an fished a bit of scorched meat from the flames and bit off a
mouthful. "The next time," he said thickly, "be careful whose face you
scratch. Trokar doesn't make a habit of hitting girls, but you turned on
him like a panther when he tried to keep you from running away. He'll
carry the marks for a while!"

Memories flooded in on her. She saw the sun-dappled trail; saw Tharn
rise from the body of Bana, only to go down under the cruel impact of a
heavy club; saw the horde of oddly dressed men spring from concealment
and rush toward her. She had turned to run, but a grinning warrior had
intercepted her. And when she had raked her nails across his cheek, his
good-humored expression had darkened--she remembered no more.

"But--but Tharn?" she cried. "Where is he? Did you--Is he--"

The man shrugged. "If you mean the man who was with you ... well, we
intended only to stun him. There is need in Sephar for strong slaves.
But the club that brought him down was thrown too hard."

"Then he is--dead?"

The hawk-faced one nodded.

Dylara was too shocked to attempt analysis of her feelings. She knew
only that an unbearable weight had come into her heart; beyond that her
thoughts refused to go. Sudden tears stung her eyes.

* * * * *

The man rose and set about stamping out the fire. Watching him, the girl
began to note how greatly this man differed from one of her own tribe.
To begin with, he was smaller, both in build and in stature. His skin,
under its heavy tan, was somewhat darker; his hair very black. He wore a
tunic of some coarsely woven grayish white material; rude sandals of
deerskin covered his feet. A quiver of arrows and a bow--both completely
unfamiliar objects to the girl--swung from his shoulders, and a long
thin knife of flint was thrust under a belt of skin at his waist.

His speech, too, had shown he was of another race. While it had been
intelligible, his enunciation was puzzling at times; occasionally hardly
understandable. The similarity to the Cro-Magnon tongue was far stronger
than basic; still, there was considerable difference in subtle shadings
of pronunciation and sentence structure.

He turned to her, finally. "Are you hungry?"

"No," she said dully.

"Good. We have delayed too long, as it is. Sephar is more than two suns
away, and we are anxious to return."

He raised his voice in a half-shouted, "Ho!" In response a half-score of
men rose from the tall grasses