discovered he voiced a bellow that might have issued from the throat of an angry bull. It was answered from down the gorge and from up, and then others came rapidly into view both in front and behind.
Von Horst was trapped. Upon either side the walls of the canyon, while not high, were unscalable; and behind him were bison-men cutting off retreat, and in front were bison-men effectually blocking his advance. Now they were all bellowing. The rocky walls of the gorge reverberated the angry, bestial chorus of challenge and of menace. They had been waiting for him. Von Horst knew it now. They had heard him call to La-ja. They had known he was following, and they had waited in the concealment of one of the gorges he had passed. How easily they had trapped him. But what might he have done to prevent it? How else might he search for La-ja without following where she went?
What was he to do now? The bison-men were coming toward him very slowly. They seemed to hold him in great respect. He wondered if the abductor of La-ja had had either the time or opportunity to tell his fellows of the havoc this strange gilak had played with the four that had first met him. That was one of the tantalizing characteristics of the inner world—that one might never know the measure of elapsed time, which might easily gauge the difference between life and death.
'What are you doing here in our country?' demanded the nearest of the bison-men.
'I have come for the woman,' replied von Horst. 'She is mine. Where is she?'
'Who are you? We never saw a gilak like you before, or one who could send death from a long way off on little sticks.'
'Get me the woman,' demanded von Horst, 'or I'll send death to you all.' He withdrew an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to his bow.
'You cannot kill us all,' said the creature. 'You have not as many sticks as there are Ganaks.'
'What are Ganaks?' asked von Horst.
'We are Ganaks. We will take you to Drovan. If he says not to kill you, we will not kill you.'
'Is the woman there?'
'Yes.'
'Then I will go. Where is she?'
'Follow the Ganaks in front of you up the gorge.'
They all moved on then in the direction that von Horst had been going, and presently they came to a large, open valley in which there were many trees dotted picturesquely over gently rolling ground. Out upon the plain a short distance lay what appeared to be a circular, palisaded village; and toward this the bison-men led the way.
As he came nearer, von Horst saw that there were fields of growing crops outside the village and that in these fields men and women were working—human beings like himself, not Ganaks; but there were many Ganak bulls loitering around. These performed no labor.
A single small gateway led into the village which consisted of a complete circle of mud huts, one adjoining the other except in this one spot where the gateway lay. Trees grew all around the circle in front of the huts, spreading shade trees. In the center of the large compound was a cluster of huts, and here too there were shade trees.
To these central huts his guides led von Horst, and here he saw a large bison-man standing in the shade switching the flies from his legs with his tufted tail. Facing him stood La-ja with her captor, and half surrounding them was a curious throng of Ganaks.
As the new party approached, the big bull looked in their direction. He had massive horns, and the hair upon his face and shoulders and chest was heavy. His small, round eyes, set wide apart, were red-rimmed and fierce as they glowered menacingly at von Horst. His head was lowered, much after the manner of a beast's.
'What is this?' he demanded, indicating von Horst.
'This is the gilak that killed the three who were with me,' said La-ja's captor.
'Tell me again how he killed them,' directed the big bull.
'He sent little sticks to kill them,' said the other.
'Little sticks do not kill, Trun. You are a fool or a liar.'
'Little sticks did kill the three that were with me and another that was there, a gilak. I saw them kill, Drovan. See them? They are in that thing upon his back.'
'Fetch a slave,' commanded Drovan, 'an old one that is not much good.'
Von Horst stood there gazing at La-ja. He scarcely saw or heard what was going on about him. La-ja was looking at him. Her face was almost expressionless.
'So you are not dead yet,' she said.
'I heard you call me, La-ja,' he said. 'I came as soon as I could.'
She raised her chin. 'I did not call you,' she said haughtily.
Von Horst was dumbfounded. He had heard her call, plainly, twice. Suddenly he became angry. His face flushed. 'You are a little fool,' he said. 'You are absolutely without appreciation or gratitude. You are not worth saving.' Then he turned his back on her.
Instantly he regretted his words; but he was hurt—hurt as he never had been in his life before. And he was too proud to retract what he had said.
A bison-man approached bringing an old slave woman with him. He led her to Drovan. The chief gave her a rough push.
'Go over there and stand,' he ordered.
The old woman moved slowly away—a bent and helpless old creature.
'That's far enough,' shouted Drovan. 'Stand there, where you are.'
'You!' he bellowed, pointing at von Horst. 'What is your name?'
The man eyed the half-beast insolently. He was mad all the way through—mad at himself and the world. 'When you speak to me, don't bellow,' he said.
Drovan lashed his legs angrily with his tail and lowered his head like a mad bull about to charge. He took a few slow steps toward von Horst; and then he stopped and pawed the ground with one foot and bellowed, but the man did not retreat, nor did he show fear.
Suddenly the chief espied the old slave woman standing out in the compound as he had directed her; then he turned again to von Horst. He pointed at the old woman.
'If your sticks will kill,' he said, 'kill her. But I do not believe that they will kill.'
'My sticks will kill,' said von Horst. 'The Ganaks will see that they will kill.'
He took a few steps out into the compound toward the old slave woman and fitted an arrow to his bow; then he turned toward Drovan and pointed at La-ja.
'Will you set that girl and myself free if I show you that my little sticks will kill?' he demanded.
'No,' growled the chief.
Von Horst shrugged. 'Let it be on your own shoulders,' he said; and with that he drew back the feathered shaft, and before anyone could guess his intention or interfere he drove it through Drovan's heart.
Instantly the compound was a riot of bellowing bulls.
They fell upon von Horst before he could fit another arrow to his bow and by weight of numbers bore him to the ground, striking him with their fists and trying to gore him with their horns; but there were so many of them that they interfered with one another.
The man was pretty nearly done for when the attention of his attackers was attracted by a voice of authority. 'Do not kill,' it commanded. 'Let him up. It is I, Kru the Chief, who speaks.'
Instantly the bulls abandoned von Horst and turned on the speaker.
'Who says Kru is chief?' demanded one. 'It is I, Tant, who will be chief now that Drovan is dead.'
During the argument von Horst had dragged himself to his feet. He was half stunned for a moment, but he soon gathered his wits. Quickly he hunted for his bow and found it. Some of the arrows that had dropped from his quiver during the melee he found and retrieved. Now his mind was alert. He looked about him. All the bulls were watching the two claimants for the chieftainship, but some of them were ranging themselves closer to Kru than to Tant. A few went hesitantly to Tant's side. It looked like Kru to von Horst. He stepped over near those who were assembling around Kru.
Surreptitiously he fitted an arrow to his bow. He knew that he was taking a wild chance; and his better judgment told him to mind his own business, but he was still angry and indifferent as to whether he lived or not.
