WARRIOR OF THE DAWN

by HOWARD BROWNE

[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories December 1942 and January 1943. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Tharn stared in amazement at the city that lay before him

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. In Quest of Vengeance
CHAPTER II. Dylara
CHAPTER III. The Strange City
CHAPTER IV. Came Tharn
CHAPTER V. Pursuit
CHAPTER VI. Katon
CHAPTER VII. Woman Against Woman
CHAPTER VIII. Abduction
CHAPTER IX. Torture
CHAPTER X. The Hairy Men
CHAPTER XI. From Jungle Depths
CHAPTER XII. Enter--Pryak
CHAPTER XIII. Death Stalks the Princess
CHAPTER XIV. Forest Trails
CHAPTER XV. Treachery
CHAPTER XVI. Return to Sephar
CHAPTER XVII .Reunion
CHAPTER XVIII. Death in a Bowl
CHAPTER XIX. A Lesson in Archery
CHAPTER XX. Revolt!
CHAPTER XXI. Conclusion

List of Illustrations

Tharn stared in amazement at the city that lay before him

Tharn swung the nearest warrior bodily into the air

Mog snatched Alurna into his arms and made off through the forest

A rope hissed through the air and Tarlok reared high

CHAPTER I

In Quest of Vengeance

It was late afternoon. Neela, the zebra, and his family of fifteen grazed quietly near the center of a level stretch of grassland. In the distance, and encircling the expanse of prairie, stood a solid wall of forest and close-knit jungle.

For the past two hours of this long hot afternoon Neela had shown signs of increasing nervousness. Feeding a short distance from the balance of his charges, he lifted his head from time to time to stare intently across the wind-stirred grasses to the east. Twice he had started slowly in that direction, only to stop short, stamp and snort uneasily, then wheel about and retrace his steps.

The remainder of the herd cropped calmly at the long grasses, apparently heedless of their leader's unrest, tails slapping flanks clear of biting flies.

Meanwhile, some two hundred yards to the eastward, three half-naked white hunters, belly-flat in the concealing growth, continued their cautious advance.

Wise in the ways of wary grass-eaters were these three members of a Cro-Magnard tribe, living in a day some twenty thousand years before the founding of Rome.[A] With the wind against their faces, with their passage as soundless as only veteran hunters may make it, they knew the zebra had no cause for alarm beyond a vague suspicion born of instinct alone.

And so the three men slipped forward, a long spear trailing in each right hand, their only guide the keen ears this primitive life had developed.

One of the three, a stocky man with a square, strong face and heavily muscled body, deep-tanned, paused to adjust his grasp on the stone-tipped spear he carried. As he did so there was a quick stir in the tangled grasses near his hand and Sleeza, the snake, struck savagely at his fingers.

With a startled, involuntary shout, the man jerked away, barely avoiding the deadly fangs. And then he snatched the flint knife from his loin-cloth and plunged it fiercely again and again into Sleeza's threshing body.

When finally he stopped, the mottled coils were limp in death. He saw then that his companions were standing erect, staring to the west.

From his sitting position he looked up at the others.

"Neela—?" he began.

"—has fled," finished one of the hunters. "He heard you quarreling with Sleeza. We cannot catch