Tharn's mouth hardened. "You can wait for Dyta if you wish," he said slowly. "I am going after them now. They had no quarrel with us, but many of my friends—and yours—are dead. They killed Dartoog. They tried to kill my father. I am not going to wait."
"What can you hope to do alone, against many?" Barkoo asked in matter-of-fact tones. "Wait; go with us when it is light. There will be fighting enough for you then."
Without replying, Tharn stooped and caught up a flint-tipped war-spear. Then he re-coiled the folds of his grass rope about his shoulders and made sure the stone knife was secure in the folds of his loin-cloth.
He turned to the watching men. "I am going now," he said quietly. An instant later the black void of jungle had swallowed him up.
CHAPTER II
Dylara
Uda, the moon, had not yet risen above the trees when the Cro-Magnon youth plunged into the wilderness of growing things. As a result he found his way purely by his familiarity with the territory and a store of jungle lore not surpassed by the beasts themselves. Because of the dense darkness, he was guided by three senses alone: smell, hearing and touch; but these were ample when backed by the keen mind and superhuman strength bequeathed by heritage and environment.
The narrow game trail underfoot swerved abruptly to the west and rose rapidly. For several hundred feet the way was steep, became level for a short distance, then fell away in a long gentle slope to flatness once more.
All this was familiar ground to Tharn. The ridge containing the homes of his people was behind him now; from here on for a day's march was nothing but level country.