The hetman looked at the ground and shook his head. “So far away and the men are big and strong. Our warriors would not have much chance fighting them with sticks. I fear that we cannot secure the fine weapons.”
“Um-m, I am not so sure about that,” said Gonch craftily. “Even though it be a long journey and strong men to contend with, I believe that I can do it.”
The crowd of cave-men stared and gasped. Totan only sneered:
“You? Be careful with your boasting or you will be the choice for our next meal.”
Gonch shuddered. He feared the giant Totan. Had it not been for the latter, he would not long have contented himself with second place among the Castillan cave-men. It was his brain against the hetman’s brawn and so far, brawn had the best of it.
“It is not a question of strength,” he said. “If I go to the Mammoth Man’s country, I will be only a fox among wolves. In no other way can I finally secure the blades.”
“Ugh!” Totan grunted. “And so you intend to steal them. You will get only a cracked head for your pains.”
Gonch laughed scornfully.
“Steal them? No indeed. I know of a much better way than that. I will go to the far-off country and see the Mammoth Man. When I return, I will bring with me——”
“The flints?” growled Totan.