"Where lie the caves of your people, Tharn?"
"Nearly two moons' march to the north," the cave lord replied readily enough.
"You came so great a distance alone?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Tharn did not at once reply. During the moon since he had set out from Sephar in search of Dylara this was his first opportunity for a friendly word with a fellow man. On the several occasions that he encountered hunting parties of Cro-Magnon warriors, he had been regarded as legitimate prey to be hunted down and slain. Tharn expected no different attitude; it was the way of his own people when they came across fighting-men of other tribes. Consequently he gave such groups a wide berth, fighting against them only when given no other choice.
Long periods of silence, however, were no hardship to Tharn. Since boyhood he was accustomed to spending most of his days and many nights alone in the jungles and on the broad plains of this savage, untamed world, finding his greatest pleasure in matching his courage, cunning and strength against the denizens of forest and prairie. And because none of the other young men of his father's tribe was so highly developed mentally or physically, he made no intimates among them.
It was the kind of life which tends to develop a reticent nature in any man; and while Tharn was in no way morose or antisocial he was given to saying little beyond what must, of necessity, be put into words.
Under the warmth of Trakor's awed respect and undisguised admiration, however, Tharn's customary reserve began to thaw and he spoke at greater length than he intended.