had you seen him close in battle with Tarlok, the leopard, with only a stone knife to use against Tarlok's teeth and claws, had he carried any of you through the highest branches of the forest top—then you would know why I am sure he came through the battles in Sephar's arena! That is why I know that even now he is on his way to take me from you."

"And when he does come, neither you nor all the warriors with you can keep him from his purpose. You are children—all of you!—when compared to Tharn!"

The nails of Jotan's fingers were biting into his palms. "And would you go with him, Dylara?" he asked between stiff lips.

The girl's lovely brown eyes softened as she saw the pain under his carefully expressionless face.

"Yes, I would go with him," she said gently. "All of us know that I am no more than a prisoner among you. All of you have been kind and thoughtful and friendly toward me. Yet there is never a moment that I am not under the eyes of a guard. That is why I say that, given the chance, I would escape and return to the caves of Majok, my father."

Alurna shuddered. "You would not get very far, Dylara. The jungle beasts would get you the first night."

"I think not," Dylara said matter-of-factly. "You keep forgetting that I am not a Sepharian. The jungle and plains are not to me the horrible places they seem to you who have spent your lives behind the stone walls of your cities."

"How can you think of returning to such a life, Dylara?" Jotan said, almost pleadingly. "It is no way for a girl to live—in constant danger day after day, living in cold, damp holes in a cliff, wearing only an animal skin."

"Wait until you have seen the city of Ammad! As wonderful as Sephar must have seemed to you, it is crude and barbaric when compared to the splendor of the cities of my country. And in all the world there is no palace so lavish as that of Jaltor, king of all Ammad. Why, a few days among the glories and comforts of life among my people and the thought of returning to your caves would be hateful indeed!"

But Dylara was shaking her head. "No, Jotan. Tamar is right when he says I would not fit into such a life. I was taken to Sephar as a slave to the Sepharians; and, as considerate as you have been, I am being taken to Ammad while still a slave."

"Not as a slave!" Jotan protested. "You are to become my mate. You will be shown the same honor, the same respect that I am given. I am a noble of Ammad, Dylara. Jaltor, ruler of Ammad, is my father's closest friend. He—all Ammad—will be at your feet the day we go before the high-priest of the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud and he makes you my mate."

The conversation clearly had gotten out of hand. Both Jotan and Dylara, so hard did each strive to make the other see his side of the argument, were putting into words things they ordinarily would never have said in front of those with them.

And all during the exchange, Alurna, princess of Sephar, sat there and watched them, her head bowed slightly and a hand shielding her face that none might see the hatred and jealousy mirrored there.

For Jotan was hers! Whether he was aware of that as yet was immaterial. Men had been blinded by beauty before and still brought to their senses before it was too late. As lovely as the cave girl was, Alurna knew that her own beauty suffered little by comparison—something that Jotan would have seen long ago were his eyes not blinded by a mad infatuation.

There was little else to do for the time being, Alurna realized, except wait. Tonight or tomorrow or a moon from now the opportunity for ridding herself of her brown-haired rival would come along. She had almost arranged the girl's death in Sephar, but Dylara had slain the hired assassin. Next time the result would be different. Fortunately it was not something that had to be done in a hurry. Dylara gave no indication of willingly becoming Jotan's mate, and being a person of high principles, Jotan would have her no other way. The only danger, really, was that his unfailing courtesy, thoughtfulness and complete adoration might succeed in winning the cave girl's love.

Sadu, the lion, standing beyond the circle of light cast by the fire, raised his voice in a challenging roar that cut into silence the encampment of humans. His hunger was growing with the passage of time and the sight of the many two-legged creatures behind the leaping flames.

Again, Sadu's majestic voice rolled out, filling the clearing with spine-tingling sound, and from the depths of night-shrouded jungle behind him came an answering roar. A moment later the foliage parted and a second lion slunk through the shadows just beyond the periphery of light. The newcomer was a great, tawny-maned beast even larger than the first. He eyed the blazing piles of branches and the men beyond them with slitted eyes for a long moment, then uttered a series of low, coughing grunts. In response to the signal, three more lions—a female and two full-grown males—emerged from the undergrowth to join their leader.

The first lion eyed the strange family and bared his great fangs, warning them with a low rumble that he would permit no interference in his hunting. They stared at him silently with a kind of dignified reserve, then turned their attention toward the humans beyond the wall of fire.

Two full hours dragged past. Within the camp the larger part of the caravan was sleeping soundly, huddled against the chill night air in sleeping furs. The normal guard of ten warriors had been doubled against the possibility of attack by the great cats.

Suddenly one of the lions rose to its feet and with regal deliberateness stalked into the open ground bordering the line of fires. Slowly the jungle king strode along the unsteady line of burning wood, his lithe sinews rolling beneath the shimmering hide, the sinuous tail moving in graceful undulations. Soundless were his padded paws on the turf and the mighty voice was silent.

Several minutes passed before one of the guards caught sight of the single lion. The man lifted a loud shout of alarm and several more of the sentries hastened to join their companion. When he pointed out Sadu less than a spear's cast outside the fires, the others readied their weapons for the attack they expected at any moment; while Sadu, seeing the flurry of motion among the hated manthings, lifted his mighty head and gave voice to a thunderous roar. "... Dylara! Dylara!"

The cave girl awakened instantly at sound of the frightened voice. She sat up and threw back the folds of her sleeping furs. In the flickering reddish glow of the night fires she saw the slender form of the princess Alurna bending over her.

"What is the matter?" Majok's daughter demanded.

"The lions!" Alurna moaned through chattering teeth. "Listen!"

Fully aroused by the other's panic, Dylara rose from the ground and tried to pierce the velvet wall beyond the light. Most of the camp's sentries were grouped at a point near the line of fire, fingering their spear and bows nervously and staring at something between them and the jungle.

... Sadu ceased his uneasy pacing, his tail lashing now in brief, jerky movements. Too long had he put off feeding. The fearsome fires were dimmer now; let them die down just a little more and he would leap across them and take his food.

Elsewhere among the sheltering trees the other lions watched him with unblinking attention. By now there were fully a score of the mammoth brutes lying among the tall grasses and reeds. In two's and threes—even one family of six—they had assembled, drawn to the scene by the voices of the first arrivals.

Again Sadu threw back his head and poured out his rumbling roar, seeking to build up his confidence sufficiently to brave the fires protecting his prey. Cautiously he