the girl was not aware of being
trailed.

And now a small treeless glade stopped the stalker. Not daring to follow
further, he watched her take an empty gourd from its hiding place in a
clump of grasses and set about filling it with rich, red fruit from a
cluster of low bushes.

Tharn watched her intently from behind the bole of a mighty tree. His
eyes feasted on the matchless beauty of her face and form. Forgotten
completely was the driving motive that had brought him this far from
home. The flaming thirst for revenge was dead, quenched entirely by a
flooding emotion, new to him but old as life itself.

A little later he saw that the girl's search for berries was bringing
her close to a tree some fifty feet to his left. Swinging easily into
the foliage overhead, he moved silently along the boughs until the
strange princess was directly below.

And as he drew to a pause, Tarlok, the leopard, rose from the screen of
leaves just beneath him and, crouching briefly, sprang without warning
at the golden form fifteen feet below.

That second of hesitation on the part of the cat, saved the girl's life.
Tharn, trained to think and to act in the same instant, was in mid-air
as Tarlok's claws left the bark. And so, inches from that softly curved
back, the beast was swept aside by the impact of a hundred and seventy
pounds of muscular manhood.

Snarling its rage, the cat wheeled as it struck the earth, then pounced,
almost in the same motion, at Tharn's half-kneeling figure. But, swift
as was the movement, the man was quicker. Crouching under the arc of the
hurtling body, the Cro-Magnard drove his long knife to the hilt in the
white-furred belly. The force of the leap, plus the power behind that
strong right arm, tore a long, deep gash, and the animal fell, screaming
with pain and hate. Quickly he regained his feet and again threw himself
at the two-legged creature in his path. But Tharn easily avoided the
charge and vaulted into a nearby tree.

Blood streamed from the fatally wounded leopard as it turned to the
man's leafy haven and attempted to scramble into the lower branches. The
effort cost Tarlok his remaining strength, however, and he toppled
heavily to earth. Once more he sought to regain his feet, only to
collapse and move no more.

As Tharn came down to the floor of the glade, he wondered why the scream
of the giant cat had not brought enemy warriors running to the scene.
That none had appeared made certain his