As I was examining myself, Duare made her way along interlocking branches and presently she was at my side. "You're bleeding," she exclaimed. "You are hurt."
"These are nothing but scratches," I assured her; "only my pride is hurt."
"You have nothing to be ashamed of; you should be very proud of what you did. I saw. I glanced behind me as I got to my feet, and I saw you standing right in the path of that terrible beast so that it would not reach me."
"Perhaps," I suggested, "I was too terrified to run—just paralyzed by fear."
She smiled and shook her head. "I know better than that; I know you too well."
"Any risk would be worth taking if it won your approval."
She was silent for a moment, looking down at the basto. The brute was pawing the ground and bellowing. Occasionally it would pause and look up at us.
"We could get away from it by going through the trees," suggested Duare. "They grow very close together here."
"And abandon my new weapons?" I demanded.
"He'll probably go away in a few minutes, as soon as he realizes we are not coming down."