itiful that Tharn abandoned all caution and plunged forward.

And then he was parting the rank grasses from above the motionless body
of a boy, lying there face down. From a purple-edged hole in his right
side blood dripped in great red blobs to form a widening pool beneath
him.

Tenderly Tharn slipped an arm beneath the shoulders of the youngster and
carefully turned him to his back. Even as he recognized the familiar
features, pale beneath a coat of bronze, he was aware of Barkoo behind
him. Before he could turn, a strong hand thrust him roughly to one side
and the older man was kneeling beside the wounded boy.

"Dartoog!" he cried, his tone a blending of fear and horror and
monstrous rage. "Dartoog, my son! What has happened? Who has done this
to you?"

Weakly the boy's eyes opened. In the brown depths at first were only
weariness and pain. Then they focused on the face of the man and lighted
up wonderfully, while a faint smile struggled for a place on the graying
lips.

"Father!" he gasped.

"Who did this?" demanded Barkoo for the second time.

* * * * *

The eyes closed. Haltingly at first, then more smoothly as though
finding strength in reliving the story, Dartoog spoke:

"It happened only a little while ago. I was near the foot of one of the
hills, making a spear. A few warriors and women were near me; the rest
of our people were in the caves.

"Then, suddenly, many strange fighting-men sprang out from behind trees
at the edge of the clearing. They were as many as leaves on a big tree.
With loud war-cries they ran at us; and before we could get away they
had thrown their spears. I tried to run; but a big warrior caught me and
struck me with his knife."

The son of Barkoo fell silent. Tharn, a flaming rage growing within him,
bent nearer. Behind him were Korgul and Torbat, both very still, their
faces strained.

"Then," the boy continued, "came Tharn, the chief, with our
fighting-men. They came running from the caves and threw themselves upon
the strangers.

"It was a great fight! Many times did the strange warriors try to beat
back our men, and as many times did they fail. Tharn, our chief, was the
reason. So many men that I could not count them, died beneath his knife
and spear. But at last he, too, fell with a spear in his back.

"While they were fighting I crawled to the trees. Then I got to my feet
and ran this way as far as I could. I wanted to find you, fath