they
followed downstream until a game trail was reached.

Motioning for the girl to seek the concealing foliage of a tree, Tharn
slipped behind the bole of another bordering the pathway. Drawing his
knife, he froze into complete immobility.

Ten minutes, twenty--a half an hour dragged by. From her elevated
position Dylara watched the young man, marveling at the indomitable
patience that could keep him motionless, waiting. The strong lines of
his body appealed vividly to her, although she was quick to insist it
was entirely impersonal; she would have been as responsive, she told
herself, had it been the figure of Sadu, the lion, crouching there.

Then--although she had heard nothing--she saw Tharn stiffen expectantly.
Two full minutes passed. And then, stepping daintily, every sense alert
for hidden danger, came sleek Bana--the deer.

Here was food fit for the mate of a chief! The man of the caves
tightened his strong fingers about the knife hilt.

On came Bana. Tharn drew his legs beneath him like a great cat.

And then events followed one another in rapid sequence. As the
unsuspecting animal drew abreast of him, Tharn, with a long, lithe
bound, sprang full on its back, at the same instant driving the stone
blade behind Bana's left foreleg and into the heart. The deer stumbled
and fell. Dylara dropped from the tree, reaching Tharn's side as he rose
from the body of the kill.

As he stood erect, still clutching the reddened blade, an arrow sped
through the sunlight and raked a deep groove along his naked side.

At the shock of pain which followed, Tharn whirled about in a movement
so rapid that his body seemed to blur. Before he could do more, however,
a heavy wooden club flashed from a clump of undergrowth at his back,
striking him a terrible blow aside the head. A searing white light
seemed to explode before him; then blackness came and he knew no more.

CHAPTER III

The Strange City

Dylara was first aware of a dull pain centering at the juncture of cheek
and jaw. Half conscious, she put her fingers to the aching spot--and
opened her eyes.

"How do you feel?" asked a man's deep voice.

Dylara, blinking in the strong sunlight, sat up. In front of her,
squatted on his haunches before a small grass-fed fire, was a slender,
wirily built man of uncertain age, his narrow hawk-like face creased in
a thin-lipped smile as he squinted at her.

"I don't.... What--" Dylara began in a dazed voice.

The m