He explained what had happened.
"Well ... seeing the condition of you," admitted Kwint, examining the tattered giant before him, "I myself believe it was really that way. But you know, Yorgh, it is said of you—"
"That I seldom speak in earnest," Yorgh finished for him. "But I did what I could! Look at me! I am practically naked to the rays of The Star!"
Kwint was silent.
"Well, say something!" roared Yorgh.
The other kicked at the ground with the toe of his boot.
"Even so," he murmured, "it would be best to stay out a few days, till we can tell your side of it around. They wanted to kill you!"
"Kill me!" gasped Yorgh.
It was a rough life they led, with brawling and even wounds when tribes mingled, but the one strict taboo was that no human might kill another—at least, not completely. It was the law of all tribes, handed down with legends that they had come to The World from the stars and were once as numerous as the stars.
"I tried to quiet Moyt with my spear butt," said Kwint, "for he was talking for hanging; but he is almost as big as you and knocked me down, as you can see. Then the boy came charging out of his father's tent and pushed the cooking pot over on Moyt, for which Tefior beat him and tied him to the tent pole. And—this hurts me to say—the water wasn't even hot!"