ave seen
him. If it kept on, it would pass about seventy feet away. But Skag
knew it would not keep on. With his mind he might think it would, but
something in him knew it would not.

He remembered Carlin; no, he must not think of her now. He remembered
that Nels was gone; no, he must not think of that either. All the
weapons he had were in his heart, in his head. He set himself in
order, ready. Recalling, while he waited, with what joy he had been
ready to face the tiger that coughed near the monkey glen, to stand
between Carlin and it--he was aware that now he faced a hunting cheetah
_as much for her_.

The cheetah stopped, and turning toward him direct, laid itself along
the ground so tight he could see only a line of colour among the
grasses. There it seemed to stay.

When a man deals with a cat, to allay fear or to establish any common
ground of sympathy, he ought to see its eyes. While realising this
fact, Skag heard a piercing cat-scream, some distance back of him. He
had not heard sounds from any of the animals before. . . . He found
himself calculating whether the monsoon or night or the cheetah, would
reach him first.

Changing sun-rays had laid a sheen resembling silver upon the wall; not
dazzling, but softly bright. After a while the cheetah showed, nearer
than when it settled into the grass. The wall was moving forward
surely--as surely as time--but the cheetah would reach him first.

At last he saw two yellow discs. Then he worked with his power--his
supreme confidence. He had never been more quiet, never more fearless
in his life.

The hunting cheetah moved toward him without pause, till he could see
the whole body along the ground; the broad, short head; the wide,
sun-lit eyes. And while he sent his steady force of human-kindly
thought into those eyes, they _narrowed into slits_. In that instant
Skag knew that the beast had no fear to allay; no quality of nature he
could touch. It was a murderer, pure and simple.

Then he thought of Carlin. . . . Of her brother. . . . Of Nels. He
opened his lips to speak, but the name did not pass his throat.

Carlin, Carlin! It was only a question of time; and Skag folded his
arms.

And high against the wall of the waters rolled the clarion
challenge-call of Nels, the Great Dane dog. The cheetah leaped and
settled back. Skag turned to look the way it faced. A grey line
flashed along the ground. Skag did not know it, but he was raci