Warrior of the Dawn Part 1

Warrior of the Dawn.

by Howard Carleton Browne.

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 gra.s.sland. 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 gra.s.ses 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 gra.s.ses, 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 gra.s.s-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 pa.s.sage 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.

[Footnote A: Probably no race of man in all history has so stimulated the imagination of scientists as that of Cro-Magnon Man. The origin of the race is lost in antiquity, although its arrival on the scene was supposed to have taken place between 35,000 and 20,000 B.C. It is established, however, that hordes of the white-skinned, strong-thewed cave-dwellers over-ran, long before the dawn of history, what today is southern Europe and the Mediterranean Basin. This section of the earth's surface was spa.r.s.ely populated, at the time, by Neanderthal Man--the last of the sub-human fore-runners of h.o.m.o Sapiens.

Immediate warfare raged between the two. The Cro-Magnards, while lacking the tremendous muscles and long, ape-like arms of the Neanderthaloids, were far more intelligent (as witness the dimensions of their heads; a brain-case exceeding in size that of present day man), and gradually eliminated the native Neanderthals. Between the two, there was little difference in man-made weapons. The princ.i.p.al weapon of both was the club; but, in Cro-Magnon's case, this was augmented by the flint knife, clumsily shaped but effective. It is entirely possible that the latter people made use of the rope, both as one of the amenities and as a weapon of offense.

Cro-Magnon Man was the proud possessor of a virtue both new and startling in a world given only to the struggle for survival. This virtue was Leisure--a period in which he was free to do things other than kill his enemies, hunt, and eat. He used his leisure to develop an artistic sense that found its expression in the painting of everyday scenes from his life. The walls of his cave served as a canvas; his materials, princ.i.p.ally ochre, he took from the earth. He was the first Artist; and his paintings, still admirable considering the lack of guiding precedence, have endured to this day.

In appearance, Cro-Magnon Man was ruggedly handsome, both in figure and face. He was long-headed, with a short face patterned on the diamond.

The width was extreme, with high cheek-bones slanting up to a narrowing forehead, and down to a short, firm chin. Above a long, finely moulded mouth, the strong, usually prominent nose jutted out imperiously.

The female was considerably smaller than her mate, often reaching no more than to his shoulders. Possibly she was lovely of face and figure; we of today have no evidence to the contrary.

There are authorities who insist no finer specimen of humankind ever existed than the Cro-Magnard. Whether or not this is true, does not alter the fact that he was able to carve a secure niche in a savage and implacable world, and, at the same time, place the feet of his descendants on the path to civilization and a more sheltered life.--Ed.]

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 gra.s.ses 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 him, now."

The third man grinned. "Next time, Barkoo, let Sleeza bite you. While you may die, at least our food will not run away!"

Ignoring the grim attempt at humor, Barkoo scrambled to his feet and watched, in helpless rage, the bobbing heads and flying legs of Neela and his flock, now far away.

Barkoo swore mightily. "And it's too late to hunt further," he growled.

"As it is, darkness will come before we reach the caves of Tharn. To return empty-handed besides--" One of his companions suddenly caught Barkoo by the arm. "Look!" he cried, pointing toward the west.

A young man, clad only in an animal skin about his middle, had leaped from a clump of gra.s.ses less than twenty yards from the fleeing herd. In one hand was a long war-spear held aloft as he swooped toward them.

Instantly the herd turned aside and with a fresh burst of speed sought to out-run this new danger.

"Look at him run!" Barkoo shouted.

With the speed of a charging lion the youth was covering the ground in mighty bounds, slanting rapidly up to the racing animals. A moment later and he had drawn abreast of a sleek young mare, her slim ears backlaid in terror.

Still running at full speed, the young man drew back his arm and sent his spear flashing across the gap between him and the mare, catching her full in the exposed side.

As though her legs had been jerked from under her, the creature turned a complete circle in mid-air before crashing to the ground, her scream of agony coming clearly to the three watching hunters.

Barkoo, when the young man knelt beside the kill, shook his head in tight-lipped tribute.

"I might have known he would do something like this," he said, exasperated. "When I asked him to come with us he refused; the sun was too hot. Now he will laugh at us--taunt us as bad hunters."

"Some day he will not come back from the hunt," predicted one of the men. "He takes too many chances. He goes out alone after Jalok, the panther, and Tarlok, the leopard, with only a knife and a rope. Why, just a sun ago, I heard him say Sadu, the lion, was to be next. Smart hunters leave Sadu alone!"

Tharn, the son of Tharn, watched the three come slowly toward him. His unbelievably sharp eyes of gray caught Barkoo's attempt at an unimpressed expression, and his own lean handsome face broke in a wide smile, the small even white teeth contrasting vividly with his sun-baked skin.

He wondered what had caused the zebra herd to bolt before the hunters could attempt their kill. He had caught sight of them an hour before from the high-flung branches of a tree, and had hidden in the gra.s.s near the probable route of the animals once Barkoo and his men had charged them.

Barkoo, seeming to ignore the son of his chief, came up to the dead zebra and nudged it with an appraising toe.

"Not much meat here," he said to Korgul. "A wise hunter would have picked a fatter one."

Tharn's lips twitched with amus.e.m.e.nt. He knew Barkoo--knew he found fault only to hide an extravagant satisfaction that the chief's son had succeeded where older heads had failed; for Barkoo had schooled him in forest lore almost from the day Tharn had first walked.

That had been a little more than twenty summers ago; today Tharn was more at home in the jungles and on the plains than any other member of his tribe. His confidence had grown with his knowledge until he knew nothing of fear and little of caution. He took impossible chances for the pure love of danger, flaunting his carelessness in the face of his former teacher, jeering at the other's gloomy prophecies of disaster.

Tharn pursed his lips solemnly. "It is true," he admitted soberly, "that a wiser hunter would have made a better choice. That is, if he were not so clumsy that the meat would run away first. Then the wise hunter would not be able to kill even a little Neela. Wise old men cannot run fast."

Barkoo glared at him. "It was Sleeza," he snapped, then reddened at being trapped into a defense. He wheeled on the grinning Korgul. "Get a strong branch," he said sharply....

With the dead weight of the kill swinging from the branch between Korgul and Torbat, the four Cro-Magnon hunters set out for the distant caves of their tribe.

Soon they entered the mouth of a beaten elephant path leading into the depths of dense jungle to the west. It was nearly dark here beneath the over-spreading forest giants, the huge moss-covered boughs festooned with loops and whorls of heavy vines. The air was overladen with the heavy smell of rotting vegetation; the sounds of innumerable small life were constantly in the hunters' ears. Here in the humid jungle, the bodies of the men glistened with perspiration.

By the time they had crossed the belt of woods to come into the open at the beginning of another prairie, Dyta, the sun, was close to the western horizon. Hazy in the far distance were three low hills, their common base buried among a sizable clump of trees. In those hills were the caves of the tribe, and at sight of them the four men quickened their steps.

They were perhaps a third of the way across the open ground, when Tharn, in the lead, halted abruptly, his eyes on a section of the gra.s.ses some hundred yards ahead.