"He is upwind from us."
"Upwind? You mean you can scent him?"
The young man from the tribe of Gerdak nearly betrayed his skepticism. Never before had he heard of a man whose nose could receive and interpret a scent spoor. It smacked of a kinship with the animals themselves.
"Are you sure?" he asked uneasily.
Tharn's quick ear caught the undercurrent of incredulity in the boy's voice, and he smiled under the cover of darkness. It was not the first time his unique ability had been doubted. He drew Trakor to a halt.
"Watch," he said.
Lifting his head the cave lord gave voice to the hunting squall of a leopard. So perfect was his imitation of Tarlok's cry, so fearsome the sound, that Trakor shrank back in quick alarm.
As the harsh scream rose on the night air, there was a sudden flurry of motion among the tangled foliage to their right, a blurred figure skidded into the trail ahead of where they stood and disappeared around a bend of the path. In the brief moment in which it was visible, Trakor recognized the animal as Gubo.
Crestfallen, Trakor could think of nothing to say. Never again, he resolved, would he doubt any statement made by this god-like stranger. There were many questions he burned to ask, but an aura of reserve seemed to surround the man—an aura he hesitated to intrude upon. At last he could contain his curiosity no longer.