Dan Carter, who enjoyed his meals and never passed up anything, was the hero of the hour. The savages believed in doing everything thoroughly: if they fought, they fought to kill and when they ate, they stuffed to bursting.
Dick Oakwood, with his habit of moderate eating, would have made a poor impression but for the exploits of Dan, who upheld the honor of both by his attacks upon the food.
As Dan picked a bone, he threw it behind him, over his shoulder and instantly a child of the tribe would snatch it as a prize.
The Gorols were in high spirits. They foresaw happy days ahead, days of hunting and feasting with no more fear of war with the Taharans to disturb their sleep.
"We are all friends and brothers!" said Wabiti, rising with a gourd full of the honey drink.
"Friends and brothers," echoed Dick.
Wabiti chuckled sleepily, sat down abruptly and the next moment his head fell forward and he began snoring like a buzz saw.
Dick was not displeased. He looked forward to many happy years, studying these simple people, left over from the Old Stone Age, and watching them develop as he taught them the arts of peace.
After the Gorols had eaten all their skins could hold, they began to drop off to sleep and Dick called Raal to him.
"Now is a good time for us to explore the country undisturbed," he said. "You and I will look over the Black Boiling Spring that I saw one terrible night. And I would enter the cave of the Great Gorol, where we stole the sacred black image."