From where he crouched on a strong branch high above the ground, he saw two wide gateways not more than fifty yards apart, both of them guarded by parties of armed men. His keen eyes picked out details of their figures and clothing, both of which excited his keenest interest. With its entrances so closely guarded it would be folly to approach closer during the day. While impatient to reach Dylara's side, he was quite aware that any attempt at rescue now would doubtless cost him his own freedom, if not his life, thereby taking from the girl her only hope of escape. He must wait for night to come, hoping the guards would then be withdrawn.
Reminded that he had not eaten since early morning, Tharn swung back through the trees in search of meat. The plains of this valley appeared to abound with grass-eaters; and not long after, a wild horse fell before his careful stalking. Squatting on the body of his kill, he gorged himself on raw flesh, unwilling to chance some unfriendly eye noticing smoke from a fire.
His appetite cared for, the cave-man bathed in the waters of a small stream. He then knelt on the bank, and using the water as a mirror, cut the sprouting beard from his face by means of a small, very sharp bit of flint taken from a pouch of his loin-cloth. Comfort, rather than vanity, was responsible; a bearded face increased the discomfort of a tropical day.
The sun was low in the west by the time he had returned to his former vantage point, and shortly afterward the heavy wooden gates were pulled shut by their guards, who then withdrew into the city.
Now, the grounds about Sephar were deserted, and soon the sun slipped behind the far horizon. Swiftly twilight gave way to darkness, and stars began to glow softly against the bosom of a clear semi-tropical night.
Two hours—three—went by and still Tharn did not leave his station. Somewhere below him an unidentified animal crashed noisily through the thick undergrowth and moved deeper into the black shadows. Far back in the forest a panther screamed shrilly once and was still; to be answered promptly by the thunderous challenge of Sadu, the lion.
Finally the giant white man rose to his feet on the swaying branch and leisurely stretched. Silently and swiftly he slipped to the ground. He paused there for a moment, ears and nose alert for an indication of danger, then set out across the level field toward the towering wall of Sephar—enigmatic city of mystery and peril.
After Vulcar had led the captive cave-girl from the dining room, a general discussion sprang up. Any reference to the cave people, however, was carefully avoided; the subject, for some reason that nobody quite understood, seemed suddenly taboo.