The Return of Tharn Part 4

That uncanny instinct which so often had guided Tharn through unfamiliar territory did not fail him this time, and within half an hour he and his burden were gazing from the safety of a high branch at the deserted cliffside containing the caves of Gerdak.

At the sight of the familiar scene a great weight seemed to press against Trakor's heart. Was his new-found friend deserting him--returning him to certain suffering at the hands of short-tempered Gerdak? Did not Tharn know that never again would he dare to return to his own cave--that the chief would make him pay a thousandfold for championing the giant stranger?

Dreading the reply, he asked: "Why have we come back here, Tharn?"

"You told me Roban, son of Gerdak, knows the route taken by the Ammadians," said Tharn. "I am going to ask him where I may find it."

"But you cannot!" cried Trakor. "The instant Gerdak and his warriors see you their spears will cut you to pieces!"

"Then I must keep from being seen," Tharn observed lightly. "Point out to me the cave where Roban sleeps. I will enter and get him, bringing him here that I may question him in peace."

Trakor was horrified by the suggestion. "It is impossible! Mighty as you are, you could not hope to enter and leave the chief's own cave without being caught. Always several warriors sleep just within the entrance, for there are several among the tribe who hate Gerdak and he fears a.s.sa.s.sination while he sleeps."

For a long moment Tharn seemed lost in thought and Trakor was congratulating himself upon his success in talking the cave lord out of his mad scheme. But Tharn's next words showed his silence had been prompted by another reason altogether.

"Describe Gerdak's cave to me," he said, "telling me, if you can, where in it Roban is most likely to be sleeping."

For a second Trakor was tempted to disclaim all knowledge of the subject. But then the realization came that Tharn would go ahead with his plan with or without the information he sought.

Carefully he told all he could about the chief's cave, describing in minute detail its layout and plan, together with such information as where the guards were likely to be sleeping and the probable location of Roban's sleeping furs.

Roban, he said, would not be difficult to pick out. He was about Trakor's own age but very skinny, with long legs and arms and a peculiarly shaped head, the crown rising almost to a point. He was an unpleasant youngster, sly and cunning, and generally disliked.

Tharn listened attentively; and when his new friend was done, he unshipped the quiver of arrows from its place on his back and handed it and his spear to Trakor. The gra.s.s rope he left coiled across his shoulder and under the opposite arm, and his flint knife remained in the folds of his loin-cloth.

"Wait here for me," Tharn said. The boy nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and watched the other slip easily through the branches to the ground at the clearing's edge.

Broken cloud formations dotted the midnight sky and Tharn waited patiently until one of them could obscure the full moon long enough for him to gain the foot of the steep scarp a hundred yards away. Several times small clouds blotted out Uda's radiant beams; but not until a sizable one moved into the proper position did Tharn leave the protecting shadows of the tree.

With great bounding strides, silent as the shadows themselves, Tharn crossed the clearing to the cliff's base. For a few moments he skirted its edge until he located a series of man-carved ridges which formed a rude and perilous ladder to the cave entrances above. With the sure-footedness of long practice he swarmed lightly upward, past cave after cave, until he came to rest a few feet below the yawning hole marking the entrance to Gerdak's dwelling.

He crouched there motionless, his ears straining for some indication that those within were still awake. But other than a faint sound of someone snoring, he heard nothing.

With infinite stealth he drew himself onto the ledge outside. To his unbelievably sensitive nostrils came the a.s.sorted smells of a Cro-Magnon shelter. Through the medium of scent he established that five men and two women were within, all of them his ears said were sound asleep.

Suddenly the cloud was gone from the moon's face and silver effulgence bathed the cliffside, leaving Tharn exposed to possible discovery. And so, crouching, the naked blade of his flint knife held ready, Tharn entered the lair of Gerdak, chief of a Cro-Magnon tribe.

As Tarlok, the leopard, stalks the wariest of gra.s.s-eaters, so did Tharn make his way into that black hole. No human ear would have been able to mark his pa.s.sage as his naked feet, seemingly endowed with eyes of their own, threaded their way past one sleeping body after another.

Two warriors lay athwart the entrance; these Tharn stepped across, so close he could feel the animal heat from their bodies. Past a stack of spears piled against a side wall, avoiding a block of stone on which were piled several baked clay pots and dishes, skirting a heap of furs where an old woman slept, mouth open and the breath whistling between toothless gums ... these were danger points along the way.

At last he reached the rear wall of the cave--and there he found the object of his search. A lanky length of tanned human lay face up on a pile of skins, breathing heavily, arms thrown wide. A few feet away, near a side wall, lay the stocky form and hairless pate that belonged to Gerdak, the chief.

The time had come for the high point of danger in Tharn's plan.

Crouching beside the sleeping form of Roban, Tharn tightened his hold on the hilt of his knife, swung his arm in a short savage arc and brought the b.u.t.t of the knife hard against the young man's skull!

There was a single violent upheaval of limbs which Tharn smothered instantly beneath his own weight, a sobbing cry which died unborn as a mighty hand pressed against the parted lips ... and Roban lay senseless.

Swinging the unconscious youth to his shoulders, Tharn turned to make his way back to the cave entrance. Three cautious steps he took ... and then a muscular hand closed about his ankle!

CHAPTER III

SADU ATTACKS

Sadu, the lion, pacing slowly and majestically through the velvet blackness of a jungle night, came to a sudden halt as Siha, the wind, brought to his sensitive nostrils the acrid scent of burning wood.

For several long minutes the great cat stood as though turned to stone, his broad nostrils twitching nervously under the biting fumes. Sadu was unpleasantly familiar with the red teeth that ate everything in their path, for it had been scarcely a moon ago that he barely escaped the fangs of a forest fire.

Had it been smoke alone which Sadu smelled, he would have turned away and sought his night's food elsewhere. But commingled with the scent of fire was another smell, and it was the latter that finally sent him slinking ahead.

After the lion progressed another several hundred yards in this manner, the winding game trail debouched abruptly into a large natural clearing bordering the reed-covered banks of a wide shallow river.

Standing amid the impenetrable shadows cast by a great tree at the clearing's edge, Sadu surveyed with slitted eyes the bustle of activity about the open ground. There were at least fifty men there, some of them tending a blazing windrow of branches arranged in a large circle to encompa.s.s a considerable section of open ground where were heaped several mounds of supplies. Others were preparing the evening meal, bringing water from the river and performing the other duties which go with establishing camp for the night.

It was the scent of these men that had brought Sadu here. Ordinarily he would have pa.s.sed up the two-legged creatures for the more satisfactory flesh of zebra or deer, but there had been an absence of such meat lately because gra.s.s-replenishing rain had not fallen in many moons and the gra.s.s-eaters had strayed away from the vicinity in search of fresh pastures. Too, Sadu had found man easy prey when he was alone--in numbers he was dangerous, particularly when backed by burning brands and sharp-pointed sticks.

The circle of fire with which these men had surrounded themselves gave Sadu pause. Only the pangs of hunger kept him from turning about and seeking less complicated prey. Slowly the heavy lips rolled back, baring the great fangs, and from the depths of the cavernous chest came a series of grunting coughs.

As the dull, rumbling challenge reached the ears of those within the camp, men straightened from their tasks and looked fearfully into the heavy darkness beyond the light from the fires. A few unslung their bows and tested the strings, while others made sure their heavy war spears were within reach.

In the center of the camp itself, a group of five people--two girls and three men--broke off their conversation as the first notes of Sadu's voice reached them, and looked nervously at one another.

"Sadu is hungry too," one of the girls observed lightly as she turned her attention back to the freshly grilled meat on the clay dish before her.

"Will he attack us?" the other girl asked unsteadily, her dark eyes round with fear. Her slender, softly rounded body was covered with a knee-length tunic of some coa.r.s.e, woven material and a cloud of black curls framed the delicate features of her olive-skinned face.

"I do not think so, Alurna," the first girl said, without taking her eyes from her food. "Sadu fears fire; he would have to be close to starving to brave the flames."

One of the three men, a slight, small-boned man whose round, full-fleshed face habitually wore an expression of slow-witted amiability, moved a little closer to the fire. "How do we know," he said anxiously, "whether this lion is not that hungry?"

The first girl shook back her wealth of reddish brown hair and looked at the speaker, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter. She said, "We _can't_ know, Javan--not until he either springs through the fire or turns around and goes away."

If the words brought any comfort to Javan, his actions failed to show it. Once more he shifted his position until he was close to sitting in the burning branches and the fingers of his right hand were trembling uncontrollably as he groped for his flint-tipped spear.

"Dylara jests, Javan," the tall, broad-shouldered man next to him said.

"There are too many of us for even several lions to attack."

"You say that, Jotan," Dylara said, "because you do not know Sadu as I know him. Often he will charge a hundred warriors through fires far larger than ours, yet at times several lions have run away from one man walking alone in the jungle. More than any other beast, Sadu is a creature of moods, and no one can say for sure what he will do."

The third man in the group rose now to sc.r.a.pe the remaining food on his plate into the fire. He said, "We are certainly in no position to dispute with Dylara the habits of animals." There was a subtle note of condescension in his voice that only Jotan and the princess Alurna noticed. "You must remember that Dylara is different from us. Most of her life has been spent among the people of the caves, and there can be no doubt but that the barbarians know the jungle and its life far better than we can ever hope to."