The big cat was in the very act of launching itself upon the lad when a loud yell made it pause. The next moment, a man with uplifted ax bounded down the rock-wall and dashed upon the beast. A terrific commotion ensued as the cave-men seized their weapons and leaped to their feet shouting and yelling. They saw the newcomer charge into the bushes. A giant cat’s head and shoulders rose up to meet him and in a jiffy, man and panther were struggling to the death.
The stranger struck one blow. He could not determine its effect nor strike a second, for the beast was upon him. A dozen warriors rushed to his aid. Something crashed down upon his head and when he came to, he was lying upon the ground while somebody wiped his face with a bunch of leaves. The leaves were wet and red. Men’s faces were bending over him. The hunters were jabbering and pointing at the body of a large feline stretched motionless beside him. “The beast would have slain you but for him,” said a voice.
“Yes, I know,” said another—the boy who wiped the face of the stricken man. “Who is he?”
“He came from the sky,” spoke up a third. “I saw him flying through the air. A stranger and yet his ax-blade is the same as ours.”
The stranger was by this time sufficiently recovered to sit up. The cave-men crowded about him.
“Who are you? From where did you come?” asked one.
“He smells like a cave-beast,” said another. “Perhaps he came here to hunt.”
“To hunt panthers,” the boy laughed. “A queer odor but what of that? He saved me from death.”
He was a sturdy lad of about sixteen years, clean-cut and well-muscled. He wore a strip of rawhide wound several times about his waist. A skin-pouch filled with large pebbles hung from his shoulder.