be 
  just as bad for me as though you had escaped. If you 
  will go in though and not come out while I am sleeping 
  it will be safe. We can go into a far corner of the 
  cave and sleep, and then they won't bother us." 
  Von Horst was very tired, and he must have slept a 
  long time. When he awoke, Lotai was not there. He 
  found her with the others on the ledge before the cave. 
  They were eating jerked venison, washing it down with 
  great draughts of water. Gorph and Grum ate noisily, 
  like beasts. 
  No one offered von Horst food. It lay in a little pile on 
  a piece of skin in which it had been wrapped, filthy 
  looking and malodorous; but it was food, and von Horst 
  was famished. He walked over to it where it lay close to 
  Gorph, and stooped to take some. As he did so Gorph 
  struck his hand away. 
  "This fine food is not for slaves," he growled. "Go to 
  the back of the cave and get the scraps and the bones 
  that are there." 
  From the vile odor that he had noticed in the cave, 
  von Horst could surmise the nature of the food that was 
  intended for him, food that only actual starvation could 
  drive him to eat. He knew that his future life with these 
  people, however short or however long it might be, 
  would depend largely upon the attitude that he took at 
  this time. He reached again for the food; and again 
  Gorph struck at his hand, but this time von Horst seized 
  the fellow's wrist, jerked him to his feet, and struck him 
  a heavy blow on the jaw. Gorph dropped in his tracks. 
  Von Horst gathered up a handful of the venison, picked 
  up a gourd of water and crossed to the opposite side of 
  the entrance where Mumal and Lotai sat wide eyed and 
  trembling. There he sat down and commenced to eat. 
  156 
  
   
  Grum had not spoken, and now she sat with her eyes 
  upon von Horst; but what was passing in the dark 
  convolutions of that savage brain none might guess. Was 
  she filled with rage that a stranger had struck down 
  her father? Was she selfishly resentful that he had taken 
  food? Or was she secretly admiring his courage, strength, 
  and skill? 
  Presently consciousness returned to Gorph. He opened 
  his eyes and raised himself on one elbow. He looked 
  puzzled, and was evidently trying to gather the threads 
  of what had transpired. He stared at von Horst and the 
  venison he was eating. Presently he rubbed his jaw, feel-
  ing of it gingerly as though to discover if it were broken; 
  then he fell to eating. During all that had transpired 
  no one had spoken; but von Horst was satisfied—he 
  knew that he would not again be denied food and 
  needed no verbal assurance of the fact. 
  The endless Pellucidarian day dragged on. Von Horst 
  ate and slept. Gorph hunted, sometimes returning with 
  the carcass of a kill or cuts from those he had hunted 
  with companions, sometimes empty handed. Von Horst 
  saw parties of mammoth-men come and go on their huge 
  mounts. He talked with Lotai and with Mumal. Occa-
  sionally Grum joined in the conversations, but more often 
  she sat in silence staring at von Horst. 
  The man wondered what his fate was to be and when 
  he would know. The timelessness of Pellucidar offered 
  no standard for the measurement of duration. It was this 
  fact, he judged, that made the Pellucidarians seem so 
  often to be dilatory. "Immediately" here might encompass 
  the passage of an hour or a day of the outer crust's solar 
  time or, conceivably, a much longer period. Perhaps 
  Mamth thought that he was handling the fate of the two 
  prisoners with dispatch, but to von Horst it seemed an 
  eternity. He had never seen Frug since they had been 
  157 
  
   
  separated at the foot of the cliff, and if he never saw him 
  again it would be far too soon. 
  On one occasion von Horst was sitting on the ledge 
  before the entrance to the cave thinking of La-ja, as he 
  often did, and wondering if she still lived. He was alone, 
  for Gorph was hunting, Mumal and Lotai had gone up 
  the canyon for a potato-like tuber, and Grum was asleep 
  in the cave. He was enjoying the solitude, free from the 
  scolding and cruelty of the family when either Grum or 
  Gorph were present. He was day-dreaming, recalling 
  pleasant memories, conjuring the faces and figures of 
  friends of by-gone days—friends that he would never see 
  again; but the thought did not make him particularly 
  sad. It was good to recall the happier events of the past. 
  His reveries were interrupted by the shuffling of san-
  daled feet within the cave. Grum was awake. Presently 
  she came out on the ledge. She stood looking at him 
  intently for a moment. 
  "You would make me a good mate," she said. "I want 
  you." 
  Von Horst laughed. "What makes you think I would 
  make a good mate?" he asked. 
  "I saw the way you handled Gorph," she replied. "I 
  was told what you did to Trog. I want you for my mate." 
  "But I am a stranger and a prisoner. I think I've 
  heard one of you say that your women couldn't mate 
  with the men of other tribes." 
  "I will see Mamth about that. Perhaps he would con-
  sent. You would make a good warrior for Mamth." 
  Von Horst stretched comfortably and grinned. He felt 
  quite safe. "Mamth would never give his consent," he 
  said. 
  "Then we will run away," announced Grum. "I am 
  tired of living here. I hate them all." 
  "You've got it all figured out, haven't you?" 
  158 
  
   
  "I have. It is all settled," replied Gram. 
  "But suppose I don't want you for a mate?" he inquired. 
  "It will be better than death," she reminded him. "If 
  you stay here you will go to your death in the little 
  canyon." 
  "We could not escape. If escape had been possible, I 
  would have been gone long since. I have constantly 
  watched for my chance." 
  "We can escape," said Gram. "I know a way that you 
  do not know of." 
  "How about Horg?" he asked. "I thought you wanted 
  Horg." 
  "I do, but I can't get him." 
  "If I helped you to get Horg, would you help me to 
  escape?" he asked, as an idea suddenly developed in his 
  mind. 
  "How could you get Horg for me?" 
  "I have an idea that I could. If we could go to Mamth 
  together, and you asked him to let me be your mate, he 
  would refuse; then I could explain the plan I have that 
  would get Horg for you. I think he would like it." 
  "Will you do it?" she demanded. 
  "Will you help me escape?" 
  "Yes," she promised. 
  As they talked, von Horst saw a party of mammoth-
  men returning to the village on their huge mounts. They 
  came with shouts and laughter, like conquering warriors; 
  and there was one among them riding double behind 
  another warrior, who was surrounded by a great crowd 
  of jabbering, gesticulating natives as soon as he dis-
  mounted. The man from the outer crust watched them 
  with but little interest and only casual curiosity. He could 
  not know the cause of their exultation. 
  Shortly after the return of the warriors, von Horst no-
  ticed considerable activity in the grove at the foot of the 
  159 
  
   
  cliff. Cooking fires were being built on the ground, 
  which was unusual, as most of the cooking was done by 
  individual families on the ledges before their caves. 
  "There is going to be a karoo" said Grum. "We shall 
  all go down and have much to eat and drink." 
  "What is a karoo?" he asked. It was a word he had not 
  heard before. 
     Grum explained that it was a feast and celebration in 
  honor of some noteworthy event, in which all of the 
  members of the tribe joined. She did not know the reason 
  for this karoo, but judged that it was to celebrate some-
  thing important that the returning party had accom-
  plished. 
  "We can't go down until Gorph returns or Mamth 
  sends for us," she said, "because my orders are to remain 
  here and watch you; but when Gorph comes he will take 
  you down, as otherwise one of us would have to remain 
  here with you and miss the celebration. You are a nui-
  sance. I wish you were dead." 
  "Then you wouldn't get Horg," he reminded her. 
  "I won't get him anyway. There is nothing that you can 
  do to get him for me. Ill have to take you instead, but 
  you're not the man that Horg is. Wait until you see him. 
  Compared with you he is as the tandor is to the thag; 
  and, besides, he has a mighty beard. His face is not as 
  yours, smooth like a woman's. Always you are scraping 
  off your beard with the strange, shiny knife that you 
  carry." 
  Presently Lotai and Mumal returned to the cave, to be 
  followed shortly by Gorph. The man carried the carcass 
  of an antelope he had killed; the women, a supply of 
  tubers; and after they had deposited these things in the 
  cave Gorph ordered them all to descend to the ground. 
  Here there was a considerable gathering, several hun-
  dred men, women, and children, comprising von Horst 
  160 
  
   
  concluded, the entire membership of the tribe. There 
  was much talking and laughing—a holiday spirit seemed 
  to possess the gathering, making a strange contrast to 
  their usual demeanor. The strange warrior was still sur-
  rounded by such a large crowd that von Horst did not 
  catch a glimpse of him at first. Little attention was paid 
  to the prisoners as Frug squatted disconsolately with his 
  back to the bole of a tree, while von Horst stood watch-
  ing with interest the largest concourse of really primitive 
  people that he had ever seen. 
  Presently Mamth discovered him. "Come here!" he 
  shouted; then, he turned to the warrior who seemed the 
  center of attraction. "Here's a prisoner such as no man 
  ever saw before. Take a look at him. He has a face as 
  smooth as a woman's and yellow hair. He tossed Trog 
  and Gorph around as though they were babies. Come 
  here you!" he again commanded von Horst. 
  As the prisoner approached, the warrior pushed his 
  way through the crowd to see him; and a moment later 
  they stood face to face. 
  "Thorek!" exclaimed von Horst. 
  "Well! Well!" roared the mammoth-man. "It is Von or 
  I'm a jalok. So this is the man who tossed Trog and 
  Gorph around? I am not surprised. I can toss either of 
  them, and he tossed me." 
  "You know him?" demanded Mamth. 
  "Know him? We are friends. Together we escaped 
  from Basti, taking the slaves with us." 
  "Friends!" exclaimed Mamth. "He is a stranger. Mam-
  moth-men do not make friends of strangers." 
  "I did, and he made a good friend," retorted Thorek. 
  "Because of that he should have the friendship of all 
  mammoth-men. He is a great warrior, and should be 
  allowed to live with us and take a mate from among our 
  161 
  
   
  women; or he should be permitted to go his way un-
  molested." 
  The heavy visage of Mamth was furrowed by a black 
  scowl. "No!" he shouted. "He is a stranger and an enemy, 
  and he dies as should all the enemies of the mammoth-
  men. Mamth has been saving him for the little canyon. 
  When Mamth is ready, he goes there. Mamth has spo-
  ken." 
  XV 
  THE BRIDEGROOM 
  THE SENTENCE of death had been pronounced; but von 
  Horst was not shocked, because he was not surprised. 
  He had known all along that death in some form would 
  end his captivity if he did not escape. When it would 
  come, in this timeless world, could not be even a matter 
  of conjecture. Thorek was angry; but he could do noth-
  ing to save his friend, because Mamth was chief and his 
  word law. He sulked and grumbled beneath his breath, 
  but when the feast started he fell to with the rest and 
  soon apparently forgot his grievance in enjoyment of 
  food and drink. Von Horst and Frug were permitted to 
  join in the celebration; and after a taste of the brew 
  that was being served, von Horst concluded that it would 
  not require much of it to cause a man to forget more 
  than a grievance. It was fermented by the women—a 
  mixture of wild maize, several herbs, and honey—and 
  while far from unpalatable it had the kick of an army 
  mule. One taste sufficed for von Horst. Both men and 
  women partook of it freely with varying results. Some 
  became more loquacious and hilarious, others morose 
  162 
  
   
  and quarrelsome; so that there was usually a fight pro-
  gressing in some part of the grove. There were some who 
  did not drink at all, and von Horst noticed that Lotai 
  and Mumal were among these. Grum, on the contrary, 
  was evidently a two-fisted drinker; and while she carried 
  it well, it accentuated her distinctive characteristics, so 
  that she became more bellicose, domineering, and asser-
  tive. 
  Von Horst watched her not without some amusement, 
  as she approached an enormous man and threw her arms 
  about his neck, revealing a characteristic that it had 
  taken several potent droughts to coax to the surface. 
  Grum evidencing affection bordered upon the ludicrous. 
  Evidently the large man felt the same way about it, for 
  he roughly disengaged her arms from about his neck and 
  gave her a violent push that sent her sprawling on the 
  ground. She was up in an instant, a veritable fury, her 
  face distorted with rage. Von Horst thought that she 
  was going to attack the ungallant one, but instead she 
  barged down on Mamth. 
  "I want a mate," she screamed. "I want Horg." 
  Mamth turned toward the big man. "What does Horg 
  say?" he demanded. 
  So that was Horg. Von Horst appraised the fellow and 
  was glad that he had not elected to fight him for the 
  sake of the delectable Grum. The man was a giant. He 
  must have weighed close to three hundred pounds, and 
  he bulged with muscles. 
  Horg guffawed loudly. "Take that she-tarag as a mate!" 
  he bellowed. "I'd as soon take a Mahar." 
  "You heard him," said Mamth. "Go back to the karoo 
  and leave the man alone. He is not for you." 
  "He is for me," screamed Grum. "I have a warrior who 
  will fight Horg for me." 
  Every eye sought Gorph, and a great laugh followed. 
  163 
  
   
  "Come on, Gorph," a warrior shouted; "show us how you 
  will best Horg, but don't kill him." 
  Horg laughed uproariously. "Come on, Gorph," he 
  cried. "If you beat me I'll take Grum off your hands, and 
  I don't blame you for wanting to be rid of her." 
  "She's drunk too much tumal," growled Gorph. "I 
  never promised to fight Horg for her. Horg is my friend; 
  I do not wish to harm him." 
  This elicited another roar of laughter, and Horg 
  thought that it was so funny that he rolled on the ground 
  bellowing his amusement. Grum said nothing. She just 
  watched Horg and Gorph in silence for a moment; then 
  she turned to Mamth. 
  "I didn't say that Gorph was going to fight Horg for 
  me. Gorph is a coward. He would fight nothing if he 
  could get out of it. I have a man who will fight Horg— 
  and do it now." 
  "Who is he?" demanded Mamth. 
  Von Horst experienced a distinct sinking feeling 
  around the pit of his stomach. He knew what was coming. 
  Grum pointed a stubby, grimy finger at him. "There 
  he is," she cried in a loud voice. 
  "He's not a mammoth-man," objected Mamth. "How 
  can he fight for you?" 
  "Because no one else will," admitted Grum. 
  Mamth shook his head, but he did not have time to 
  voice a definite refusal before Horg spoke up. 
  "Let him fight me," he said. "This is a karoo, and we 
  should have some amusement." 
  "You will promise not to kill him?" demanded Marnth. 
  "I am saving him for the little canyon." 
  "I will not kill him," promised Horg. 
  Von Horst approached the two. "And when I have 
  beaten you," he demanded, "you will make Grum your 
  mate?" 
  164 
  
   
  "That is the way of the mammoth-men," said Mamth. 
  "He will have to take her, but you will not beat him." 
  "Beat me!" bellowed Horg. "Let me get hold of him." 
  "How do we fight?" asked von Horst. "Are there any 
  rules?" 
  "You fight as the beasts fight," explained Mamth. "You 
  may use no weapon, no stone nor stick. You fight until 
  one of you is unable to fight longer or gives up." 
  "I am ready," said von Horst. 
  "Are you ready, Horg?" demanded Mamth. 
  Horg laughed nonchalantly and contemptuously. "I 
  am ready," he said. 
  "Then fight!" commanded Mamth. 
  The spectators formed a circle about the combatants 
  as the two approached one another. Horg was in fine 
  spirits. The tumal he had drunk accounted partially for 
  that, and certainty of an easy victory took care of the 
  rest. He cracked jokes with his friends at the expense of 
  both von Horst and Grum. They were rather broad jokes 
  and not at all of the parlor variety, but every one en-
  joyed them immensely—that is, everyone but Grum. She 
  was furious. 
  "Wait until I get you," she screamed. "You'll wish you'd 
  never been born." 
  Von Horst grinned as he featured the life that was in 
  store for Horg should the mammoth-man lose. Death 
  would be sweeter. 
  Suddenly Horg made a rush at von Horst, the brawny 
  arms, the ham-like hands endeavoring to close upon 
  him; but von Horst stooped and dodged beneath them; 
  then he wheeled and struck Horg on the jaw—a blow 
  that staggered him. Before the mammoth-man could re-
  cover, he was struck again; and again his head rocked. 
  Now he was furious. He cracked no more jokes. He bel-
  lowed like an angry elephant and charged again. Again 
  165 
  
   
  von Horst dodged him, and the great hulk went lumber-
  ing on a dozen paces before it could stop. 
  When Horg turned he saw von Horst charging him. 
  This was what he wished. Now he could get hold of the 
  fellow, and once he got hold of him he could crush him, 
  break his bones if he wished unless he gave up. 
  He stood waiting, his feet spread far apart, his arms 
  open. Von Horst ran swiftly straight toward Horg. Just 
  before he reached him he leaped into the air, flexed his 
  knees, drawing his feet close to his body, and then with 
  all his strength backed by the momentum of his charge 
  he kicked Horg with both feet full in the face. The result 
  was astonishing—especially to Horg. He turned a com-
  plete back somersault, landed on his head, and dropped 
  face down in the dirt. 
  Groggy and only half conscious, he staggered slowly 
  to his feet. Von Horst was waiting for him. "Have you 
  had enough?" he asked. He did not wish to punish the 
  man further in the condition he was in. The crowd was 
  yelling encouragement to him; and with the fickleness 
  and cruelty of crowds was jeering at its fallen champion. 
  Grum, seeing her hopes about to be realized, screamed 
  at the top of her voice as she urged von Horst to finish 
  the almost helpless man; but Horg would not give in. 
  Perhaps he heard Grum and preferred death. He lunged 
  for his lighter antagonist, growling beast-like. 
  "I kill!" he screamed. 
  Thus was von Horst compelled to continue, for he 
  knew that Horg had uttered no idle threat. If the fellow 
  could get those great paws on him, get one good hold, 
  he would kill him. In both his hands he seized one of the 
  outstretched wrists, swung quickly around, bent sud-
  denly forward, and hurled the mighty man over his head 
  —a trick of jujitsu far simpler than it appeared to the 
  amazed onlookers. Horg fell heavily and lay still. Von 
  166 
  
   
  Horst approached and stood over him. There were cries 
  of "Kill him! Kill him!" for the blood-lust of these primi-
  tive savages was aroused, stimulated perhaps by the 
  tumal they had drunk. 
  Von Horst turned to Mamth. "Have I won?" he asked. 
  The chief nodded. "You have won," he said. 
  The victor looked at Grum. "Here is your mate," he 
  said. "Come and take him." 
  The woman ran forward and fell upon the prostrate 
  Horg, beating and kicking him. Von Horst turned away 
  in disgust. The others, laughing, returned to the food 
  and the tumal. 
  Thorek came and slapped von Horst on the back. "I 
  told them you were a great warrior," he exulted. 
  "You should know," said von Horst with a grin. 
  "Come and join the karoo," said Thorek. "You have had 
  nothing to eat or drink. That is not the way to make 
  karoo." 
  "Why should I make karoo?" demanded von Horst. "I 
  do not even know what is being celebrated." 
  "They have captured Old White, The Killer. That is 
  something to celebrate. There never was such a wise old 
  mammoth, nor one as large. After the next sleep we shall 
  start training him, and when he is trained Mamth will 
  ride him. He is a fit mammoth for a chief." 
  "I should like to see him trained," remarked von Horst; 
  for he thought it might be an interesting occasion if Old 
  White objected, which he was sure that he would. 
  "I'll ask Mamth if you can come," said Thorek. "It will 
  probably be after the next sleep. Every one will wish 
  to sleep after the karoo." 
  The two men talked for awhile, exchanging experi-
  ences that had befallen them since they had separated; 
  then Thorek wandered away to drink with his fellows, 
  and von Horst sought out Lotai. Together they watched 
  167 
  
   
  the celebration, which was by this time loud and boister-
  ous. Fights were more numerous, the laughter deafening. 
  Usually dignified old warriors were performing foolish 
  antics and laughing uproariously at themselves. Many of 
  the women were thick tongued and bleary eyed. As von 
  Horst watched them he was struck by the very obvious 
  fact that human nature had undergone little or no change 
  from the stone age to the present time. Except for the 
  difference in language and apparel these might be people 
  from any present-day country of the outer crust. Pres-
  ently he saw Grum approaching unsteadily. For the mo-
  ment she had relaxed surveillance over her new mate. 
  Von Horst attracted her attention and beckoned to her. 
  "What do you want?" she demanded. 
  "You have not forgotten our bargain?" inquired the 
  man. 
  "What bargain?" she asked. 
  "If I got Horg for you, you were to help me escape." 
  "When they are asleep after the karoo I will show you 
  the way, but you cannot go now. The tarags would get 
  you. After the prisoners are taken to the little canyon, 
  the tarags will be gone; then you could go." 
  "It will be too late then," he said, "for I am to go to 
  the little canyon; and if I have surmised correctly from 
  what I have heard, I shall not return." 
  "No," she admitted with a shrug, "you will not. But I 
  promised to show you how you might escape. It is the 
  only way I know; if you can't use it, that is not my fault." 
  Then she staggered away in search of Horg, and von 
  Horst returned to Lotai. 
  The celebration dragged on—interminably, it seemed 
  to von Horst; but at last those who could still walk 
  reeled to their caves to sleep. 
  Horg had drunk himself into a stupor, and Grum was 
  beating him over the head with a stick in an effort either 
  168 
  
   
  to punish or arouse him—perhaps to kill him. Von Horst 
  could not guess which. 
  Lotai, Mumal, and Gorph were climbing to their caves 
  —the last so befuddled that climbing the ladder toward 
  his ledge seemed to von Horst almost to verge upon 
  suicide. 
  The European passed close to Gram. "They are all 
  going to their caves to sleep," he whispered. "Now is 
  your chance to tell me." 
  "Go to the ledge before Gorph's cave, and wait there 
  for me." 
  As he climbed the ladders toward the ledge he could 
  hear Grum berating Horg as she beat him, and he smiled 
  as he speculated on the similarity between the people 
  of the old stone age and those of modern-day civilization. 
  The principal difference seemed to lie in the matter of 
  inhibitions. He had known women of the outer crust 
  who were like Grum—their thoughts were taloned. 
  He sat down upon the ledge to wait. He was. quite 
  alone. The others had gone into the cave to sleep. He 
  though of Lotai and the sad lives that she and Mumal 
  led. He thought too of La-ja, and these thoughts were 
  sad thoughts. It seemed strange that this little savage 
  should have won to such a place in his life that a future 
  without her loomed dull and grey. Could it be that he 
  loved her? He sought to analyze his feelings that he 
  might refute such a theory, but he only arrived at an-
  other sigh with the realization that no matter what logic 
  he brought to bear the fact remained that her passing 
  from his life had left an emptiness that hurt. 
  Presently Grum came. Her little eyes were blood-shot, 
  her frowzy hair at its frowziest. She was the personifica-
  tion of a stench, both morally and physically. 
  "Well," she said, "I guess Horg knows that he has a 
  mate." 
  169 
  
   
  "Why did you beat him?" asked von Horst. 
  "You've got to start right with them," she explained. 
  "If you give them the least little toe-hold you're lost, 
  just as Mumal is." 
  He nodded in understanding of her philosophy; for, 
  again, he had known women of the outer crust who were 
  like her. Perhaps their technic was more refined, but 
  their aim was identical. Marriage to them, meant a strug-
  gle for supremacy. It was a 50-50 proposition of their 
  own devising—they took fifty and demanded the other 
  fifty. 
  "Now," he said, "tell me how I may escape." 
  "There is a hole in the rear of Gorph's cave," ex-
  plained Grum. "It drops down a few feet into a tunnel. 
  When I was a little girl Gorph was beating me. I broke 
  away and hid in this hole. I knew he would not dare 
  to follow me, because he had always told us that this 
  tunnel led to the Molop Az. Gorph chased me and tried 
  to get hold of me, reaching into the hole to seize me; so 
  I had to move back into the tunnel to escape him. He 
  threatened to kill me when I came out—if I didn't fall 
  into the Molop Az and get burned up. 
  "I was very much afraid of Gorph then when I was a 
  little girl. When this happened he had been drinking 
  too much tumal, and I knew that if I came out he really 
  would kill me; so I determined to stay where I was until 
  I thought he was asleep. 
  "Then I got to thinking about Molop Az. Perhaps I 
  could go far enough in the tunnel to see it and return 
  safely. After all it didn't make much difference to me if 
  I did fall into it. Gorph was very cruel, and sooner or 
  later he was sure to kill me. Of that I was convinced; 
  so I thought I might as well take a chance with the Molop 
  Az. Being young, I was very curious. The more I thought 
  about it the more I wished to investigate it. I decided 
  170 
  
   
  to follow the tunnel and see the Molop Az." 
  "What is the Molop Az?" asked von Horst. 
  "It is a sea of fire, Pellucidar floats upon it. We know 
  that, because there are places in Pellucidar where the 
  smoke and fire come up through the ground from the 
  Molop Az. There are holes in mountains where melted 
  rock flows up. 
  "The dead that are buried in the ground are taken 
  down bit by bit by little demons and burned up in Molop 
  Az. There is no doubt about that because when we dig 
  up a body that has been buried we find that some of it 
  has been carried away—perhaps all of it." 
  "And did you find the Molop Az?" 
  She shook her head "No. The tunnel does not lead to 
  Molop Az; it leads to the little canyon. From there, ex-
  cept at certain times, you could easily make your escape 
  from Ja-ru; just go up the canyon and climb the cliff 
  at the upper end. Beyond, you can drop down into an-
  other canyon that leads out of our country into a country 
  where mammoth-men seldom if ever go." 
  "Thanks," said von Horst. 
  "But you can't go now. The tarags would get you. 
  They are in the far end of the tunnel. They will be there 
  until the prisoners are taken to the little canyon." 
  "What is the little canyon?" he asked. 
  She looked at him in surprise. "What would a little 
  canyon be but a little canyon?" she demanded. 
  "What happens there?" 
  "You will find out soon enough. Now I am going back 
  to Horg. You got him for me, and I have kept my prom-
  ise. I don't know whether he was worth the trouble, but 
  at least I shall have a cave of my own." She turned then 
  and left him. 
  'At least I shall have a cave of my own!' von Horst 
  171 
  
   
  grinned. Evidently it was an immemorial custom that 
  girls should wed to escape their families. 
  XVI 
  OLD WHITE 
  BELOW HIM the leaves of the trees moved to a gentle 
  breeze as von Horst came from the cave after sleeping. 
  The air was fresh and clear, and the breeze was cool, 
  tempering the heat of the high sun, as though it blew 
  across the snow of far mountains. The man looked about 
  him and saw that life was astir again in the cliff village 
  of the mammoth-men. He heard his name called from 
  below and saw Thorek beckoning to him to come down. 
  Gorph had to yet come from the cave; so von Horst de-
  scended and joined Thorek at the foot of the cliff. Many 
  warriors were assembling. Mamth was there, and though 
  he saw von Horst he paid no attention to him. 
  "We are going to train Old White," said Thorek. 
  "Mamth has said that you may come with us. You may 
  ride with me upon my mammoth." 
  Presently the herd appeared, driven by herders 
  mounted on their great beasts. These were all well trained 
  mammoths, and they moved quietly and obediently. 
  When all the warriors were mounted Mamth led the way 
  up the main canyon. The gorges that ran into it were 
  mostly narrow with steep, rocky sides. Before the en-
  trance to one of them Mamth halted. The opening into 
  the gorge was very narrow and across it were bars each 
  of which was a good size tree. The top bar was roped 
  securely into place by a large rope that had been made 
  by braiding long grass. Warriors removed the rope; and 
  172 
  
   
  two of the mammoths, directed by their riders, lifted 
  the bars and removed them; then the party filed into the 
  gorge. Beyond the entrance it widened and the floor was 
  level. They had ridden up it but a short distance when 
  von Horst saw a huge mammoth standing in the shade 
  of a tree. It was swaying to and fro on its great feet, its 
  head and trunk undulating to the cadence of its swaying 
  body. On its left jowl was a patch of white hair. It was 
  Old White, the Killer. Von Horst would have recognized 
  the huge beast among hundreds of its kind. 
  At sight of the party the animal raised its trunk and 
  screamed. The rocky hills trembled to the giant's warning. 
  It started toward them, and then von Horst saw that one 
  of its feet was secured to a great log. It could move about, 
  but the log prevented it from moving rapidly. Two 
  mammoths were ridden in on either side of Old White. 
  When he attempted to raise his trunk to seize the riders 
  the other mammoths caught and held it with theirs, and 
  it required the combined strength of the two to do it. 
  Now a third warrior rode close and clambered over 
  the back of one of the tame mammoths to sit astride Old 
  White's neck, and the close contact of the man threw 
  the captive into a fury. Trumpeting and bellowing, he 
  sought to escape from the beasts that pressed close on 
  either side. He fought to raise his trunk and snatch the 
  man-thing from him as he lurched erratically about the 
  floor of the gorge dragging the great log in his wake. 
  Old White, the Killer, was wise with great age; and 
  when he realized that he could accomplish nothing by 
  force he suddenly became quiet and apparently as docile 
  as a lamb; then commenced his training. The rider struck 
  him a sharp blow with the flat of his hand on his back 
  just behind where the warrior sat, and simultaneously a 
  mammoth in his rear and those on either side of him 
  pushed him forward. A blow on the head in front of 
  173 
  
   
  the rider was a signal to stop, and the three great train-
  ing mammoths stopped him. Time and again he was re-
  hearsed in these movements; then he was taught to turn 
  to the right or left by a kick on the opposite jowl. Old 
  White learned quickly. Mamth was delighted. Here, in-
  deed, was a powerful and intelligent beast worthy to be 
  the mount of a chief. The trainers watched Old White 
  carefully, his ears, his tail, his trunk, his eyes, for these 
  were the indices of his temper; and they all proclaimed 
  resignation and docility. 
  "Never have I seen a wild mammoth subdued so easily 
  or taught so quickly," exclaimed Mamth. "He is already 
  trained. Let him be ridden alone now without the other 
  mammoths. Later we will remove the log." 
  The riders withdrew the other three mammoths to a 
  short distance from Old White; and the great beast stood 
  gently swinging his trunk to and fro, a picture of con-
  tentment and docility. The young warrior riding him 
  struck him sharply on the back, signaling him to move 
  forward. As quickly as a snake strikes, Old White swung 
  his trunk up and seized his rider; and simultaneously he 
  was transformed into a raging devil of hate and fury. 
  Screaming with rage, he raised the struggling warrior 
  high above his head; then he dashed him heavily to the 
  ground in front of him. The three warriors who had been 
  assisting with his training urged their mounts in, but too 
  late. Old White placed a great foot on the warrior and 
  trampled him into the earth. Then he seized the warrior 
  on the nearest mount and hurled him across the gorge, 
  and all the while he trumpeted and bellowed. As he 
  lunged for another of the warriors the two turned their 
  mammoths and retreated; but Old White pursued them, 
  dragging the heavy log after him. That was the end of 
  the mighty captive's training. Mamth, disappointed and 
  angry, ordered all from the gorge, the bars of the gate 
  174 
  
   
  were replaced; and they rode back down the canyon 
  toward the village. 
  Von Horst had been an interested spectator, his inter-
  est augmented because of his former remarkable experi-
  ence with Old White. His sympathies were with the mam-
  moth, and he was secretly pleased by the manner in 
  which the wise old beast had completely deceived his 
  captors and won at least a partial revenge for the suffer-
  ings and indignities that he had been subjected to. 
  Von Horst had also been interested in learning the 
  method used by the mammoth-men in controlling their 
  ponderous mounts; and as they left the gorge he asked 
  Thorek if he might pilot the animal the two were riding; 
  and Thorek, amused, consented. Thus he acquired an ac-
  complishment that appeared quite as useless as anything 
  that he had ever learned in his life. 
  "Will you ever be able to tame Old White?" he asked. 
  Thorek shook his head. "Not unless Mamth is crazy," 
  he replied, "will he ever risk another warrior on that 
  brute. He is a natural killer. Such as he are never tamed. 
  He has killed many warriors, and knowing how easy it 
  is to kill us he would never be safe." 
  "What will become of him?" 
  "He will be destroyed, but not before he has afforded 
  the tribe some entertainment." 
  They rode on in silence. Von Horst's thoughts were 
  rummaging in the attic of memory rediscovering many a 
  half forgotten souvenir. Bold and fresh and clear among 
  them was the figure of La-ja. He turned his face a little 
  toward Thorek. 
  "Lotai is a fine girl," he said. 
  Thorek looked surprised, and scowled. "What do you 
  know of Lotai?" he demanded. 
  "I am quartered in Groph's cave." 
  Thorek grunted. 
  175 
  
   
  "Lotai will make some warrior a good mate," ventured 
  von Horst. 
  "He will have to fight me," said Thorek. Von Horst 
  smiled. "Grum has a mate," he said. "Whoever takes 
  Lotai will not have to take Grum, too. He will only have 
  to fight you. But I did not know that you cared. Lotai does 
  not know that you care." "How do you know?" "She said 
  so." 
  "Do you want her?" demanded Thorek. "She is very 
  desirable, but she loves another." "And you are afraid to 
  fight him?" "No," replied von Horst. "I am not afraid to 
  fight him. I have already done so and beaten him." 
  "And you have mated with her?" Thorek's tone sounded 
  like the growl of a beast. 
  "No. I know that she loves him." 
  "Who is he? He'll not have her. I'll kill him. Who is he? 
  Tell me." 
  "You," said von Horst, grinning. 
  Thorek looked very foolish. "You are sure?" he asked. 
  "Positive. She has told me." 
  "Before the next sleep I shall ask Mamth, and I shall 
  take Lotai to my cave." 
  "Do you have to ask Mamth?" 
  "Yes; he is chief." 
  "Ask him now," suggested von Horst. "As well now as 
  later," agreed Thorek. He urged his mount forward 
  until he rode abreast of Mamth. 
  "I would take Lotai, the daughter of Gorph, to be my 
  mate," he said to the chief. 
  Mamth scowled. "No," he said. 
  "Why?" demanded Thorek. "I am a great warrior. I 
  have no mate. I want Lotai." "So do I," said Mamth. 
  176 
  
   
  Thorek flushed. He was about to make some rejoinder 
  when von Horst put a warning finger to his own lips and 
  slowed the mammoth down until it had again taken its 
  place in the column. 
  "I have a plan," said von Horst. 
  "What sort of a plan?" asked Thorek. 
  "A plan whereby you may get Lotai and at the same 
  time do something that will make her very happy." 
  "And what is that?" 
  "She and her mother, Mumal, are very unhappy here. 
  Mumal wishes to return to Sari, the country from which 
  Gorph stole her; and Lotai wishes to go with her." 
  "Well, what can I do about it?" demanded Thorek. 
  "You can take them. It is the only way that you can 
  get Lotai." 
  "I cannot take them," said Thorek. "I could never get 
  them out of the village." 
  "Would you go to Sari with them if you could?" 
  "I would only be killed by the men of Sari." 
  "The Sarians would not kill you. Mumal is a Sarian, 
  and I have a friend named Dangar who would see that 
  you were taken into the tribe. He would do anything 
  that I asked." 
  "It is useless," insisted Thorek. "I could never leave 
  the village with two women." 
  "Would you, if you could?" demanded von Horst. 
  "Yes; if Lotai would go with me I would go anywhere." 
  "In the back of Gorph's cave there is an opening into 
  a tunnel." 
  "Yes, I know of it; it leads to Molop Az." 
  "It leads to the little canyon. When the tarags at the' 
  other end are gone you may go out that way with Lotai 
  and Mumal." 
  "How do you know that it leads to the little canyon?" 
  demanded Thorek. 
  177 
  
   
  "I have talked with one who went through it as far as 
  the place where the tarags are." 
  Thorek rode in silence for a time before he spoke again. 
  The party came to the village and dismounted. The 
  herders drove the mammoths away. Mamth was irritable 
  and glum. He turned on von Horst. 
  "Get to Gorph's cave," he ordered, "and stay there. 
  Perhaps before the next sleep we shall take you to the 
  little canyon." 
  "That is the end for you, my friend," said Thorek. "I 
  am sorry. I thought that perhaps we might find a way 
  for you to go with us to Sari; but the way will not be 
  open, the tarags will not be gone until after you have 
  been taken to the little canyon; then it will be too late." 
  Von Horst shrugged. "There is not very much that one 
  can do about it," he said. 
  "There is nothing," asserted Thorek. 
  He walked on beside von Horst toward the ladder that 
  led upward to Gorph's cave. "Perhaps this is the last time 
  that we shall talk together," he said. 
  "Perhaps," agreed von Horst. 
  "Will you speak to Lotai for me?" 
  "Certainly. What shall I say?" 
  "Ask her if she will go with me to Sari, she and Mumal. 
  If she will, raise your right arm straight toward the sun 
  when next you see me. If she will not, raise your left 
  arm. I shall be watching. If they will go, tell them that 
  when the others go to the little canyon, they must hide. 
  I will do the same, and after all are gone we can enter 
  the tunnel and go as far as the tarags. When the tribe has 
  left the little canyon, we can come out and go away in 
  search of Sari." 
  "Good-by," said von Horst. They had reached the foot 
  of the ladder. "Good-by and good luck. I will speak to 
  Lotai as' soon as possible." 
  178 
  
   
  Von Horst found Lotai and Mumal alone in front of 
  the cave, and immediately explained the plan that he and 
  Thorek had discussed. Both women were delighted, and 
  they sat for a long time planning on the future. Presently 
  Gorph came and demanded food. As usual he was surly 
  and brutal. He glowered and growled at von Horst. 
  "I shall not have to feed you again," he said. "Mamth 
  has spoken, and soon all will be in readiness in the little 
  canyon. You will be taken there with the other prisoners, 
  and you will not come back." 
  "I shall miss you, Gorph," said von Horst. 
  The mammoth-man looked at him in stupid amaze-
  ment. "I shall not miss you," he said. 
  "I shall miss your pleasant ways and your hospitality." 
  "You are a fool," said Gorph. He gobbled his food and 
  arose. "I am going into the cave to sleep," he said. "If 
  word is passed that we are going to the little canyon, 
  wake me." 
  As he crossed to enter the cave he aimed a vicious kick 
  at Lotai, which she dodged by rolling quickly out of the 
  way. "Why don't you get a man?" he demanded. "I am 
  sick of seeing you around; I am tired of feeding you;" 
  then he passed on into the cave. 
  The three sat in silence. They dared not plan for fear 
  they might be overheard. The thoughts of the women 
  were filled with happiness—thoughts of escape, of Sari, 
  of love, and of happiness. The man thought not of the 
  future but of the past—of the world of his birth, of his 
  friends, and his family, of a beautiful girl who had 
  touched his life briefly and yet had filled it. There was 
  no future for him—only a brief interval of uncertainty 
  and then death. A young man climbed agilely up the 
  ladders to the ledge before Gorph's cave. He halted and 
  surveyed the three, his eyes resting on Lotai. 
  "You are to go to the cave of Mamth," he said. "He 
  179 
  
   
  has chosen you to be his mate." 
  Lotai turned very white; her wide eyes were horror 
  filled. She tried to speak; but she only gasped, her fin-
  gers clutching at her throat. 
  Von Horst looked at the messenger. "Tell Mamth that 
  Lotai has been ill," he said, "but that she will come 
  presently." 
  "She had better not be long," warned the man, "if she 
  doesn't want a beating." 
  After he had departed the three sat whispering to-
  gether for some time; then Lotai arose and went into the 
  cave. Von Horst and Mumal remained where they were 
  for a short time; then they too, feeling the urge to sleep, 
  went into the cave. 
  Von Horst was awakened by loud voices outside the 
  cave; then Gorph entered, calling Lotai. There was no 
  reply. Von Horst sat up. 
  "Lotai is not here," he said. "Don't make so much 
  noise; I want to sleep." 
  "Where is she?" demanded Gorph. "She has got to be 
  here." 
  "Perhaps, but she is not. Mamth sent for her to come 
  to his cave. Go and inquire of Mamth where she is." 
  Two warriors entered the cave. "She did not come to 
  Mamth's cave," said one of them. "He sent us to fetch 
  her." 
  "Perhaps something happened to her," suggested von 
  Horst. 
  The two, with Gorph, searched the cave. They ques-
  tioned Mumal, but she only replied as had von Horst 
  that Mamth had sent for Lotai. At last they departed, 
  and the others followed them to the ledge. Presently von 
  Horst saw a number of warriors commence a search of 
  the village. They searched every cave, but they did not 
  find Lotai. Von Horst could see Mamth standing among 
  180 
  
   
  the trees at the foot of the cliff, and he guessed from his 
  gestures that he was very angry. Nor was he mistaken. 
  Presently the chief came himself to the cave of Gorph 
  and searched it; and he questioned Gorph, and Mumal, 
  and von Horst. He wanted to blame one or all of them, 
  but he had no evidence to support him. He stopped in 
  front of von Horst, scowling. 
  "You are bad luck," he said, "but it will not be for 
  long—we go now to the little canyon." 
  To the little canyon! The end of his adventure in Pel-
  lucidar was approaching. Well, what of it? One must die. 
  It is little easier one time than another. Even the very 
  old and hopeless cling tenaciously to life. They may not 
  wish to, but they cannot help it—it is just another of 
  Nature's immutable laws. 
  He followed the warriors down the ladders to the foot 
  of the cliff. Here the clan was gathering, men, women, 
  and children. A herd of mammoths was being driven 
  into the village; and the great beasts were lifting men, 
  women, and children to their backs. Von Horst looked 
  about in search of Thorek, but he could not find him; 
  then he was ordered to the back of a mammoth, where 
  he sat behind a warrior. He saw Frug on another beast, 
  as well as other prisoners similarly mounted. There were 
  men from Amdar, from Go-hal, from Lo-har. Von Horst 
  had never met any of the other prisoners except Frug; 
  but he had heard them spoken of by Mumal, Grum, and 
  Lotai. He would have been glad to have talked with 
  the man from Lo-har, because that was La-ja's country. 
  Because of that he felt closer to him. His heart might 
  have warmed even to the redoubtable Gaz. 
  Presently he caught sight of Thorek. He was standing 
  at one side among the trees staring steadily at von Horst; 
  and the instant that the man from the outer crust caught 
  his eye, he raised his right arm aloft toward the sun. 
  181 
  
   
  Thorek nodded and turned away. Immediately thereafter 
  Mamth moved off upon his great mount, and the others 
  followed. The hairy warriors with their women and chil-
  dren, the monstrous beasts that bore them, presented 
  a picture of primitive savagery that thrilled von Horst 
  despite its sinister connotation. It was indeed an inspir-
  ing prelude to death. He looked about him. Riding be-
  side and almost abreast of him, he discovered Gorph 
  alone upon the back of his mammoth. 
  "Where is Mumal?" inquired von Horst. 
  Gorph looked at him and scowled. "She is sick," he 
  said. "I hope she dies; then I could get me a good mate. 
  I will not hunt for two of them and their brats." 
  Presently the trail wound up the side of the canyon to 
  the summit of a ridge that paralleled a steep-sided can-
  yon. Here the tribe dismounted, turning the mammoths 
  over to the herders; after which the men, women, and 
  children ranged themselves along the edge of the canyon 
  which formed an amphitheater below them. 
  "This," said the warrior with whom von Horst had 
  ridden, "is the little canyon." 
  XVII 
  THE LITTLE CANYON 
  Ax THE EDGE of the canyon was a ledge along which the 
  members of the tribe pressed to obtain a view of the floor 
  of the canyon some thirty feet below. At the upper end 
  of the canyon a massive corral had been built in which 
  were several mammoths, and in the wall opposite the 
  spectators a cave entrance was barred with small tim-
  bers. As von Horst stood looking down into the little 
  182 
  
   
  canyon, Horg came carrying a rope in one end of which 
  was a noose. 
  "Stick your leg through this," he said to von Horst, 
  "and hold on tight." 
  Two other warriors approached and took hold of the 
  rope with the first. "Get over the edge," directed Horg. 
  "Your troubles will soon be over. I would almost like to 
  change places with you." 
  Von Horst grinned. "No thanks," he said. "I know 
  when I'm well off." 
  "When you reach the bottom, step out of the rope," 
  instructed Horg; then the three lowered him to the floor 
  of the canyon. 
  As they pulled the rope up again they tossed down a 
  stone knife and a stone tipped spear; then they lowered 
  another prisoner. It was Frug. 
  The chief of the Basti glowered at von Horst. "You've 
  got me into a nice mess," he growled. 
  "You are rationalizing, my friend," replied von Horst. 
  "You are also passing the buck, as my American friends 
  so quaintly put it; all of which confirms an opinion I have 
  long held—that styles in whiskers and bowler hats may 
  change, but human nature never." 
  "I don't know what you are talking about." 
  "It is quite immaterial. If I am any sort of a judge, 
  nothing that we may or think down here at the bottom 
  of the little canyon will ever be material to any one, not 
  even to ourselves." 
  From above were dropped weapons for Frug; and 
  then, one by one, the three remaining prisoners were 
  lowered and armed. The five doomed men stood in a 
  little group waiting for death, wondering, perhaps, in 
  what form the grim reaper would present himself. They 
  were stalwart men, all; and each in his own mind had 
  doubtless determined to sell his life as dearly as possible. 
  183 
  
   
  The fact that they had been armed must have held out 
  a faint hope that they might be given a chance, however 
  slender, to win life and freedom in combat. 
  Von Horst was scrutinizing the three he had not previ-
  ously seen. "Which of you is from Lo-har?" he asked. 
  "I am from Lo-har," said the youngest of the three. 
  "Why do you ask?" 
  "I have been long with a girl from Lo-har," replied 
  von Horst. "Together we escaped from Basti, where we 
  were being held in slavery. We were on our way to 
  Lo-har when two men from Basti stole her from me 
  while I slept." 
  "Who was this girl?" inquired the man from Lo-har. 
  "La-ja." 
  The man whistled in surprise. "The daughter of Brun, 
  the Chief," he said. "Well, you are just as well off here as 
  you would have been had you succeeded in reaching 
  Lo-har with her." 
  "Why?" demanded von Horst. "What do you mean?" 
  "I mean that you can only be killed here; and if you 
  had reached Lo-har with La-ja, Gaz would have killed 
  you. He has been on the warpath ever since La-ja dis-
  appeared. It is a good thing for the Bastians that he did 
  not know who stole her. Gaz is a mighty man. Single 
  handed he might destroy a whole tribe such as the Bas-
  tians" 
  Gaz again! Von Horst was almost sorry that he was 
  never to have the opportunity to see this doughty warrior. 
  He turned to Frug. "The man from Lo-har doesn't 
  think much of you Bastians," he taunted. 
  "Is he a Bastian?" demanded the Lo-harian. 
  "He is the chief," explained von Horst. 
  "I am Daj of Lo-har," cried the young warrior. "You 
  stole the daughter of my chief, you eater of men. I kill!" 
  He leaped toward Frug, holding his stone-tipped spear 
  184 
  
   
  like a bayonetted rifle. Frug sprang back, parrying the 
  first thrust. A shout of approval rose from the savage 
  audience on the ledge above. Then the two men settled 
  down to a stern, relentless dual. Frug outweighed his op-
  ponent by fifty pounds, but the other had the advantage 
  of youth and agility. The former sought to rush Daj and 
  bear him down by sheer physical weight, but Daj was 
  too quick for him. Each time, he leaped aside; and on 
  Frug's third attempt, Daj dodged as he had before; then 
  he wheeled quickly and jabbed his spear into the Bas-
  tian's side. 
  The mammoth-men shouted their approval. "Kill! Kill!" 
  they screamed. Frug roared with pain and rage, wheeled 
  again and lumbered down upon Daj. This time the Lo-
  harian stood his ground until Frug was almost upon him; 
  then he crouched suddenly beneath the extended weapon 
  of his adversary and thrust viciously upward into the 
  belly of the Bastian. As Frug writhed, screaming, upon 
  the ground, Daj wrenched his weapon from the other's 
  belly and plunged it through his heart. Thus died the 
  Chief, Frug of Basti; thus was La-ja avenged by one of 
  her own clan. 
  Amidst the shouts and yells of the mammoth-men, 
  the man from Amdar shouted, "Look! Tarags! There," 
  and pointed toward the opposite side of the canyon. 
  With the others, von Horst looked. The grating that 
  had been before the entrance to the cave had been raised 
  by warriors from above, and now five great tarags were 
  slinking onto the floor of the canyon—five mighty, saber-
  toothed tigers. 
  "Tandors!" exclaimed the man from Go-hal. "They are 
  turning the tandors loose on us. They give us a spear 
  and a knife to fight tarags and tandors." 
  "They think well of us as fighting men," said von Horst, 
  grinning, as he glanced toward the upper end of the can-
  185 
  
   
  yon and saw that the mammoths had been released from 
  the corral. 
  There were five mammoths, bulls that were untama-
  ble killers. One of them towered above his fellows, a 
  huge monster, bellowing angrily as it caught the scent 
  of the tarags and the men. The five moved ponderously 
  down toward the center of the canyon, while the great 
  cats crossed directly toward the five men awaiting their 
  doom. Thus the paths of the beasts seemed certain to 
  meet before the tarags reached the men. But one of the 
  latter trotted ahead, so that it seemed apparent that it 
  would cross in front of the mammoths and reach the 
  four prisoners without interruption. 
  Von Horst was sufficiently familiar with the tempers of 
  both mammoths and tigers to know that, being heredi-
  tary enemies, they would attack one another if they came 
  in contact. Just what this would mean to himself and his 
  fellow prisoners he could only guess. Perhaps enough of 
  them might be disabled in the ensuing battle to permit 
  the men to dispatch those that were not killed. Whether 
  or not they would be any better off then, he did not 
  know. It might be that those who survived would be 
  released. He asked Daj of Lo-har about it. 
  "The mammoth-men never let a prisoner escape if they 
  can help it," replied Daj. "If we are not killed by the 
  beasts, we shall be killed in some other way." 
  "If we can reach the upper end of the canyon," said 
  von Horst, "we may be able to escape. I see a little trail 
  there running from beside the corral to the summit. I 
  have been told that if we can escape in that way the 
  mammoth-men will not pursue us, as it would take them 
  into a country that, for some reason, they never enter." 
  "The tarags and the tandors will never permit us to 
  reach the upper end of the canyon," replied Daj. 
  The tarag that was in the lead was preparing to charge. 
  186 
  
   
  He crouched low, now, and crept forward. His sinuous 
  tail twitched nervously. His blazing eyes were fixed upon 
  von Horst who stood a little in advance of his fellows. 
  Behind this tarag the others had met the tandors. The 
  canyon thundered to the roaring and trumpeting and 
  screaming of the challenging beasts. 
  "Run for the upper end of the canyon," von Horst called 
  back to his companions. "Some of you may escape." 
  The tarag charged, his lips stretched in a hideous snarl 
  that bared his great saber teeth to the gums, his jaws dis-
  tended. Roaring, he charged upon the puny man-thing. 
  Once before had von Horst stopped the charge of a tarag 
  with a stone tipped spear. That time he had accorded 
  the palm to luck. It seemed incredible that such luck 
  would hold again. Yet, had it been wholly luck? Skill 
  and strength and iron nerve had been contributing fac-
  tors in his victory. Would they hold again against this 
  devil-faced demon? 
  As the tarag rose in its final spring, von Horst dropped 
  to one knee and planted the butt of the spear firmly 
  against the ground. He was very cool and deliberate, 
  though he had to move with lightning speed. He held the 
  point of the spear forward, aiming it at the broad white 
  chest of the sabertooth; then, as the beast struck, the 
  man rolled to one side, leaping quickly to his feet. 
  The spear sank deep into the chest of the tarag, and 
  with a hideous scream the beast rolled in the dust of the 
  canyon floor. But it was up again in an instant seeking 
  with ferocious growls and terrifying roars the author of 
  its hurt. It turned its terrible eyes upon von Horst and 
  tried to reach him; but the butt of the spear, sticking 
  into the ground, drove the point farther into its body; 
  and it stopped to claw at the offending object. Its roars, 
  now, were deafening; but von Horst saw that it was re-
  duced to nothing more menacing than noise and looked 
  187 
  
   
  about him to see what chance he had to reach the upper 
  end of the canyon. His companions were moving in that 
  direction. To his right, the tarags and mammoths were 
  engaged in a titanic struggle. Three of the former had 
  centered their attack upon the smallest of the bulls. The 
  other four bulls stood in a little group, tail to tail, while 
  the remaining tarag, the largest of the five, circled them. 
  Von Horst moved in the direction of the upper end of 
  the canyon. He hoped that he might go unnoticed by the 
  beasts, but the great tarag that was circling the four 
  bulls saw him. It stopped in its tracks, eyeing him; and 
  then it came for him. No longer was there a spear with 
  which to dispute the outcome of the encounter with the 
  fanged and taloned beast—the outcome that now must be 
  a foregone conclusion. 
  The man gauged the distance to the end of the canyon. 
  Could he reach it before the mighty carnivore overtook 
  him? He doubted it. Then he saw the huge bull that 
  he had noticed before break from the group and start 
  forward as though to intercept the tarag. Von Horst im-
  agined that the tandor thought the great cat was trying 
  to escape him and was thus emboldened to pursue and 
  attack. 
  Now there might be a chance to escape. If the mam-
  moth overtook the sabertooth before the latter reached 
  von Horst; or if the sabertooth's charge were diverted by 
  a threatened attack by the mammoth; then he might eas-
  ily reach safety while all of the animals in the canyon 
  were occupied with one another. With this slender hope 
  to speed him on, he started to run. But the tarag was not 
  to be denied this easy prey. It paid no attention to the 
  mammoth as it continued on in pursuit of the man. Von 
  Horst, glancing back across a shoulder, was astounded by 
  the terrific speed of the huge mammoth. Like a thorough-
  bred, it raced to head off the carnivore. The latter gained 
  188 
  
   
  rapidly upon von Horst. It was a question which would 
  reach him first, and to the man it seemed only a ques-
  tion as to the manner of his death. Would he die with 
  those terrible talons at his vitals, or would he be tossed 
  high in air and then trampled beneath tons of prehistoric 
  flesh? 
  Upon the rim of the canyon the savage cave-men were 
  howling their delight and approval of this exciting race 
  with death. Mamth had discovered that three of his pris-
  oners had located the path at the upper end of the can-
  yon and were on their way to freedom. That the path 
  was not guarded was due to the fact that the mammoth-
  men believed that no one but themselves knew of it, 
  and it was so faintly traced upon the canyon's wall that 
  no one who did not know of its existence could have 
  discovered it. 
  But now that Mamth saw that the three had reached 
  the end of the canyon and started to ascend, he hurriedly 
  sent warriors to intercept them. Whether they would 
  reach the head of the canyon in time to do so was 
  problematical. 
  Below, on the floor of the canyon, the tarag leaped to 
  seize von Horst. The savage beast was apparently either 
  indifferent to the close proximity of the mammoth racing 
  now parallel with it, or else it sought to wrest the prey 
  from its competitor. Then a strange thing happened. The 
  mammoth's trunk shot out with lightning speed and cir-
  cled the body of the tarag, halting its spring in mid-air. 
  Once the mighty Titan swung the screaming, clawing 
  creature to and fro; then, with all its great strength, it 
  hurled it high in the air and to one side. 
  Whether by intent or chance it hurled it to the rim 
  of the canyon among the spectators, scattering them in 
  all directions. Infuriated, and only slightly injured, the 
  189 
  
   
  tarag charged among the fleeing tribesmen, striking them 
  down to right and left. 
  But none of this von Horst witnessed. He was too 
  much engrossed with his own perilous adventure. And 
  perilous it seemed. For no sooner had the mammoth dis-
  posed of the tarag than it encircled the man with its 
  powerful trunk and lifted him high in the air. To von 
  Horst it signified the end. He breathed a silent prayer 
  that it might be soon over and without suffering. As the 
  beast wheeled he had a fleeting glimpse of the melee on 
  the ledge above—the mad tarag, a score of spearmen 
  rallying courageously to meet its savage attack; then he 
  saw the three tarags and the four mammoths engaged in 
  a terrific battle to the accompaniment of trumpeting, 
  screams, growls, and roars that were almost deafening. 
  The bull that was carrying him aloft moved straight 
  down the canyon at a shuffling trot. Von Horst wondered 
  why he had not been tossed or trampled. Was the crea-
  ture playing with him to prolong his torture? What was 
  in the sagacious brain of the ponderous monster? Now 
  the trunk curled back, and to von Horst's amazement he 
  was lowered gently to the beast's neck. For a moment 
  the trunk held him there until he gained his equilibrium; 
  then it was removed. 
  Past the madly battling beasts the mammoth bore von 
  Horst toward the lower end of the little canyon. The 
  man settled himself more firmly back of the great ears 
  which he grasped as additional support, and as he did 
  so he chanced to glance down. Upon the mammoth's left 
  jowl grew a path of white hair! 
  Ah Am, ma Rahna—Old White, the Killer! Could it be 
  that the great beast recognized him? Was it repaying the 
  man for the service he had rendered it? Von Horst could 
  scarcely believe this; yet why else had it refrained from 
  190 
  
   
  killing him? What was it doing now other than seeking 
  to save him? 
  Von Horst was well aware of the great sagacity of 
  these huge beasts and the unusual wisdom ascribed to 
  Old White by the mammoth-men; so it was this knowl-
  edge and the hope that springs eternal that tended to 
  convince him against his better judgment that he had 
  found a faithful friend and a mighty ally. But what 
  might it avail him? They were still trapped in the little 
  canyon in which blood-mad beasts battled to the death. 
  If he were at the upper end of the canyon, he might 
  escape by the trail; but he was not—he was being borne 
  toward the lower end across which was a massive gate 
  of logs. 
  That Old White was seeking escape from the canyon 
  in this direction was soon evident. He was directing his 
  shuffling trot straight for the barrier. Now, as he ap-
  proached it, he increased his gait; and as he came 
  within fifty feet of it, he lowered his head and charged. 
  Von Horst was aghast. Ahead, upon the instant of 
  impact with the logs of the barrier, lay death for both of 
  them. He thought of slipping from the back of the 
  charging beast. But why? Death beneath the fangs and 
  talons of the great cats might be far more hideous than 
  that which lay just ahead—the terrific impact and then 
  oblivion. There would be no suffering. 
  The mammoth seems a slow moving, ungainly animal; 
  but it is far from such. Now, in the full rush of its charge, 
  Old White bore down upon the gate of logs with the 
  speed of an express train—a living battering ram of incal-
  culable power. Von Horst lay flat, his arms hooked be-
  neath the great ears. He waited for the end, and he had 
  faced so many dangers in savage Pellucidar since he dis-
  embarked from the O-220 that he was not greatly con-
  cerned by the imminence of death. Perhaps, now that he 
  191 
  
   
  had lost La-j'a, it would be a welcome surcease of con-
  stant battling for survival. After all, was life worth this 
  unremitting strife? 
  It was all over in a split second. The mighty skull 
  crashed into the heavy barrier. Logs, splintered like 
  matchwood, flew in all directions. The great beast stum-
  bled to its knees over the lower bars, nearly unseating 
  the man; then caught itself and rushed from the little 
  canyon to freedom. 
  XVIII 
  BISON-MEN 
  THAT HE WAS free seemed almost incredible to von Horst. 
  A veritable miracle, the reward for his humane treatment 
  of his giant savior, had wrought his salvation in an ex-
  tremity from which only a miracle might have saved him. 
  But what of the future? He had a mount, but what could 
  he do about it? Where was it taking him? Could he 
  control it? Could he even escape it? And if he did, where 
  was he to go? He knew now that there was practically 
  no hope that he might ever find Sari. Even though he 
  might retrace his steps to The Forest of Death, through 
  which he must pass to pick up Dangar's trail, he knew 
  that it would be suicidal to enter that grim and forbid-
  ding wood. 
  He would have liked to make his way to Lo-har because 
  that was La-ja's country. From the point at which he had 
  left The Forest of Death he knew the general direction 
  of Lo-har, and so he decided that when he was again a 
  free agent he would seek out the land of La-ja. There 
  might always be at least the hope that she found her 
  192 
  
   
  way there. That she could, though, through this fearsome 
  land of grotesque and terrible dangers appeared such a 
  remote possibility as to verge closely upon the impossi-
  ble. 
  And how was he to reach it even though chance might 
  put him on the right trail? He was unarmed except for 
  the crude stone knife the mammoth-men had given him 
  and the now useless belt of cartridges which he had 
  clung to for some reason almost as inexplicable as the 
  fact that his captors had not taken it from him. 
  It is true that the time he had spent in Pellucidar and 
  his increased knowledge of her ways had given him 
  greater confidence in his ability to take care of himself, 
  but it had also impressed upon him a healthy respect 
  for the dangers that he knew must confront him. So 
  much for the future. How about the present? 
  Old White had reduced his speed and was ambling 
  down the main canyon away from the village of the mam-
  moth-men and the little canyon. No sign of pursuit had 
  developed, and von Horst thought it probable that the 
  tribesmen had been so occupied with the saber-toothed 
  tiger rampant among them that they had failed to notice 
  the sudden departure of Old White and himself. 
  Presently the mammoth came out of the foot-hills and 
  set its course down toward the river upon the banks of 
  which von Horst had come upon it and where he had 
  later been captured by the mammoth-men. The gentle 
  slope of the plain ahead was dotted with feeding animals, 
  sight of which raised the question in von Horst's mind 
  as to how he was to procure food with only a stone knife 
  as a weapon. He was also concerned with the destination 
  of Old White. Were the animal to leave him in the open 
  plain he might never pass through these great herds to 
  the trees by the river, and he must reach the sanctuary 
  of trees if he were to have even a chance for survival. 
  193 
  
   
  There he could find partial concealment and the materials 
  for the bow and arrows and the spear he must have to 
  wage the eternal battle for life which constitutes the 
  whole existence of man in that savage world. 
  But now Old White was veering off to the left on a 
  course parallel to the river. Von Horst did not want to go 
  in that direction, for the country lay open and only 
  sparsely treed as far as the eye could reach. Trees, plenty 
  of them, trees beside water he must reach. 
  He had witnessed the unsuccessful attempt to tame 
  Old White. He had seen him obey the signals of his rider 
  before he killed him, and he wondered if the great beast 
  remembered what he had learned; or, remembering, if he 
  would obey. Perhaps an attempt to guide him would 
  recall to the mammoth the indignities that had been 
  heaped upon him by his captors and the manner in 
  which he had rid himself of his last rider. 
  Von Horst hesitated a moment; then he shrugged and 
  kicked Old White with his left foot. Nothing happened. 
  He kicked again several times. Now the beast changed its 
  direction toward the right, and von Horst kept on kick-
  ing until it was headed straight for the river. Thereafter 
  he kept the beast on this course by the signals he had 
  learned from the mammoth-men—that they had both 
  learned thus. 
  When the river was reached von Horst struck Old 
  White a sharp blow on top of the head, and the beast 
  stopped; then the man slipped to the ground. He 
  wondered what the animal would do now, but it did 
  nothing—only stood placidly waving its trunk to and 
  fro. Von Horst stepped in front of its shoulder and 
  stroked its trunk. "Good boy," he said in quiet tones, as 
  a man speaks to his horse. Old White wound his trunk 
  about the man gently; then he released him, and von 
  Horst walked away toward the trees and the river. He 
  194 
  
   
  lay down on his belly and drank, and the mammoth came 
  and drank beside him. 
  Von Horst could not know how long he remained there 
  among the trees beside the river. He caught fish and 
  gathered nuts and fruit and ate and slept several times; 
  and he fashioned a bow and arrows and a good, stout 
  spear. He made his spear with a thought to tarags. It 
  was longer than the spears he had had before, but not too 
  long; and it was heavy. The wood of which it was made 
  was long-grained and pliant. It would not break easily. 
  While he was there he saw Old White often. The great 
  beast fed in a great patch of bamboo that grew beside 
  the river only a short distance from the tree in which von 
  Horst had constructed a rude shelter. Often, when not 
  feeding, it came and stood beneath the tree that housed 
  the man. Upon such occasions von Horst made it a point 
  always to handle the beast and talk to it, for it offered 
  him the only companionship that he had. After awhile 
  he came to look forward to Old White's return, and 
  worry a little if he seemed gone over-long. It was a 
  strange friendship, this between a man and a mammoth; 
  and in it von Horst thought he recognized a parallel to 
  the accidents that had resulted eons before in the begin-
  ning of the domestication of animals upon the outer 
  crust. 
  His weapons completed, von Horst determined to set 
  off upon his search for Lo-har. He did not expect ever to 
  find the country, but he had to have an objective. It 
  was just as likely that he would stumble upon Sari as 
  that he should find Lo-har, but he could not simply re-
  main where he was waiting for death by accident or old 
  age. Furthermore, a sense of humor as well as curiosity 
  impelled him to wish to see the fabulous Gaz. 
  Old White was standing under a nearby tree, out of 
  the heat of the noon-day sun, swaying gently to and fro; 
  195 
  
   
  and von Horst walked over to give him a final good-by 
  caress, for he had grown to be genuinely fond of his 
  gigantic friend and companion. 
  "I'm going to miss you, old boy," he said. "You and 
  I've been places and done things. Good luck to you!" and 
  he gave the rough trunk a final slap as he turned and 
  walked away into the unknown upon his hopeless quest 
  As his eyes scanned the broad, horizonless vista that 
  melted into a soft vignette at the uttermost range of 
  human eye-sight it was difficult to reconcile the complete 
  primitiveness of this untouched world with his knowl-
  edge that a bare five-hundred miles beneath his feet 
  might be a city teeming with the traffic and the concerns 
  of countless humans like himself who went their various 
  ways and lived their lives confronted by no greater 
  menace than a reckless driver or a banana peel thrown 
  carelessly upon the pavement. 
  It amused him to speculate upon what his friends 
  might say could they see him now, the trim, sophisti-
  cated Lieutenant Frederich Wilhelm Eric von Mendel-
  dorf und von Horst naked but for a loin-cloth, a man of 
  the Pleistocene if ever there was one. And then his 
  thoughts turned back to Pellucidar and La-ja. He won-
  dered why she disliked him so, and he winced at the 
  insistent realization this reverie conjured. He had sought 
  to deny it and beat it down below the threshold of his 
  consciousness, but it persisted with the insistent deter-
  mination of a stricken conscience. He loved her; he loved 
  this little barbarian who was as unconscious of the exist-
  ence of an alphabet as of finger-bowls. 
  He plodded on sunk deep in reverie, which is no way 
  to plod Pellucidar where one must be either very quick 
  or very dead. He did not hear the thing that walked be-
  hind him, for it walked on padded feet—he was thinking 
  of La-ja of Lo-har. Then, suddenly, he was startled into 
  196 
  
   
  consciousness of his surroundings and the need for con-
  stant vigilance; but too late. Something seized him around 
  the waist and swept him off his feet. As he was lifted high 
  in air he squirmed and looked down into the rough and 
  hairy face of Old White; then he was lowered gently to 
  the broad neck. He almost laughed aloud in his relief. 
  Instantly he felt new hope for the future—that will com-
  panionship do, even the companionship of a dumb beast. 
  "You old son-of-a-gun!" he exclaimed. "You nearly 
  scared the breech-cloth off me, but I am glad to see you! 
  Guess you get lonesome, too, eh? Neither of us seems to 
  have many friends. Well, we'll stick together as long as 
  you'll stick." 
  Through dangers that must otherwise have seemed 
  fatal Old White bore the man-thing for whom he had 
  conceived this strange attachment. Even the mighty 
  tarag slunk aside out of the path of the mammoth; no 
  bull of the great herds through which they passed 
  charged. Once a thipdar circled about them, the great 
  Pteranodon of the Lias which could carry off a full 
  grown bull Bos. Beneath the shadow of its twenty foot 
  wing spread they moved, the mammoth unconcerned, 
  the man apprehensive; but it did not dive to the attack. 
  They stopped at intervals to feed and water and to 
  sleep; but as time meant nothing in this timeless world, 
  von Horst made no effort to compute it. He only knew 
  that they must be a long way from Ja-ru. Often he 
  walked to rest his muscles, and Old White plodded so 
  close to him that his hairy trunk usually touched the 
  naked body of the man. 
  To occupy his mind, von Horst had taught the beast 
  several things—to raise him to its head upon command 
  and to lower him to the ground, to kneel and to lie down, 
  to walk or trot or charge at the proper signal, to lift and 
  carry objects, to place his head against a tree and push 
  197 
  
   
  it down, or to encircle one with its trunk and uproot it. 
  Old White seemed to enjoy learning and to be proud 
  of his accomplishments. That he was highly intelligent, 
  von Horst had long realized; and there was one charac-
  teristic of the mighty beast that proved it to the man 
  beyond doubt. That was Old White's sense of humor. It 
  was so well developed that there could be no mistaking 
  it, and there were occasions when von Horst could have 
  sworn that the mammoth grinned in appreciation of his 
  own jokes, one of which was to seize the man by an ankle 
  from behind and swing him into the air; but he never 
  dropped him nor ever hurt him, always lowering him 
  to the ground gently. Again, if he thought von Horst had 
  slept too long, he would place a foot upon his body and 
  pretend to trample him, holding him down; or he would 
  fill his trunk with water and shower him. The man never 
  knew what to expect nor when to expect it, but he soon 
  learned that Old White would never harm him. 
  Von Horst had no idea how far they had travelled; but 
  he knew it must have been a considerable distance, yet 
  they had passed no village nor seen a human being. He 
  marvelled at the vast expanse of uninhabited country 
  given over entirely to wild animals. Thus had been the 
  outer crust at one time. Yet, as he thought of conditions 
  there now, it seemed incredible. 
  Whether he was nearer to Lo-har than before he could 
  not guess. Often the excursion seemed hair-brained and 
  hopeless. But what else was there for him to do? He 
  might as well keep moving whether in the right direc-
  tion or the wrong. Had he had a human companion—had 
  La-ja been with him—he might have been reconciled to 
  settle permanently in one of the many beautiful valleys 
  he had crossed; but to live always alone in one place 
  was unthinkable. And so he pushed on, exploring a new 
  world that no one might ever know about but himself. 
  198 
  
   
  Each new rise of ground that he approached aroused 
  his enthusiasm for the unknown. What lay beyond the 
  summit? 
  What new scenes would be revealed? Thus once, as 
  Old White moved ponderously up a slight acclivity, the 
  man's mind conjectured what might lie beyond the sum-
  mit they were approaching, his anticipation of new 
  scenes and his enthusiasm seemingly undiminished; then 
  he heard a deep bellow, followed by others. Mingled 
  with them seemed to be the voices of men. 
  To von Horst men meant enemies, so definitely had he 
  habituated himself to the reactions of the stone age; but 
  he determined to have a look at these people. Perhaps 
  they were Lo-harians. Perhaps he had reached Lo-har! 
  The sounds suggested men driving a herd of cattle in 
  which were many bulls, for the deep tones of the bellows 
  gave color to his belief that there were mostly bulls be-
  yond the ridge. 
  Slipping from Old White's back, von Horst ordered 
  the great beast to remain where it was; then he crept 
  stealthily forward, hoping to reach the summit of the 
  ridge unobserved. In this he was successful, and a mo-
  ment later he was looking down upon a scene that might 
  well have made him question the credibility of his eye-
  sight. 
  He lay upon the edge of a low cliff, and below him 
  were four creatures such as might have materialized 
  only from a bad dream. They had the bodies of men-
  squat, stocky men. Their faces, their shoulders, and 
  their breasts were covered with long, brown hair. From 
  opposite sides of their foreheads protruded short, heavy 
  horns much like the horns of a bison; and they had tails 
  with a bushy tuft of hair at the end. From their throats 
  issued the bull-like bellows he had heard, as well as the 
  speech of men. 
  199 
  
   
  They carried no weapons; and it was evident that 
  they were being held at bay by some creature or crea-
  tures that were hidden from the sight of von Horst by 
  the overhanging of the cliff upon which he lay, for every 
  time they started to approach closer to the cliff frag-
  ments of stone would fly out and drive them back. This 
  always set them to bellowing angrily; and sometimes one 
  or another of them would stamp the ground or paw up 
  the dust with a foot, for all the world like a mad bull; 
  so that von Horst thought of them then and always as 
  the bison-men. 
  From the fact that missiles were being hurled at these 
  creatures by their prey, von Horst assumed that the latter 
  might be human beings; though, of course, in Pellucidar 
  they might be any strange variety of man or beast. That 
  they were bison-men, he doubted; as he noticed that 
  none of the four threw rocks in return, as he was 
  reasonably certain they would have done had they been 
  sufficiently intelligent. 
  Occasionally he caught a word or two as the four 
  spoke to one another, and he discovered that they spoke 
  the common language of the human beings of Pellucidar. 
  Presently one of them raised his voice and shouted to 
  whatever it was they had brought to bay at the foot of 
  the cliff. 
  "Stop throwing rocks, gilak," he said. "It will only go 
  worse with you when we get you, and we shall get you 
  —be sure of that. You have neither food nor water; so 
  you must come out or starve." 
  "What do you want of us?" demanded a voice from 
  the bottom of the cliff. 
  "We want the woman," replied the bison-man who had 
  previously spoken. 
  "You don't want me?" demanded the voice. 
  200 
  
   
  "Only to kill you; but if you give us the woman, we 
  will spare you." 
  "How do I know you'll keep your word?" 
  "We do not lie," replied the bison-man. "Bring her 
  here and we will let you go." 
  "I bring her," announced the voice from below. 
  "The son of a pig!" ejaculated von Horst beneath his 
  breath. 
  A moment later he saw a man emerge from below the 
  overhang of the cliff, dragging a woman by the hair. In-
  stantly he was upon his feet, charged with horror and 
  with rage; for at the first glance he had recognized them 
  —Skruf and La-ja. 
  A sheer drop of thirty or forty feet to the ground be-
  low left him temporarily helpless, and for a moment he 
  could only stand and look down upon the tragedy; then 
  he fitted an arrow to his bow, but Skruf was partially 
  shielded by the body of the girl. Von Horst could not 
  shoot without endangering her. 
  "La-ja!" he cried. The girl tried to turn her head back 
  in the direction of his voice. Skruf and the bison-men 
  looked up at the figure standing upon the top of the cliff. 
  "One side, La-ja!" he called. "Go to one side!" 
  Instantly she swung to the right, turning Skruf side-
  ways so that he was fully exposed to the archer whose 
  bow was already drawn. The bow-string twanged. Skruf 
  screamed and went down clutching at the feathered shaft 
  sunk deep in his body, and as he fell he released his hold 
  upon La-ja's hair. 
  "Run!" commanded von Horst. "Run parallel to the 
  cliff and I will follow until I find a way down." 
  Already, recovered from their first surprise, the bison-
  men were running toward the girl; but she had a little 
  start, and with luck she might outdistance them. Their 
  heavy, squat figures did not seem designed for speed. 
  201 
  
   
  Von Horst turned and called to Old White to follow; 
  then he ran along the cliff-top a little behind La-ja. Al-
  most at once he realized that the appearance of the 
  bison-men belied their agility—they were overhauling the 
  girl. Again he fitted an arrow to his bow. Just for an 
  instant he paused—long enough to take aim at the leading 
  bison-man and release the shaft; then he sprang forward, 
  but he had lost ground that he could not regain. How-
  ever, he had temporarily widened the gap between La-ja 
  and her pursuers; for the leading bison-man lay grovel-
  ing on the ground, an arrow through his back. 
  The others were closing up, and again von Horst was 
  forced to stop and shoot. As before, the girl's closest 
  pursuer pitched to the ground. The fellow rolled over 
  and over, but when he stopped he lay very still. Now 
  there were only two, but again von Horst had lost 
  distance. He tried to gain on them but he could not. At 
  last he halted and sent two more arrows after the re-
  maining bison-men. The nearer fell, but he missed the 
  other. Twice after that he loosed his shafts; but the last 
  one fell short, and he knew that the man was out of 
  range—out of range and rapidly gaining on his quarry. 
  Just ahead of the fleeing girl loomed a forest of giant 
  trees. If she could reach these she might elude her pur-
  suer, and she was fleet of foot. 
  In silence the three raced on, von Horst on the cliff-top 
  barely maintaining his ground; then the girl disappeared 
  among the boles of the great trees; and a moment later 
  the bison-man followed her. Von Horst was frantic. The 
  interminable cliff offered no avenue of descent. There 
  was nothing to do but continue on until he found such a 
  place, but in the meantime what would become of La-ja? 
  To have found her so unexpectedly, to have been so 
  close to her, and then to have lost her left him heart-sick 
  and hopeless. Still, he knew now that she lived; and that 
  202 
  
   
  was something. And now, close behind him, he heard the 
  familiar trumpeting of Old White; and a moment later a 
  hairy trunk encircled him and swung him to the now 
  familiar seat in the hollow back of the massive skull. 
  Just beyond the edge of the forest they came upon a 
  rift in the escarpment; and here the mammoth, finding 
  precarious foot-hold, picked his way carefully down. Von 
  Horst turned him back to the point at which La-ja had 
  disappeared; but here he was forced to dismount, as 
  the trees grew too closely to permit the great beast to 
  enter the forest, and he could neither uproot nor push 
  over the giant boles. 
  As von Horst left Old White to enter the forest he had 
  a premonition that this was the last time that he would 
  ever see his faithful friend and ally; and it was with a 
  heavy heart that he passed into the grim, forbidding 
  wood. 
  Only for an instant was his mind occupied with 
  thoughts of Old White, for at a distance he heard a faint 
  scream; and then a voice called his name twice—"Von! 
  Von!"—the voice of the woman he loved. 
  XIX 
  KRU 
  GUIDED ONLY BY the memory of that faint cry in the dis-
  tance, von Horst pushed on into the forest. Never had he 
  seen trees of such size growing in such close proximity, 
  often so near to one another that there was just room for 
  him to pass between. There was no trail, and because of 
  the zig-zag course he was forced to pursue he soon lost 
  all sense of direction. Twice he had called La-ja's name 
  203 
  
   
  aloud, hoping that she would reply and thus give him a 
  new clue to her whereabouts, but there had been no 
  answer. He realized that about all he had accomplished 
  had been to apprize her captor that he was being pur-
  sued and thus put him on his guard; so, though he moved 
  as rapidly as he could, he was most watchful. 
  As he hurried on he became more and more imbued 
  with a sense of frustration and the futility of his search, 
  feeling that he was quite probably moving in circles and 
  getting nowhere. He was even impressed by the prob-
  ability that he might never even find his way out of this 
  labyrinthine maze of gloomy trees, to say nothing of reach-
  ing La-ja in time to be of any service to her. And thus 
  his mind was occupied by gloomy thoughts when he 
  came suddenly to the end of the forest. Before him lay 
  the mouth of a canyon leading into low but rugged hills, 
  and here at last was a trail. It wound, well marked, into 
  the canyon. 
  With renewed hope von Horst stepped confidently out 
  to follow wherever the way might lead; for a brief ex-
  amination told his now practiced eyes that someone had 
  recently entered the canyon at this point, and faintly in 
  the dust of the trail he saw the imprint of a tiny foot. 
  The canyon was little more than a narrow, rocky gorge 
  winding snake-like into the hills; and as he proceeded he 
  passed the mouths of other similar gorges that entered 
  it at intervals; but the main trail was plain, and he con-
  tinued upon it, certain now that he must soon overtake 
  La-ja and her captor. 
  He had been for some little time in the gorge and was 
  becoming impatient with each fresh disappointment 
  when he rounded a bend and did not see those he sought 
  ahead of him, when he heard a noise behind. He turned 
  quickly and saw a bison-man creeping stealthily upon 
  him. The instant that the fellow realized he had been 
  204 
  
   
  discovered he voiced a bellow that might have issued 
  from the throat of an angry bull. It was answered from 
  down the gorge and from up, and then others came 
  rapidly into view both in front and behind. 
  Von Horst was trapped. Upon either side the walls of 
  the canyon, while not high, were unscalable; and behind 
  him were bison-men cutting off retreat, and in front were 
  bison-men effectually blocking his advance. Now they 
  were all bellowing. The rocky walls of the gorge re-
  verberated the angry, bestial chorus of challenge and of 
  menace. They had been waiting for him. Von Horst 
  knew it now. They had heard him call to La-ja. They 
  had known he was following, and they had waited in the 
  concealment of one of the gorges he had passed. How 
  easily they had trapped him. But what might he have 
  done to prevent it? How else might he search for La-ja 
  without following where she went? 
  What was he to do now? The bison-men were coming 
  toward him very slowly. They seemed to hold him in 
  great respect. He wondered if the abductor of La-ja had 
  had either the time or opportunity to tell his fellows of 
  the havoc this strange gilak had played with the four 
  that had first met him. That was one of the tantalizing 
  characteristics of the inner world—that one might never 
  know the measure of elapsed time, which might easily 
  gauge the difference between life and death. 
  "What are you doing here in our country?" demanded 
  the nearest of the bison-men. 
  "I have come for the woman," replied von Horst. "She 
  is mine. Where is she?" 
  "Who are you? We never saw a gilak like you before, 
  or one who could send death from a long way off on 
  little sticks." 
  "Get me the woman," demanded von Horst, "or I'll 
  send death to you all." He withdrew an arrow from his 
  205 
  
   
  quiver and fitted it to his bow. 
  "You cannot kill us all," said the creature. "You have 
  not as many sticks as there are Ganaks." 
  "What are Ganaks?" asked von Horst. 
  "We are Ganaks. We will take you to Drovan. If he 
  says not to kill you, we will not kill you." 
  "Is the woman there?" 
  "Yes." 
  "Then I will go. Where is she?" 
  "Follow the Ganaks in front of you up the gorge." 
  They all moved on then in the direction that von Horst 
  had been going, and presently they came to a large, open 
  valley in which there were many trees dotted pictur-
  esquely over gently rolling ground. Out upon the plain 
  a short distance lay what appeared to be a circular, 
  palisaded village; and toward this the bison-men led the 
  way. 
  As he came nearer, von Horst saw that there were 
  fields of growing crops outside the village and that in 
  these fields men and women were working—human be-
  ings like himself, not Ganaks; but there were many 
  Ganak bulls loitering around. These performed no labor. 
  A single small gateway led into the village which con-
  sisted of a complete circle of mud huts, one adjoining the 
  other except in this one spot where the gateway lay. 
  Trees grew all around the circle in front of the huts, 
  spreading shade trees. In the center of the large com-
  pound was a cluster of huts, and here too there were 
  shade trees. 
  To these central huts his guides led von Horst, and 
  here he saw a large bison-man standing in the shade 
  switching the flies from his legs with his tufted tail. 
  Facing him stood La-ja with her captor, and half sur-
  rounding them was a curious throng of Ganaks. 
  As the new party approached, the big bull looked in 
  206 
  
   
  their direction. He had massive horns, and the hair upon 
  his face and shoulders and chest was heavy. His small, 
  round eyes, set wide apart, were red-rimmed and fierce as 
  they glowered menacingly at von Horst. His head was 
  lowered, much after the manner of a beast's. 
  "What is this?" he demanded, indicating von Horst. 
  "This is the gilak that killed the three who were with 
  me," said La-ja's captor. 
  "Tell me again how he killed them," directed the big 
  bull. 
  "He sent little sticks to kill them," said the other. 
  "Little sticks do not kill, Trun. You are a fool or a liar." 
  "Little sticks did kill the three that were with me and 
  another that was there, a gilak. I saw them kill, Drovan. 
  See them? They are in that thing upon his back." 
  "Fetch a slave," commanded Drovan, "an old one that 
  is not much good." 
  Von Horst stood there gazing at La-ja. He scarcely saw 
  or heard what was going on about him. La-ja was looking 
  at him. Her face was almost expressionless. 
  "So you are not dead yet," she said. 
  "I heard you call me, La-ja," he said. "I came as soon 
  as I could." 
  She raised her chin. "I did not call you," she said 
  haughtily. 
  Von Horst was dumbfounded. He had heard her call, 
  plainly, twice. Suddenly he became angry. His face 
  flushed. "You are a little fool," he said. "You are ab-
  solutely without appreciation or gratitude. You are not 
  worth saving." Then he turned his back on her. 
  Instantly he regretted his words; but he was hurt—hurt 
  as he never had been in his life before. And he was too 
  proud to retract what he had said. 
  A bison-man approached bringing an old slave woman 
  207 
  
   
  with him. He led her to Drovan. The chief gave her a 
  rough push. 
  "Go over there and stand," he ordered. 
  The old woman moved slowly away—a bent and help-
  less old creature. 
  "That's far enough," shouted Drovan. "Stand there, 
  where you are." 
  "You!" he bellowed, pointing at von Horst. "What is 
  your name?" 
  The man eyed the half-beast insolently. He was mad 
  all the way through—mad at himself and the world. 
  "When you speak to me, don't bellow," he said. 
  Drovan lashed his legs angrily with his tail and low-
  ered his head like a mad bull about to charge. He took 
  a few slow steps toward von Horst; and then he stopped 
  and pawed the ground with one foot and bellowed, but 
  the man did not retreat, nor did he show fear. 
  Suddenly the chief espied the old slave woman stand-
  ing out in the compound as he had directed her; then he 
  turned again to von Horst. He pointed at the old woman. 
  "If your sticks will kill," he said, "kill her. But I do not 
  believe that they will kill." 
  "My sticks will kill," said von Horst. "The Ganaks will 
  see that they will kill." 
  He took a few steps out into the compound toward 
  the old slave woman and fitted an arrow to his bow; 
  then he turned toward Drovan and pointed at La-ja. 
  "Will you set that girl and myself free if I show you 
  that my little sticks will kill?" he demanded. 
  "No," growled the chief. 
  Von Horst shrugged. "Let it be on your own shoulders," 
  he said; and with that he drew back the feathered shaft, 
  and before anyone could guess his intention or interfere 
  he drove it through Drovan's heart. 
  Instantly the compound was a riot of bellowing bulls. 
  208 
  
   
  They fell upon von Horst before he could fit another 
  arrow to his bow and by weight of numbers bore him to 
  the ground, striking him with their fists and trying to gore 
  him with their horns; but there were so many of them 
  that they interfered with one another. 
  The man was pretty nearly done for when the attention 
  of his attackers was attracted by a voice of authority. 
  "Do not kill," it commanded. "Let him up. It is I, Kru 
  the Chief, who speaks." 
  Instantly the bulls abandoned von Horst and turned 
  on the speaker. 
  "Who says Kru is chief?" demanded one. "It is I, Tant, 
  who will be chief now that Drovan is dead." 
  During the argument von Horst had dragged himself 
  to his feet. He was half stunned for a moment, but he 
  soon gathered his wits. Quickly he hunted for his bow 
  and found it. Some of the arrows that had dropped from 
  his quiver during the melee he found and retrieved. 
  Now his mind was alert. He looked about him. All the 
  bulls were watching the two claimants for the chieftain-
  ship, but some of them were ranging themselves closer 
  to Kru than to Tant. A few went hesitantly to Tant's 
  side. It looked like Kru to von Horst. He stepped over 
  near those who were assembling around Kru. 
  Surreptitiously he fitted an arrow to his bow. He knew 
  that he was taking a wild chance; and his better judg-
  ment told him to mind his own business, but he was still 
  angry and indifferent as to whether he lived or not. Sud-
  denly he straightened up. "Kru is chief!" he cried. 
  Simultaneously he drove an arrow into Tant's chest. 
  "Are there any others who will not accept Kru as chief?" 
  he demanded. 
  Some of them who had gathered around Tant ran to 
  strike him down; they charged with lowered horns like 
  bulls. But those about Kru charged to meet them; and 
  209 
  
   
  as they fought, von Horst moved backward slowly until 
  he stood with his back against the chiefs hut. Close to 
  him stood La-ja. He paid no attention to her, although it 
  was plain to her that he was aware of her presence. 
  The man was engrossed in the strange tactics of these 
  half-beasts. When they did not clinch they dove with 
  lowered heads for the belly of an antagonist, seeking to 
  disembowel him with their heavy horns. Oftentimes they 
  met head on with such terrific force that both were 
  knocked down. When they clinched, each antagonist 
  seized another by the shoulders; and, straining and tug-
  ging., they sought to gore each other in the face or neck 
  or chest. 
  It was a scene of savage fury made more terrifying by 
  the bellowing and snorting of the combatants; but it 
  was soon over, for those who opposed Kru were few in 
  numbers and without a leader. One by one, those who 
  survived broke away and retreated, leaving the field to 
  Kru. 
  The new chief, overcome by his importance, strutted 
  about pompously. He sent immediately for the women of 
  Drovan and Tant, of which there were about thirty; and 
  after selecting half of them for himself turned the others 
  over to his followers to be divided by lot. 
  In the meantime von Horst and La-ja remained in the 
  background practically unnoticed by the bison-men, nor 
  did they call attention to themselves, as it was obvious 
  that the bulls were worked up to a frenzy of hysterical 
  excitement by all that had so recently transpired and by 
  the sight and smell of blood. Presently, however, the eyes 
  of an old bull fell upon them; and he commenced to 
  bellow deep in his chest and paw the ground. He ap-
  proached them, lowering his head as though about to 
  charge. Von Horst fitted an arrow to his bow. The bull 
  hesitated; then he turned toward Kru. 
  210 
  
   
  "The gilaks," he said. "When do we kill the gilaks or 
  set them to work?" 
  Kru looked in the direction of the speaker. Von Horst 
  waited for the chiefs answer. It had been upon the hope 
  of his gratitude that he had based his hopes for liberty 
  for himself and La-ja, for he was still thinking of the 
  girl's welfare. He found that he could not do otherwise, 
  no matter how ungrateful she might be. He wondered 
  how much gratitude, then, he might expect from this 
  brutal bison-man if La-ja accorded him none. 
  "Well," said the old bull, "do we kill the gilaks or do 
  we put them to work in the fields?" 
  "Kill the she!" cried one of the women. 
  "No," growled Kru, "the she shall not be killed. Take 
  them away and put them in a hut and guard them. 
  Later Kru will decide what to do with the man." 
  Von Horst and La-ja were taken to a filthy hut. They 
  were not bound. The man's weapons were not taken away 
  from him, and he could only assume that their captors 
  were too stupid and unimaginative to sense the necessity 
  for such precautions. La-ja went to one side of the hut 
  and sat down, von Horst to the other. They did not 
  speak. The man did not even look at the woman, but 
  her eyes were often upon him. 
  He was unhappy and almost without hope. If she had 
  been kind to him, even civil, he might have envisioned a 
  future worth fighting for with enthusiasm; but now, with-
  out hope of her love, there seemed nothing. The knowl-
  edge that he loved her aroused in him only self-contempt, 
  while it should have been a source of pride. He felt 
  only a dull sense of duty to her because she was a 
  woman. He knew that he would try to save her. He knew 
  that he would fight for her, but he felt no elation. 
  Presently he lay down and slept. He dreamed that he 
  slept in a clean bed between cool sheets, and that when 
  211 
  
   
  he awoke he put on fresh linen and well pressed clothes 
  and went down to a sumptuous dinner at a perfectly 
  appointed table. A waiter, bringing a salver of food, 
  bumped against his shoulder. 
  He awoke to see a woman standing beside him. She 
  had kicked his shoulder. "Wake up," she said. "Here is 
  your fodder." 
  She dumped an armful of fresh-cut grass and some 
  vegetables on the filthy floor beside him. "It is for the 
  woman, too," she said. 
  Von Horst sat up and looked at the woman. She was 
  not a Ganak, but a human being like himself. "What is 
  the grass for?" he asked. 
  "To eat," she replied. 
  "We do not eat grass," he said, "and there are not 
  enough vegetables here to make a meal for one." 
  "You will eat grass here or you will starve," said the 
  woman. "We slaves are not allowed many vegetables." 
  "How about meat?" inquired von Horst. 
  "The Ganaks do not eat meat; so there is no meat to 
  eat. I have been here for more sleeps than I can remem-
  ber, and I have never seen anyone eat meat. You'll get 
  used to the grass after awhile." 
  "Do they put all their prisoners to work in the fields?" 
  asked von Horst. 
  "You never can tell what they will do. As a rule they 
  keep the women and work them in the fields until they 
  get too old; then they kill them. If they are short of slaves 
  they keep the men for awhile; otherwise they kill them 
  immediately. They have kept me for many sleeps. I 
  belong to Splay. They will give this woman to some one, 
  because she is young. They will probably kill you, as 
  they have plenty of slaves now—more than they care to 
  feed." 
  When the woman had gone, von Horst gathered up 
  212 
  
   
  the vegetables and placed them beside La-ja. The girl 
  looked up at him. Her eyes flashed. 
  "Why do you do such things?" she demanded. "I do 
  not want you to do anything for me. I do not want to 
  like you." 
  Von Horst shrugged. "You are succeeding very well," 
  he said, drily. 
  She mumbled something that he could not catch and 
  commenced to divide the vegetables into two parts. 
  "You eat your share and I shall eat mine," she said. 
  "There are not enough for one, let alone two. You'd 
  better keep them all," he insisted. "Anyway, I don't care 
  much for raw vegetables." 
  "Then you can leave them. I'll not eat them. If you 
  don't like the vegetables, eat the grass." 
  Von Horst relapsed into silence and commenced to 
  gnaw on a tuber. It was better than nothing—that was 
  about all he could say for it. As the girl ate she oc-
  casionally glanced at the man furtively. Once he glanced 
  up and caught her eyes on him, and she looked away 
  quickly. 
  "Why do you dislike me, La-ja?" he asked. "What have 
  I done." 
  "I don't wish to talk about it. I don't wish to talk to 
  you at all." 
  "You're not fair," he remonstrated. "If I knew what 
  I'd done, I might correct it. It would be much pleasanter 
  if we were friends, for we may have to see a lot of each 
  other before we get to Lo-har." 
  "We'll never get to Lo-har." 
  "Don't give up hope. These people are stupid. We 
  ought to be able to out-wit them and escape." 
  "We won't; but if we did, you wouldn't be going to 
  Lo-har." 
  "I'm going wherever you go," he replied doggedly. 
  213 
  
   
  "Why do you want to go to Lo-har? You'd only be 
  killed. Gaz would break you in two. But why do you 
  want to go at all?" 
  "Because you are going," he said. He spoke scarcely 
  above a whisper, as though to himself. 
  She looked at him intently, questioningly. Her expres-
  sion underwent a barely perceptible change, which he 
  did not note because he was not looking at her. It 
  seemed a little less uncompromising. There was the dif-
  ference between granite and ice—ice is very cold and 
  hard, but it does thaw. 
  "If you would only tell me what I have done," he in-
  sisted—"why you do not like me." 
  "That, I could not say to you," she replied. "If you 
  were not a fool, you'd know." 
  He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I guess I 
  am; so please tell rne because I am such a fool." 
  "No," she replied emphatically. 
  "Couldn't you give me a clue?-just a little hint?" 
  She thought for a moment. "Perhaps I could do that," 
  she said. "You remember that you struck me and carried 
  me away from Basti by force?" 
  "I did it for your own good, and I apologized," he re-
  minded her. 
  "But you did it." 
  "Yes." 
  "And you didn't do anything about it," she insisted. 
  "I don't know what you mean," he said hopelessly. 
  "If I believed that, I might forgive you; but I don't 
  believe anyone can be such a fool." 
  He sought to find some explanation of the riddle; but 
  though he racked his brains, he could think of none. 
  What could he have done about it? 
  "Perhaps," said La-ja presently, "neither one of us 
  understands the other. Tell me just exactly why you in- 
  214 
  
   
  sist on going to Lo-har with me; and if your reason is 
  what I am beginning to suspect it is, I'll tell you why I 
  have not liked you." 
  "That's a bet," exclaimed the man. "I want to go to 
  Lo-har because—" 
  Two bison-men burst into the hut, cutting him short. 
  "Come!" they commanded. "Now Kru is going to have 
  you killed." 
  XX THE 
  BELLOWING HERD 
  THE TWO Ganaks motioned La-ja to accompany them. 
  "Kru has sent for you, too," they said; "but he is not 
  going to kill you," they added, grinning. 
  As they passed through the village toward the hut of 
  the chief, many of the Ganaks were lying in the shade of 
  the numerous trees that grew within the compound. 
  Some were eating the grass that had been cut by the 
  slaves; others were placidly chewing their cuds, drows-
  ing with half-closed eyes. Some of the children played 
  sporadically and briefly, but the adults neither played 
  nor laughed nor conversed. They were typical ruminants, 
  seemingly as stupid. They wore neither ornaments nor 
  clothing, nor had they any weapons. 
  To their lack of weapons, coupled with their stupidity, 
  von Horst attributed the fact that they had not relieved 
  him of his. He still had his bow and arrows and a knife, 
  though he had not recovered his spear which he had 
  dropped during the fight following his slaying of Drovan. 
  The prisoners were led before Kru who lay in the 
  shade of the great tree that overspread his hut, the hut 
  that had been Drovan's so recently. He looked at them 
  215 
  
   
  through his red-rimmed eyes, but mostly he looked at 
  La-ja. "You belong to me," he said to her; "you belong 
  to the chief. Pretty soon you go in hut; now you stay 
  outside, watch gilak man die. You will see how you die if 
  you make Kru mad." Then he turned to a bull lying be-
  side him. "Splay, go tell the slaves to bring the dancing-
  water and the death-tree." 
  "What's the idea?" demanded von Horst. "Why should 
  you kill me? If it hadn't been for me you wouldn't be 
  chief." 
  "Too many men slaves," grunted Kru. "They eat too 
  much. Dancing water good; death-tree fun." 
  "Fun for whom—me?" 
  "No, fun for Ganaks; no fun for gilak." 
  Presently Splay returned with a number of slaves. 
  Several of the men carried a small tree that had been 
  stripped of its branches; other men and the women bore 
  quantities of small sticks and rude jars and gourds filled 
  with a liquid. 
  At sight of them the bison-men commenced to gather 
  from all parts of the village; their women came too, but 
  the young were chased away. They sat down forming a 
  great circle about the tree before the chiefs hut. A slave 
  passed a jar to one in the circle. He took a long draught 
  and passed it to the next in line. Thus it started around 
  the circle. The slaves bearing the other gourds and jars 
  followed it around just outside the circle. When it had 
  been emptied another was started at that point. 
  The men slaves who bore the small tree trunk dug a 
  hole in the ground in an open space between the chiefs 
  hut and the village gate. When the hole was sufficiently 
  deep they set the tree upright in it and tamped dirt 
  around it. It protruded about six feet above the surface 
  of the ground. And while this was going on many gourds 
  and jars had been passed around the circle. Now men 
  216 
  
   
  and women were bellowing, and presently a woman 
  arose and began to leap and skip in clumsy, awkward 
  simulation of a dance. Soon others joined her, both men 
  and women, until all the adults of the village were leap-
  ing and staggering and lurching about the compound. 
  "Dancing-water," said von Horst to La-ja, with a grin. 
  "Yes, it is the water that takes men's brains away. 
  Sometimes it makes brave men of cowards and beasts of 
  brave men and always fools of all men. Gaz drinks much 
  of it before he kills." 
  "That must be the tree of death over there." Von Horst 
  nodded in the direction of the sapling the slaves had fin-
  ished setting up. Now they were piling dry grass and 
  leaves and sticks all around it. 
  "The death tree!" whispered La-ja. "What is it for?" 
  "For me," said the man. 
  "But how? I do not understand. It can't be that they 
  are going to—. Oh, no; they can't be." 
  "But they are, La-ja. Odd, isn't it?" 
  "What is odd?" 
  "That these creatures that are so near the beasts 
  couldn't think of such a thing by themselves nor ac-
  complish it. That only man of all the animals has the 
  faculty of devising torture for amusement." 
  "I had never thought of that," she said; "but it is true, 
  and it is also true that only man makes the drink that 
  steals away his brains and makes him like the beasts." 
  "Not like the beasts, La-ja—only more human; for it 
  removes his inhibitions and permits him to be himself." 
  She did not reply, but stood staring at the stake in the 
  center of the compound, fascinated. Von Horst watched 
  her lovely profile, wondering what was passing in that 
  half savage little brain. He knew that the end must be 
  nearing rapidly, but he had made no move to escape the 
  horrible death the slaves were preparing for him. If 
  217 
  
   
  there had been only himself to consider, he could have 
  made a break for liberty and died fighting; but there 
  was the girl. He wanted to save her far more than he 
  wanted to save himself. 
  All about them the bison-men were dancing and bel-
  lowing. He heard Kru shout, "Fire! Fire! Give us a fire 
  to dance around. More dance-water! Bring more dance-
  water, slaves!" 
  As the slaves refilled the jars and gourds, others built 
  a large fire near the stake; and the bellowing herd im-
  mediately commenced to circle it. With the lighting of 
  the fire the demeanor of the bison-men became more un-
  controlled, more boisterous, and more bestial; and with 
  the added stimulus of the new supply of drink they 
  threw aside all discretion. 
  To right and left they were falling to the ground— 
  those remaining on their feet so drunk that they could 
  scarcely stagger. Then some one raised the cry, "The 
  gilak! To the death-tree with him!" 
  It was taken up on all sides by those who could still 
  speak, and then Kru came staggering toward von Horst. 
  "To the death tree with him!" he bellowed. "The girl!" 
  he exclaimed. It was as though he had forgotten her un-
  til his eyes fell on her on that minute. "Come with me! 
  You are Kru's." He reached out a dirty paw to seize her. 
  "Not so fast!" said von Horst, stepping between them; 
  then he struck Kru in the face, knocking him down, 
  seized La-ja by the hand and started to run for the vil-
  lage gate, which the slaves had left open when they 
  brought in the tree and the fire-wood. Behind them was 
  the whole herd of bison-men, bellowing with rage as they 
  commenced to get it through their befuddled minds that 
  the prisoners were making a break for escape. In front 
  of them were the slaves. Would they try to stop them? 
  Von Horst dropped La-ja's hand and removed his now 
  218 
  
   
  useless cartridge belt. Useless? Not quite. A slave tried 
  to stop him, and lie swung the loaded belt to the side of 
  his head, knocking him down. 
  That and one look at von Horst's face sent the other 
  slaves scurrying out of his way, but now some of the 
  bison-men were taking up the pursuit. However, a single 
  backward glance assured von Horst that either he or 
  La-ja could out-distance them at the moment; as they had 
  difficulty in remaining on their feet at all, while those 
  that did moved about so erratically as to make the idea of 
  pursuit by them appear ridiculous. Nevertheless, they 
  were coming, and the gate was a long way off. To von 
  Horst's disgust, he saw that a few of the bison-men were 
  steadying. But their vile drink held most of them in a 
  state of helplessness. A few, however, had rallied and 
  formed a definitely menacing group as they followed the 
  two fugitives. 
  "I'll give 'em something to think about besides us," 
  said von Horst, and as they passed the roaring fire he 
  threw his cartridge belt into it. 
  As they neared the gate he spoke again to La-ja. 
  "Run," he said. "I'll try to hold them for a moment or 
  two"; then he wheeled and faced the oncoming bison-
  men. There were only about a dozen of them sober 
  enough to control their actions or hold to a fixed purpose. 
  The majority of the others were milling about the fire or 
  lying helpless on the ground, and even the dozen were 
  erratic in their movements. 
  Von Horst loosed an arrow at the nearest of the pur-
  suers. It caught him in the belly, and he went down 
  shrieking and bellowing. A second arrow bowled over 
  another. The remainder were quite close now, too close 
  for comfort. He sent another arrow into a third; and that 
  stopped them, momentarily at least. Then the cartridges 
  in the fire began to explode. At the first detonation those 
  219 
  
   
  who were pursuing the fugitives turned to see what had 
  caused this startling sound, and simultaneously von 
  Horst wheeled and started for the gate. 
  He found La-ja standing directly behind him, but she 
  too turned and ran the instant that she saw that he was 
  leaving. 
  "I thought I told you to run," he said. 
  "What good would it have done, if you had been re-
  captured or killed?" she demanded. "They would only 
  have caught me again. But it would have done them no 
  good. Kru would not have had me." 
  He saw then that she carried her stone knife in her 
  hand, and a lump rose in his throat from pity for her. He 
  wanted to take her in his arms from sympathy, but when 
  one is running from imminent death one cannot very 
  well take a woman who hates one into one's arms. 
  "But you might have escaped and reached Lo-har," he 
  protested. 
  "There are other things in the world beside reaching 
  Lo-har," she replied enigmatically. 
  They were past the gates now. Behind them rose the 
  din of exploding cartridges and the mad bellowing of the 
  bison-men. Before them stretched an open, rolling, tree-
  dotted valley. To their left was the great forest, to their 
  right a fringe of trees at the base of low, wooded cliffs. 
  Von Horst bore to the right. 
  "The forest is closer," suggested La-ja. 
  "It is in the wrong direction," he replied. "Lo-har 
  should lie in the direction we are going. It does, 
  doesn't it?" 
  "Yes, in this general direction." 
  "But more important is the fact that if we got into the 
  great forest we'd lose ourselves in no time—and no 
  telling where we'd come out." 
  La-ja glanced back. "I think they're gaining on us," 
  220 
  
   
  she said. "They are very fast." 
  Von Horst realized that they'd never reach the cliffs 
  ahead of their pursuers, that their break for liberty had 
  only delayed the inevitable. 
  "I have a few more arrows left," he said. "We can keep 
  on until they overtake us. Something may happen—a 
  miracle, and it will have to be a miracle. If nothing does, 
  we can make a stand for it. I may be able to kill off 
  enough of them to frighten the others away while we 
  make a fresh start for the cliffs." 
  "Not a chance," said La-ja. "Look back there near 
  the village." 
  Von Horst whistled. More warriors were emerging 
  from the gateway. Evidently Kru was sending all who 
  could stand on their feet to join in the pursuit. 
  "It looks like a hard winter," he remarked. 
  'Winter?" queried La-ja. "I see nothing but Ganaks. 
  Where is the winter?" She was panting from exertion, 
  and her words came in little gasps. 
  "Well, let it pass. We'd better save our breath for 
  running." 
  Thereafter they bent all their energies to the task of 
  out-distancing the bison-men, but without hope. Con-
  stantly they lost ground; yet they were nearing the cliffs 
  and the little fringe of wood that half hid them. 
  Von Horst did not know why he felt so certain that 
  they might be safe if they reached the cliffs; yet he did 
  feel it, and his judgment seemed justified by the fact 
  that the bison-men appeared so anxious to overtake them 
  as quickly as possible. If they had known that the fugi-
  tives could not escape even after reaching the cliffs, it 
  seemed reasonable to assume that they would have 
  shown less haste and excitement and would have trailed 
  more slowly and with far less exertion. 
  Presently La-ja stumbled and fell. Von Horst wheeled 
  221 
  
   
  and was at her side instantly. She seemed very weak as 
  he helped her to her feet. 
  "It's no use," she said. "I cannot go on. I have been 
  running away from Skruf for a long time, always with-
  out sufficient food or rest. It has made me weak. Go on 
  without me. You might easily save yourself. There is 
  nothing more that you can do for me." 
  "Don't worry," he said. "We'll make our stand here. 
  We'd have had to made it pretty soon anyway." 
  He turned to glance at the oncoming half-beasts. In a 
  moment they'd be within arrow range. There were nine 
  of them, and he had six arrows left. If he got six of the 
  pursuers he might bluff off the other three, but how 
  about the swarm that was now pouring up the valley 
  from the village? 
  He was thinking how futile was his foolish little stand 
  against such odds, when something impelled him to turn 
  suddenly and look at La-ja. It was one of those strange, 
  psychic phenomena which most of us have experienced, 
  and which many trained researchers ridicule; yet the 
  force which caused von Horst to turn about seemed al-
  most physical, so powerfully did it affect him and so 
  peremptorily. And as he turned he voiced a cry of alarm 
  and leaped forward, seizing La-ja's right wrist. 
  "La-ja!" he cried. "Thank the Lord I saw you." 
  He wrenched her stone knife from her fingers, and 
  then dropped her hand. He had broken out into a cold 
  sweat and was trembling. 
  "How could you? La-ja, how could you?" 
  "It is best," she said. "If I were dead you might escape. 
  Soon they will take us; and then we shall both die; for 
  they will kill you, and I will kill myself. I will not let 
  Kru have me." 
  "No," he said, "that is right; but wait until all hope is 
  gone." 
  222 
  
   
  "It is gone. You have already done too much for me. 
  The least I can do is to make you free to save yourself. 
  Give me back my knife." 
  He shook his head. 
  "But if they get me, and I have no knife, how can I 
  escape Kru?" 
  "I'll let you have it," he said, "if you'll promise not to 
  do that until after I am dead. As long as I live there is 
  hope." 
  "I promise," she said. "I do not want to die. I just 
  wanted to save you." 
  "Because you hate me?" he asked with a half-smile. 
  "Perhaps," she replied unsmilingly. "Perhaps I do not 
  want to be under such obligations to one I don't like—or 
  perhaps—" 
  He handed the knife back to her. "You have promised 
  me," he reminded her. 
  "I shall keep my promise. Look; they are very close." 
  He turned then and saw that the bison-men were al-
  most within bow-shot. He fitted an arrow and waited. 
  They saw, and came more slowly. Now they spread out 
  to afford him a poorer target. He had not given them 
  credit for that much sense. 
  'Til get some of them," he called back to La-ja. "I 
  wish you would run for the cliffs. I think you could make 
  it. I am sure I can hold them for a while." 
  The girl did not reply and he could not take his eyes 
  from the bison-men long enough even to glance back at 
  her. His bow twanged. A bison-man screamed and fell. 
  "I'm getting pretty hot at this archery stuff," he com-
  mented aloud. This evidence of childish pride upon the 
  very threshold of death amused him, and he smiled. He 
  thought that if he were home he could give exhibitions 
  at town fairs. Perhaps he could even learn to shoot back-
  ward through a mirror as he had seen rifle experts do. It 
  223 
  
   
  was all very amusing. He pictured the embarrassment 
  of his fellow officers and other friends when they saw 
  large colored lithographs announcing the coming of 
  "Lieutenant Frederich Wilhelm Eric von Mendeldorf 
  und von Horst, Champion Archer of the World. Admis-
  sion 25 pfennings." 
  He loosed another arrow, still smiling. "I think I shall 
  charge more admission," he mused as another bison-man 
  dropped, "I'm pretty good." 
  La-ja interrupted his amusing train of thought with 
  an exclamation of despair. "A tandor is coming, Von," 
  she cried. "It is coming for us. Its tail is up, and it is 
  coming straight for us. It must be an old bull that has 
  gone mad. They are terrible." 
  Von Horst glanced back. Yes, a mammoth was coming; 
  and it was coming straight as an arrow in their direction. 
  There could be no doubt but that it had seen them and 
  was trotting up to charge. When it got closer it would 
  trumpet, its tail and trunk and ears would all go up; and 
  it would barge down on them like a runaway locomotive. 
  There would be no escaping it. Bison-men in front, a 
  mad mammoth in the rear! 
  "This doesn't seem to be our lucky day," he said. 
  "Day?" inquired La-ja. "What is day?" 
  The bison-men were watching the mammoth. Behind 
  them their fellows were approaching rapidly. Soon 
  there would be fully a hundred of them. Von Horst 
  wondered if they would stand the charge of a mammoth. 
  They bore no arms. How could they defend themselves. 
  Then he glanced back at the mammoth, and his heart 
  leaped. It was quite close now, and it was about to 
  charge. He could see the patch of white hair on its left 
  jowl quite plainly. He voiced the call with which the 
  great beast had been so familiar. Simultaneously the 
  great trunk went up, a thunderous trumpeting shook the 
  224 
  
   
  earth, and Old White charged. 
  Von Horst swept La-ja into his arms and stood there in 
  the path of the gigantic monster. Could it be that Old 
  White did not know him, or had he really gone mad and 
  bent on killing, no matter whom, just for the sake of Mil-
  ing? 
  The girl clung to the man. He felt her arms about his 
  neck, her firm young breasts pressed against his body, 
  and he was resigned. If it were death, he could not have 
  chosen a happier end—in the arms of the woman he 
  loved. 
  With a squeal of rage, Old White brushed past them 
  so close that he almost bowled them over and bore down 
  upon the bison-men. These scattered, but they did not 
  run. Then it was that von Horst saw how they fought the 
  mighty tandor. 
  Leaping aside, they sprang in again, goring at the 
  great beast's side and belly as he raced past. They were 
  thrown down by the impact, but they were on their 
  feet again instantly. As a group lured Old White in one 
  direction, fifty Ganaks rushed in upon his sides and rear 
  seeking to reach and tear him with their stout horns. 
  Perhaps they had overcome other mammoths in this 
  way, for it was evident that they were but following an 
  accustomed routine; but Old White was not as other 
  mammoths. When he had felt a few horns tear his 
  tough sides he ceased charging. He did not let any of 
  them get behind him again. He moved slowly toward 
  them, reminding von Horst of a huge cat stalking a bird. 
  The bison-men waited for the charge, ready to leap aside 
  and then in to gore him; but he did not charge. He 
  came close and then made a short, quick rush, seized a 
  bison-man, raised him high above his head and hurled 
  him with terrific force among his fellows, downing a 
  dozen of them. Before they could collect themselves, 
  225 
  
   
  Old White was among them, trampling and tossing, un-
  til those who managed to elude him were glad to run 
  for their village as fast as they could go. 
  The mammoth pursued them for a short distance 
  picking up a few stragglers and hurling them far ahead 
  among the frightened, bellowing herd; then he turned 
  about and came at his slow, swinging pace toward von 
  Horst and the girl. 
  "Now he will kill us!" she cried. "Why didn't we run 
  away while we had the chance?" 
  XXI 
  DESERTED 
  "HE WON'T hurt us," von Horst assured her. 
  "How do you know he won't?" she demanded. "You 
  saw what he did to the Ganaks." 
  "We are friends, Old White and I." 
  "This is no time to laugh with words," she said. "It is 
  very brave but it isn't good sense." 
  The mammoth was nearing them. La-ja involuntarily 
  pressed close to von Horst. He threw a protective arm 
  about her and held her still closer. He was aware that 
  her attitude seemingly belied her repeated assurances of 
  dislike and wondered if fear could so quickly overcome 
  her pride. That did not seem at all like La-ja. He was 
  puzzled, but he was not too insistent upon questioning 
  any circumstance that brought her into his arms. The 
  fact was enough. All that he could do was acknowledge 
  another debt of gratitude to Old White. 
  The mammoth stopped in front of them. He seemed 
  to be questioning the presence of the girl. Von Horst's 
  only fear was that the great, savage beast might not 
  226 
  
   
  accept her. He had known but one human friend. All 
  others had been enemies to be killed. The man spoke to 
  him and stroked the trunk that was reaching tentatively 
  toward the girl. Then he gave the command to lift them 
  to his back. There was a moment's hesitation as the 
  sensitive tip moved slowly over La-ja. The girl did not 
  shrink. For that von Horst was thankful. How very 
  brave she was! The trunk encircled them, and again 
  the girl's arms went around the man's neck. Old White 
  tightened his grip. Von Horst repeated the command to 
  lift them, and they were swung from the ground and 
  deposited just behind the great head. At the man's sig-
  nal, the mammoth moved off in the direction of Lo-har. 
  La-ja breathed a little sigh that was half gasp. "I do 
  not understand," she said. "How can you make a wild 
  tandor do what you tell him to do?" 
  Von Horst told her then of his first encounter with 
  Old White and of all that had occurred since—his cap-
  tivity among the mammoth-men, of the little canyon, 
  and of his eventual escape. 
  "I saw you attack Frug," she said; "and then Skruf 
  dragged me across the river, and I never knew whether 
  you were killed by Frug or by the mammoth-men, or if 
  they captured you. 
  "Skruf hid with me in a cave beside the river. He put 
  a gag in my mouth so that I couldn't cry out and attract 
  the attention of the mammoth-men. We heard them 
  hunting us. I would rather have been captured by them 
  than taken back to Basti, and Skruf knew it. I thought 
  you might be a prisoner among them, too." 
  She caught herself quickly, as though she had spoken 
  without thought. "Of course I didn't care. It was only 
  that the country of the mammoth-men is much nearer 
  Lo-har than Basti is. I did not want to be taken all the 
  way back to Basti. 
  227 
  
   
  "We hid for a long time; then we started out again, 
  but at the first sleep I escaped. The thongs he tied me 
  with were so loose that I slipped my hands from them. 
  "I ran away toward Lo-har. I went a long way and 
  thought that I was safe. I slept many times; so I know 
  I must have come far. I was very lucky. I met only a few 
  of the flesh-eaters and these always when there was a 
  place to hide—a tree or a cave with a very small entrance. 
  I saw no man until once I looked behind me from the top 
  of a low hill and saw Skruf following me. He was a long 
  way off, but I knew him at once. He saw me. It was very 
  plain that he saw me, for he stopped suddenly and stood 
  still for a moment; then he started after me at a trot. I 
  turned and ran. I tried every way that I knew to throw 
  him off my track, and after a long time I thought that I 
  had succeeded. But I had not. He came upon me while 
  I was sleeping, and started to drag me back to Basti. It 
  was then that the bison-men discovered us. You know 
  the rest." 
  "You have had a hard time of it, La-ja," said von Horst. 
  "I can't understand how you have come through alive." 
  "I think I have had a very easy time of it," she replied. 
  "Very few girls who are stolen from the tribe ever es-
  cape their captors. Many of them are killed; the others 
  have to mate with men they do not like. That I would 
  not do. I would kill myself first. I think I am a very 
  lucky girl." 
  "But think of all the dangers and hardships you have 
  had to face," he insisted. 
  "Oh, yes," she admitted, "it is not easy to be alone 
  always with enemies. It is not pleasant, but I have not 
  had so many dangers. The Gorbuses were the worst. I 
  did not like them." 
  Von Horst was amazed. It seemed incredible that a 
  girl could pass through what she had without being a 
  228 
  
   
  nervous wreck, yet La-ja appeared to take it all as a 
  matter of course. It was difficult for him not to compare 
  her with girls of his own world and forget how different 
  her environment had been. Where they walked with as-
  surance, she might be as terrified as would they in 
  Pellucidar—though it was not easy to visualize La-ja as 
  terrified under any circumstances. 
  It often pleased him to dream of taking her back to 
  the outer world with him. There were so many things, 
  commonplace to him, that would astonish her—her first 
  ride on a train, in an automobile, in an airplane; the sight 
  of the great buildings, the giant liners, huge cities. He 
  tried to imagine what the reaction would be of one who 
  had never seen any of these things, nor dreamed of their 
  existence, nor of the civilization that had produced them. 
  She would find many things foolish and impractical— 
  the wearing of high-heeled shoes that pinched her feet; 
  she would think it foolish to wear furs when it was not 
  cold, to dress warmly in the daytime and go half naked 
  at night. All clothes would hamper her; she would not 
  like them. But with the beauty of her face and figure, her 
  pride, and her femininity she would soon learn to like 
  them, of that he was quite certain. 
  Poor little La-ja! What a crime it would be to let 
  civilization spoil her. However, that was nothing for him 
  to worry about. She would not have him even in Pel-
  lucidar, nor was there much likelihood that he would 
  ever himself see the outer world again, much less take 
  her or anyone else back with him. 
  With reveries such as these and desultory conversa-
  tion with La-ja he whiled the time while Old White bore 
  them in the direction of Lo-har. Even the larger beasts 
  of prey they encountered on the way turned aside from 
  the path of the great bull mammoth, so that their 
  journey was one of ease, free from the constant menace 
  229 
  
   
  of these fierce flesh-eaters which would have constantly 
  harassed them had they been on foot. 
  They had slept three times and eaten not a few when 
  La-ja announced that they were approaching Lo-har. 
  They had halted to rest and sleep—it would be the last 
  sleep before they reached Lo-har, and La-ja seemed pre-
  occupied and dejected. During this last journey together 
  she had been friendly and companionable, so that von 
  Horst's hopes had risen; though he had had to admit to 
  himself that she still gave him no reason to believe that 
  side which they were camped and upon which great 
  very happy—happier than he had been since he had en-
  tered this strange world; perhaps happier than he had 
  ever been, for he had never been in love before. 
  They had made camp and he had gone out on the 
  plain and brought down a small antelope with an arrow 
  from his bow. Now they were grilling cuts over a small 
  fire. Old White had moved ponderously to a clump of 
  young trees which he was rapidly denuding of foliage. 
  The noon-day sun beat down upon the open plain be-
  side which they were camped and upon which great 
  herds grazed peacefully, for the moment undisturbed 
  by any prowling carnivore. 
  Von Horst felt the peace and contentment that hung 
  over the scene like a white cloud above a summer sea, 
  and his mood was in harmony with his environment. 
  His eyes rested upon La-ja, devouring her; and almost 
  upon his lips was an avowal of the passion that filled 
  his whole being. 
  She chanced to turn and catch his eyes upon her; for 
  a moment they held; then she looked off across the 
  plain. She pointed. 
  "When we set out again," she said, "I go in that direc-
  tion—alone." 
  "What do you mean?" he demanded. "That is not the 
  230 
  
   
  direction of Lo-har—it is straight ahead, in the direction 
  we have been travelling." 
  "A great lake lies to our left," she explained. "We have 
  had to make a detour to pass around it. You cannot see it 
  from here because it lies in a deep basin rimmed by 
  cliffs." 
  "You are not going alone," he said. "I am going with 
  you." 
  "Haven't I made it clear to you many times that I do 
  not want you to come with me? How many times must I 
  tell you that I do not like you? Go away and leave me. 
  Let me go back to my own people in peace." 
  Von Horst flushed. Bitter words were in his throat, but 
  he choked them. All he said was, "I am going with you, 
  because I—because—well, because you can't go on alone." 
  She rose. "I do not need you, and I do not want you," 
  she said; then she went and lay down in the shade of a 
  tree to sleep. 
  Von Horst sat brooding disconsolately. Old White, his 
  meal finished, drank from the stream beside the camp 
  and came and stood beneath a nearby tree, dozing. Von 
  Horst knew that he would remain there and constitute 
  a better guard than any man; so he stretched himself 
  upon the ground and was soon asleep. 
  When he awoke, Old White was still standing in the 
  shade, his great shaggy body rocking gently to and fro; 
  the herds still grazed over the broad plain; the eternal 
  noon-day sun still shone down serenely upon the peace-
  ful scene. He might have slept for no more than a min-
  ute; or, he realized, he might have been sleeping for a 
  week of outer-earthly time. He looked for La-ja. She was 
  not where he had last seen her. A sudden presentiment 
  of evil brought him to his feet. He looked quickly in all 
  directions. The girl was nowhere in sight. He called her 
  name aloud again and again, but there was no response. 
  231 
  
   
  Then he went quickly to where she had been sleeping 
  and searched the ground in the vicinity of the camp. 
  There was no sign that either man or beast had been 
  there other than themselves; but this was not entirely 
  strange, as the grass, close cropped by the grazing herds, 
  would have registered no sign of an ordinary passing. 
  Presently he dismissed the possibility that La-ja had 
  been taken forcibly by either beast or man. Had such 
  an attempt been made she would have called to him for 
  help, and surely Old White would have protected the 
  camp from any intruder. There was but one explanation 
  —La-ja had gone on alone, eluding him. She had told him 
  that she did not want him to come with her. His in-
  sistence that he would come anyway had left her no 
  alternative other than the thing she had done—she had 
  simply run away from him. 
  His pride was hurt, but that hurt was as nothing to the 
  ache in his heart. The bottom had dropped out of his 
  world. There seemed nothing in life to look forward to. 
  What was he to do? Where might he go? He had no idea 
  where Sari lay, and only in Sari might he hope to find a 
  friend in all this vast, savage world. But only for a 
  moment was he undecided; then he called to Old White, 
  and at his command the beast swung him to its back. As 
  the mammoth moved off, von Horst guided it in the new 
  direction La-ja had pointed out before they had slept. 
  His mind was made up. He was going to Lo-har. While 
  life remained in him he would not give up hope of 
  winning the girl he loved. 
  He urged Old White on in the hope of overtaking the 
  girl. Not knowing how long he had slept he had no 
  idea how far ahead of him she might be. She had told 
  him that Lo-har lay but a single march from their last 
  camp site, yet on and on they went until he was half 
  dead with fatigue; and at last Old White refused to go 
  232 
  
   
  farther without rest, yet there was neither sign of La-ja 
  nor of any village nor even of the great lake that she 
  had told him they must skirt. 
  He wondered if he were searching in the right direc-
  tion, for it was easily possible that the village might lie 
  either to the right or left of his line of march; but it 
  seemed strange that he should have passed close to any 
  village without seeing some sign of man. Hunting parties 
  were always abroad, and the sight of a stranger would 
  have brought them to investigate and probably to have 
  killed. He banked on his acquaintance with La-ja, how-
  ever, to get him a peaceable hearing from her father, 
  Brun, the chief, when it was his intention to ask to be 
  taken into the tribe. 
  At last he was forced to halt that Old White might 
  feed and rest; but it was not until they finally did so 
  beside a stream that he realized how much he, too, was 
  in need of both food and sleep. He had brought with 
  him, wrapped in its own hide, some of the antelope he 
  had killed at his last camp; and upon this and some fruit 
  he broke his long fast; then he slept. 
  He must have slept for a long time, for he was very 
  tired; but with his safety assured by the watchful 
  presence of Old White he slept soundly. When he 
  awoke, something was touching his breast. He did not 
  immediately open his eyes, for he recognized the feel of 
  the moist tip of Old White's trunk upon his naked flesh. 
  He just lay there luxuriating in the sensuous delight of 
  the brief, lazy moments that lie between awakening and 
  full consciousness. But as consciousness returned, bring-
  ing command of all the senses, he gradually became 
  aware of an odor that was not the odor of Old White. 
  It was a strong, acrid scent; and slowly he raised his lids. 
  A sudden numbness seized him as he recognized the 
  creature that stood over him sniffing at his body with its 
  233 
  
   
  moist muzzle moving over his bare flesh. It was that 
  most gigantic and feared of all Pellucidarian beasts of 
  prey, the ryth, a colossal cave bear long extinct upon the 
  outer crust. 
  He closed his eyes again and feigned death, for he had 
  heard that a bear will not maul a dead body unless it is 
  its own kill. He had little belief in the truth of the state-
  ment, but it was the proverbial straw and the only one. 
  All that he could do was lie still and hope for the best. 
  The nose left his body. There was no sound but the 
  breathing of the beast. What was it doing? The suspense 
  was maddening, and at last he could endure it no longer. 
  The bear was standing over him with its head turned to 
  one side, looking away, sniffing, listening. Von Horst lay 
  in a gentle depression beneath a wide-spreading tree. He 
  could see but a short distance in the direction the bear 
  was looking. Nor could the bear see farther than the 
  summit of the gentle slope that ran down to the bank of 
  the stream beside which von Horst lay, but it must have 
  scented or heard something approaching. 
  Von Horst thought that it must be Old White return-
  ing. He must have wandered much farther from camp 
  than usual. There would be a battle royal when he re-
  turned and saw the ryth menacing his friend. The man 
  knew that Old White was afraid of nothing, and he knew 
  the reputation of the mighty cave bear for fearlessness 
  and bellicosity. He had been told that one of these great 
  beasts could kill a mammoth with a single blow of its 
  mighty paw; but Old White was not just a mammoth; 
  he was the mammoth. The mammoth-men had said there 
  was never one like him for size and ferocity and cunning. 
  And then a man topped the rise and walked in full view 
  of the bear and von Horst. He was quartering down the 
  slope so that he was not facing them directly; and he 
  234 
  
   
  had not yet seen them, for they were in the dense shade 
  of the tree. 
  He was half way down the slope, and von Horst thought 
  the bear was going to let him pass, when he saw them. 
  Simultaneously von Horst recognized him. It was Daj, 
  the young warrior from Lo-har whom he had met in the 
  little canyon in Ja-ru, the land of the mammoth-men. 
  When Daj saw the bear he looked for the nearest 
  tree. It was man's only defense against such a creature. 
  As he started to run, the bear voiced a deafening roar 
  and started for him. Von Horst sprang to his feet. He 
  was saved, for he could clamber into the tree above now 
  before the bear could turn and reach him. But what of 
  Daj? The tree nearest him was evidently a little too far 
  away to be reached before the bear overtook him, yet 
  Daj was straining very muscle to reach it. 
  As von Horst had risen he had gathered up his bow 
  and arrows that had lain on the ground beside him. In 
  them he saw a possibility of saving Daj. Fitting an arrow 
  to his bow he took aim and let drive. The missile sank 
  deep in the bear's rump eliciting a roar of rage and pain 
  and bringing it around with an alacrity and agility that 
  belied its great bulk as it sought the temerarious creature 
  that dared assault it; and upon the instant, without a 
  pause, it charged von Horst. 
  He had saved Daj; but perhaps he had underestimated 
  the safety of his own position, for he had not reckoned 
  with the surprising agility and speed of the enormous 
  ryth. 
  The instant that he had loosed the first arrow he had 
  fitted another to his bow which he bent now until the 
  point of the arrow rested upon his thumb, and when he 
  loosed it he drooped his weapon and sprang for a tree 
  branch directly above him. 
  He did not know if he had scored a hit or not. The 
  235 
  
   
  bear did not pause, but came thundering down upon 
  him. He felt the wind of its raking talons against his 
  legs as he drew them to the safety of the tree. A deep 
  sigh of relief registered acknowledgement of his escape 
  from a seemingly hopeless situation. 
  When he looked down he saw the bear standing be-
  neath him pawing at the feathered shaft that protruded 
  from the left side of its chest. It was roaring, but not so 
  strongly now; and blood was flowing from its mouth. 
  Von Horst saw that his last shot had delivered a serious 
  wound, though perhaps not fatal. Those mighty, pre-
  historic creatures were most tenacious of life. 
  The bear pawed viciously at the shaft and then 
  sprawled forward, struggled spasmodically, and lay still. 
  Von Horst guessed that it had driven or twisted the 
  arrow into its own heart, but he did not venture down at 
  once. He looked for Daj but could not see him, as much 
  foliage intervened; then he called his name aloud. 
  "Who are you?" came the answer. 
  "The mammoth-men called me Von; we met in the 
  little canyon. Now do you recall me?" 
  "Yes. Because of you I escaped death that day. I could 
  not very well forget you. What has happened to the 
  bear? It is lying down. It looks as though it were dead, 
  but what could have killed it?" 
  "Wait until I make sure that it's dead," cautioned von 
  Horst. "If it is, we'll come down." 
  With his stone knife he hacked a branch from the tree 
  and threw it down upon the bear. As the beast gave no 
  sign that it had felt it, von Horst was satisfied that it 
  was dead, and slipped down to the ground. 
  As he was retrieving his weapons Daj approached him, 
  a friendly smile upon his face. "Now you have saved my 
  life again," he said. "I do not know why, because we are 
  not of the same tribe." 
  236 
  
   
  "We are of the same race," said von Horst; "we are 
  both gilaks." 
  The Pellucidarian shrugged. "If everyone felt that way 
  there would be too many gilaks in Pellucidar and all the 
  game would soon be killed off." 
  Von Horst smiled as he thought of the vast area of the 
  inner world with its handful of inhabitants and of the 
  teeming city slums of the outer crust. 
  "For the good of the gilaks of Pellucidar," he said, 
  "may you never be persuaded to the brotherhood of man." 
  "I do not know what you are talking about," admitted 
  Daj; "but what I would like to know is what made the 
  ryth die." 
  Von Horst showed him the bloody arrows that he had 
  withdrawn from the carcass. "The one in his chest killed 
  him," he said. "It punctured his heart." 
  "Those little slivers of wood killed a ryth!" exclaimed 
  Daj. 
  "There was a lot of luck mixed in with them," ad-
  mitted von Horst; "but if you get one of them into the 
  heart of anything, it will kill." 
  "Yes, but how did you get it in? You couldn't go close 
  enough to a ryth to stick it in without being killed, and 
  they're too light to throw in as you might a spear." 
  Von Horst showed Daj his bow and explained its use, 
  and the Pellucidarian was much interested. After he had 
  examined it for a moment he handed it back. 
  "We'd better move away from here," he said. "That 
  ryth was down here on the plain hunting. His mate may 
  be around somewhere. If he doesn't show up she'll fol-
  low his scent until she finds him. This will not be a good 
  place to be." 
  "Where are you going?" asked von Horst. 
  "To Lo-har," replied Daj. "I have been many sleeps on 
  237 
  
   
  the way from Ja-ru, but now I shall be there in three or 
  four more sleeps." 
  "Three or four?" demanded von Horst. "I thought I 
  was very close to Lo-har." 
  "No," said Daj, "but where are you going?" 
  "To Lo-har," replied von Horst. 
  "Why?" 
  "I have no other place to go. I am from another world 
  to which I cannot possibly return. I know one person in 
  Sari who would be my friend, but I cannot find my way 
  to Sari. In Lo-har I know two people who should not 
  dislike me. I am going there to ask Bran to make me a 
  member of the tribe." 
  "Whom do you know in Lo-har?" asked Daj. 
  "You and La-ja," replied von Horst. 
  Daj scratched his head. "Brun will probably have you 
  killed," he said. "If he doesn't, Gaz will kill you; but if 
  you want to go to Lo-har, I will take you. You might as 
  well die there as anywhere." 
  XXII 
  GAZ 
  THREE LONG MABCHES in the direction from which he had 
  just come brought von Horst and Daj to the camp site 
  at which La-ja had deserted the former and convinced 
  him that the girl had deliberately set him upon the 
  wrong trail. The realization of this fact, coupled with the 
  desertion of Old White, disheartened him to such an ex-
  tent that he seriously considered abandoning his evi-
  dently futile pursuit of La-ja; but when Daj was ready to 
  set out after they had slept, von Horst accompanied 
  238 
  
   
  him; though it only added to his depression when he 
  found that the route toward Lo-har was that which he 
  and La-ja had been following up until the moment that 
  she had sent him off in the wrong direction. 
  One long march brought them to a sandstone canyon 
  and the cliff-dwellings of Lo-har, where Daj was received 
  with more show of enthusiasm and affection than von 
  Horst had previously seen exhibited by the humans of 
  Pellucidar. But of von Horst they were wary and suspi-
  cious, appraising him with hostile eyes while Daj ex-
  plained innumerable times that the stranger was a friend 
  who had liberated him from captivity and twice saved 
  his life. 
  "What does he want in Lo-har?" demanded the sentry 
  who had first halted them at a safe distance from the 
  village, and the question was constantly repeated by 
  others as they advanced. 
  In reply Daj explained that von Horst was a great 
  warrior from another world who wished to come and live 
  in Lo-har, joining the tribe; and all the while, paying 
  no attention to the muttering and grumbling about him, 
  von Horst searched for La-ja with eager eyes. 
  "Where is Brun?" demanded Daj. "He will decide 
  whether or not the stranger remains." 
  "Brun is not here," replied a warrior. 
  "Where is he?" 
  "Perhaps he is dead. Many sleeps have passed since 
  he went away to search for La-ja, his daughter." 
  "Then who is acting chief now?" asked Daj. 
  "Gaz," replied the other. 
  Daj appeared puzzled. "He was chosen by the war-
  riors?" he asked. 
  The other shook his head. "No; he took the power, 
  threatening to kill any who interfered. Gaz is a mighty 
  man. No one has as yet disputed his right, though many 
  239 
  
   
  would do so if they were not afraid, for we are not 
  happy under Gaz." 
  "Where is he?" Daj's eyes were wandering about the 
  village. 
  "He was gone after La-ja." 
  Von Horst was instantly alert and attentive. "Where 
  has she gone?" he asked. 
  Both the warrior and Daj looked at him questioning, 
  for Daj knew nothing of von Horst's love for La-ja. 
  "Why do you want to know, stranger?" demanded the 
  warrior suspiciously. 
  "If I know where the woman has gone, I shall be able 
  to find the man." 
  Daj and the warrior nodded. "That is right," said the 
  former, and then he asked a question that von Horst 
  had wished to ask but had not dared. "Why has Gaz 
  gone after La-ja? She has been missing for many sleeps, 
  and her father has already gone after her. If Gaz were 
  going after her, why didn't he go before this?" 
  "You do not understand," said the warrior. "La-ja re-
  turned a few sleeps ago, and Gaz claimed her as his 
  mate; but she would have nothing to do with him. When 
  he would have taken her to his cave by force, she eluded 
  him and ran away." 
  "And Gaz?" asked von Horst. 
  "He followed her. Doubtless before this he has caught 
  her and she is his mate. It is well for a girl, especially a 
  chiefs daughter, to show spirit. Gaz will like her better 
  for it. Those who are too easy to get are not liked for so 
  long a time as the others. Perhaps La-ja only ran away 
  out of sight of the village and then waited for Gaz. Many 
  a girl has done this." 
  "Which way did she go?" demanded von Horst again. 
  His voice was hoarse and dead in his throat. 
  "If you know what is well for you you will not interfere 
  240 
  
   
  with Gaz now but wait until he returns. He will be bad 
  enough then. If I were you, stranger, I'd get as far away 
  from Lo-har as I could before Gaz comes back." 
  "Which way did he go?" repeated von Horst. 
  The warrior shook his head. "That way," he said, 
  pointing up the canyon. "Beyond the divide at the head 
  of the canyon is a beautiful valley. It is such a place as a 
  man might take his woman—or a woman lure her man." 
  Von Horst shuddered; then without a word he set off 
  toward the head of the canyon and the beautiful valley 
  to which a woman might lure her man. 
  The warrior and Daj stood looking after him. The 
  latter shook his head. "It is too bad," he said; "he is a 
  great warrior and a good friend." 
  The warrior shrugged. "What difference does it make?" 
  he asked. "Gaz will only kill him a little sooner; that is 
  all." 
  As von Horst clambered the steep ascent at the head of 
  the canyon his mind was a turmoil of hopes and fears 
  and passion—of love and hate. The last vestige of cen-
  turies of civilization had fallen away, leaving him a stark 
  cave man of the stone age. As some primitive ancestor of 
  the outer crust may have done eons before, he sought his 
  rival with murder in his heart. As for the woman he de-
  sired, he would take her now whether she wished it or 
  not. 
  Beyond the summit he looked down into the most 
  beautiful valley he had ever seen, but he gave it scarcely 
  a glance. What his eyes sought was something far more 
  beautiful. He sought for some sign of the direction in 
  which the two had gone as he dropped down toward 
  the floor of the valley, and at last he found it in a well 
  marked game trail that wound beside a little stream that 
  meandered down toward a larger river that he could 
  faintly distinguish in the haze of the distance. Here was 
  241 
  
   
  an occasional print of a tiny sandaled foot and often 
  overlapping them those of a large foot that could have 
  belonged only to a huge man. 
  Von Horst started along the trail at a trot. He wanted 
  to call the girl's name aloud; but he knew that she would 
  not reply even though she heard him, for had she not 
  made it plain that a love such as his could arouse no 
  corresponding emotion. He wondered vaguely what had 
  become of his pride, that he could pursue a woman who 
  hated him and have it in his heart to take her by force 
  against her will. He thought that he should be ashamed 
  of himself, but he was not. For a while he was puzzled; 
  and then he realized that he had changed—that he was 
  not the same man who had entered the inner world God 
  only knew how long ago. Environment had meta-
  morphosed him—savage Pellucidar had claimed him as 
  her own. 
  The very thought of Gaz raised him to a fury. He 
  realized that he had been hating the man for longer 
  than he knew. He had no fear of him, as he had no fear 
  of death. Perhaps it was the latter that kept him from 
  fearing Gaz, for from all that he had heard of the man 
  Gaz spelled death. 
  At a steady trot he pushed on. How far ahead they 
  were he had no way of knowing. How much of truth or 
  falsity there was in the insinuations of the warrior who 
  had set him on the trail he could not even guess—the very 
  thought of them made him frantic, the thought that he 
  might be too late; but what was even worse was the 
  haunting fear that La-ja had come willing and waited. 
  She had told him that it was her duty to mate with a 
  mighty warrior, and why not Gaz? Von Horst groaned 
  aloud and quickened his pace. If ever a man suffered the 
  tortures of the damned, it was he. 
  He came upon a place where the trail branched, a 
  242 
  
   
  smaller, less worn trail running off at right angles toward 
  the stream that lay to his right. After a moment's careful 
  inspection he determined that the two he sought had 
  taken the smaller trail, and in the mud of both river banks 
  at the crossing he again found the spoor, this time well 
  defined. From there the trail ran directly into the mouth 
  of a small side canyon, and afterward he had only to 
  follow the floor of the canyon upward. Presently he 
  heard a commotion ahead and the hoarse voice of a man 
  shouting. He could not distinguish the words. The voice 
  came from beyond a bend in the canyon which hid the 
  speaker from his sight. 
  From now on he should have gone cautiously, but he 
  did not. Instead he pushed on even faster, taking no 
  precautions; and thus he came suddenly upon Gaz and 
  La-ja. The latter was clinging precariously to a tiny 
  ledge upon the face of a lofty escarpment. Her feet 
  rested upon this narrow support, her body was flattened 
  against the face of the cliff, her arms were outspread, 
  her palms pressed tightly against the hard stone. Gaz, 
  unable to scale the cliff, stood on the ground below 
  shouting orders for La-ja to descend to him. At sight 
  of the two and their positions that so eloquently told a 
  story, von Horst breathed a sigh of relief—he had not 
  been too late! 
  Suddenly Gaz picked up a rock and hurled it at La-ja. 
  "Come down!" he roared, "or I'll knock you down." The 
  rock struck the face of the cliff close beside La-ja's head. 
  Gaz stooped to take up another. 
  Von Horst shouted at him, and the man wheeled in 
  surprise. The man from the outer crust reached over his 
  shoulder for an arrow to fit to his bow. He had no 
  compunctions whatsoever about shooting down a man 
  armed only with a crude spear and a stone knife. To his 
  astonishment, he found that his quiver was empty. 
  243 
  
   
  Where could his arrows have gone? He was sure he had 
  had them when he entered the village. Then he recalled 
  how the natives had pulled and hauled him around, 
  milling and pressing against him. It must have been then 
  that someone had taken his arrows. 
  Gaz was coming toward him belligerently. "Who are 
  you?" he demanded. "What do you want here?" 
  "I have come for you, Gaz," replied von Horst. "I have 
  come to kill you and take the girl for myself." 
  Gaz roared and came on. He thought it a huge joke 
  that any warrior should challenge his supremacy. La-ja 
  turned her head far enough so that she could look down. 
  What were her feelings when she recognized von Horst, 
  as she must have done immediately? Who may know? As 
  a matter of fact she gave no indication that she even saw 
  him; but once, a moment later, when he glanced away 
  from Gaz momentarily, von Horst saw that the girl was 
  descending. What her intentions he could not even guess. 
  She might be going to help the man of her choice in the 
  impending battle, or she might be going to take advan-
  tage of the preoccupation of the two men to run away 
  again. 
  "Who are you?" demanded Gaz. "I never saw you be-
  fore." 
  "I am von Horst, and La-ja is my woman," growled 
  the other. 
  "Do you know who I am?" 
  "You're the man I've crossed a world to kill," replied 
  von Horst. "You're Gaz." 
  "Go away!" shouted La-ja. "Go away before Gaz kills 
  you. I won't have you—not if you killed a thousand Gazes 
  would I have you. Run! Run while you can." 
  Von Horst looked at Gaz. He was a monster-man, an 
  enormous, bearded fellow who might have weighed well 
  over three hundred pounds; and he was as gross and re- 
  244 
  
   
  pulsive and brutal in appearance as he was large. His 
  snaggle teeth were bared in a snarl as he charged von 
  Horst. The latter had no fear. He had met warriors of the 
  stone age before. They had no skill; and the hairy, mas-
  sive bodies of some of them suggested strength far 
  greater than they possessed. Von Horst had discovered 
  that he was stronger than any he had met. They had had 
  only an advantage in weight, nor was that always an 
  advantage, as it lessened their agility. 
  Von Horst's patience with La-ja was at an end. He 
  wanted to be done with Gaz as quickly as possible so 
  that he could take the girl in hand. He even contemplated 
  giving her a sound beating. He thought that she deserved 
  it. He was thinking in terms of the stone age. 
  As Gaz charged down upon him, von Horst struck 
  him a heavy blow in the face, as he stepped aside out 
  of the path of the huge body. Gaz staggered and let out 
  a bellow of rage, and as he turned to rush von Horst 
  again he drew his stone knife from his G string. He, too, 
  wished to end the duel at once; for he was crazed with 
  chagrin that this smaller man had defied him and had 
  done the first damage in the fight—all in the presence 
  of the woman he had chosen to be his mate. Much more 
  of the same and he would be the laughing stock of the 
  village. 
  Von Horst saw the weapon in Gaz's hand and drew his 
  own. This time he waited, and Gaz came in more slowly. 
  When he was quite near von Horst, he leaped in, swing-
  ing a terrific knife blow at his antagonist's chest. Von 
  Horst parried with his left arm, plunged his blade into 
  Gaz's side, and leaped away; but as he did so his foot 
  struck a stone protruding above the ground, and he went 
  down. Instantly Gaz was on top of him, hurling his great 
  carcass full upon the body of his fallen antagonist. One 
  great paw reached for von Horst's throat, the other 
  245 
  
   
  drove the stone blade down toward his heart. 
  The European caught the other's wrist, stopping the 
  descending knife; but with his other hand Gaz was 
  choking the life from him, and at the same time he was 
  trying to wrench his knife hand free and plunge the 
  weapon into von Horst's heart. As von Horst had fallen 
  he had dropped his own knife. Now, while he held Gaz's 
  weapon from him he groped for his own on the ground 
  about him. Occasionally he relinquished his search to 
  strike Gaz a heavy blow in the face, which always caused 
  him to loosen his hold upon the other's throat, giving 
  von Horst an opportunity to gulp in a mouthful of fresh 
  air; but the man from the outer world realized that he 
  was weakening rapidly and that unless he found his 
  knife the end would come quickly. 
  He had struck Gaz again heavily, and when he reached 
  down again to grope for his weapon his hand contacted 
  it immediately, as though someone had placed it in his 
  grasp. He did not pause then to seek an explanation; in 
  fact the only thing that mattered was that he possessed 
  the knife. 
  He saw Gaz glance back and heard him curse; then 
  he drove his blade deep into the left side of the cave-
  man. Gaz screamed and, releasing his hold on von 
  Horst's throat, sought to seize his knife arm; but the 
  other eluded him, and again and again the stone knife 
  was driven into his bleeding side. 
  Then Gaz tried to get up and away from von Horst, 
  but the latter seized his beard and held him. Relentlessly 
  he struck again and again. Gaz's roars and screams 
  diminished. His body commenced to slump; then, with a 
  final shudder, it collapsed upon the victor. 
  Von Horst pushed it aside and rose. Panting, blood-
  covered, he looked about for the woman—his woman 
  now. He saw her standing there nearby wide-eyed, in- 
  246 
  
   
  credulous. She came slowly toward him. "You have 
  killed Gaz!" she said in an awed whisper. 
  "And what of it?" he demanded. 
  "I didn't think you could do it. I thought that he 
  would kill you." 
  "I'm sorry to disappoint you," he snapped. "I wonder 
  if you realize what it means." 
  "I am not disappointed," she said. "And what does it 
  mean?" 
  "It means that I am going to take you. You are mine. 
  Do you understand? You are mine!" 
  A slow smile broke like sunlight through the clouds of 
  doubt. 
  "I have been yours almost from the first," she said, 
  "but you were too stupid to realize it." 
  "What?" he ejaculated. "What do you mean? You 
  have done nothing but repulse me and try to drive me 
  away from you. When I slept, you ran off and left me 
  after directing me on the wrong trail." 
  "Yes," she answered, "I did all those things. I did 
  them because I loved you. I knew that if I told you I re-
  turned your love you would follow me to Lo-har, and I 
  thought that if you came here you would be killed. How 
  could I guess that you could kill Gaz, whom no man has 
  ever before been able to kill?" 
  "La-ja!" he whispered, and took her in his arms. 
  Together they returned to the village of Lo-har. The 
  warriors and the women clustered about them. "Where 
  is Gaz?". they asked. 
  "Gaz is dead," said La-ja. 
  "Then we have no chief." 
  "Here is your chief," replied the girl, laying a hand 
  upon von Horst's shoulder. 
  Some of the warriors laughed, others grumbled. "He 
  is a stranger. What has he done that he should be chief?" 
  247 
  
   
  "When Brun went away, you let Gaz be chief be-
  cause you were afraid of him. You hated him; and he was 
  a poor chief, but none of you was brave enough to try to 
  kill him. Von killed Gaz in a fair fight with knives, and 
  he has taken the daughter of your chief as mate. Until 
  Brun returns what warrior among you is better qualified 
  to be chief than Von? If any thinks differently let him 
  step forward and fight Von with his bare hands." 
  And so Lieutenant Frederich Wilhelm Eric von Men-
  deldorf und von Horst became chief of the cliff-dwellers 
  of Lo-har. He was a wise chief, for he combined with the 
  psychology of the cave man, that he had acquired, all 
  the valuable knowledge of another environment. He be-
  came almost a god to them, so that they no longer re-
  gretted the loss of Brun. 
  And then, after a while, came rumors of a strange 
  people that were reported to have come up out of the 
  south. They had weapons against which neither man nor 
  beast could stand—weapons that made a great noise 
  and vomited smoke and killed at a distance. 
  When von Horst heard these rumors he thrilled with 
  excitement. Such men could only be members of the 
  company that had come from the outer crust in the giant 
  dirigible O-220—his friends. Doubtless they were search-
  ing for him. He called his warriors to him. "I am going 
  out to meet these strangers of whom we have heard 
  rumors. I think they are my friends. But if they are not 
  my friends, they will be able to kill many of us with the 
  weapons they have before we can get near enough to 
  kill them. How many of you wish to go with me?" 
  They all volunteered, but he took only about fifty 
  warriors. La-ja accompanied them, and when they set 
  out they had only the vaguest of rumors to guide them. 
  But as they went south and talked with men of other 
  tribes, whom they captured along the way, the reports 
  248 
  
   
  became more definite; and then at last von Horst's 
  scouts came back from the front and reported that they 
  had seen a body of men camped by a river a short dis-
  tance away. 
  Led by von Horst, the cave-men of Lo-har crept close 
  to the camp of the strangers. Here von Horst saw armed 
  men who bore rifles and bandoleers of cartridges. The 
  arrangement and discipline of the camp, the sentries, the 
  military air assured him that these people had had con-
  tact with civilization. But he was still too far away to 
  recognize faces if there were any there that he knew. 
  But of one thing he was confident—this was no party 
  from the O-220. 
  He whispered to his warriors for a moment; then he 
  rose alone and walked slowly down toward the camp. 
  He had taken but a few steps in the open before a sentry 
  discovered him and gave the alarm. Von Horst saw men 
  rise all about the camp and look toward him. He raised 
  both hands above his head as a sign that he came in 
  peace. No one spoke as he crossed the open ground to 
  the very edge of the camp; then a man ran forward 
  with glad cry. 
  "Von!" 
  It was a moment before von Horst recognized who it 
  was that spoke his name. It was Dangar, and behind 
  Dangar were Thorek, Lotai, and Murnal. Von Horst was 
  astounded. How had these come together? Who were 
  the armed men? 
  Presently a tall, fine looking man came forward. "You 
  are Lieutenant von Horst?" he asked. 
  "Yes; and you?" 
  "David Innes. When the O-220 returned to the outer 
  crust and Jason Gridley decided to go back with it, he 
  made me promise that I would equip an expedition and 
  249 
  
   
  make a thorough search for you. I did so immediately I 
  returned to Sari. I had no luck until some of my men 
  met Dangar returning to Sari after a long absence. He 
  guided us to The Forest of Death. Once we had passed 
  through that we had no idea in what direction to search 
  until we came upon Thorek, Lotai, and Mumal escaping 
  from the land of the mammoth-men. 
  "They told us that they believed that you had es-
  caped, and they thought you might be searching for 
  Lo-har. We had never heard of Lo-har, but we suc-
  ceeded in taking a prisoner who knew the direction in 
  which the country lay. Later we came upon a man named 
  Skruf whom you had wounded with an arrow. We 
  promised him protection and he directed us to the 
  village of the bison-men. Now we were nearing Lo-har, 
  but still it was difficult to find. These people only knew 
  the general direction in which it lay. Our one hope was 
  to capture a Lo-harian. This we did before the last 
  sleep. He is with us now and guiding us much against 
  his will toward his own country, for he thinks we will 
  turn upon him and his people." 
  "Who is he?" asked von Horst. 
  "Bran, the chief of the Lo-harians," replied Innes. 
  Von Horst signalled for his tribesmen to come in to 
  the camp, and asked that Brun be brought. Innes sent 
  for him, telling him that some of his own people had 
  come to meet him. But when Brun came and saw von 
  Horst he drew himself up very proudly and turned his 
  back. 
  "I do not know this man," he said. "He is not of Lo-
  har." 
  "Look at those who are coming, Brun," suggested von 
  Horst. "You will know them all, especially La-ja." 
  "La-ja!" exclaimed the chief. "I had given her up for 
  dead. I have searched a world for her." 
  250 
  
   
  The men of Lo-har camped with the men of Sari in 
  friendship, and there was much palaver, and a great deal 
  of food was eaten, and they slept twice in that one 
  camp before they spoke of breaking it. 
  "You will come back to Sari with us, Lieutenant?" 
  asked Innes. "Gridley may come back on another expedi-
  tion at any time now; it may be your only chance to re-
  turn to the outer crust." 
  Von Horst glanced at a little, yellow haired cave-girl 
  gnawing on a bone. 
  "I am not at all sure that I care to return to the outer 
  crust," he said. 
  251 
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/_GM Books/Appendix N/Back to Stone Age/Back to Stone Age - Edgar Rice Burroughs.pdf