At sound of his cry, the leader of the newcomers looked sharply in his direction.
"Kill!" shouted young Tharn, bringing one hand out in a sweeping gesture toward the frozen ranks of priests.
In response, the Cro-Magnards threw themselves at the white-clad enemy. At the same time Tharn, the younger, leaped into action, shouting words of instruction and encouragement to his friends.
The end came quickly. Torn at from two sides, the priests broke and fled in all directions, the cave-men in hot pursuit. At sight of this, the original defenders threw down their weapons and surrendered on the spot.
Now came Tharn, the elder, striding forward to greet his son. Behind him crowded others of the tribe, wide smiles on their lips.
"We have searched long for you, my son," said the chief. "At times we were close to giving up; it was not until yesterday that one of us found where you and a girl had followed a game trail leading to this place."
"You could not have arrived at a better time!"
The chief smiled. Katon, watching from the background, marveled at the striking resemblance of father to son when both smiled.
"At first," said the Cro-Magnard leader, "we were almost afraid to leave the jungle's edge. But no one was about the openings in the walls, and as your trail led straight toward one of them, we decided to follow it. Then, too, all of us were curious to see what manner of people lived in such strange caves.
"No one tried to stop us. In fact, we saw no one at all. I was beginning to wonder if we were the only ones here until we heard sounds of fighting coming from here. The rest you know."