All through the day he watched the clans. He saw them fish at the rapids and feast and play around the fire. He saw them go to a smooth spot near the bank where they played games. When night came he said to himself, “I’ll watch the dance and learn their plans.”
Scarface offered gifts to the gods before the dance began. As he performed the magic rites, all the people were still. Every eye was turned toward the old man. No one suspected danger.
Fleetfoot, watching from a safe retreat, had heard a rustling sound. And, looking in the direction from which the sound came, he saw a big tiger in a neighboring tree.
The tiger had crept out on a strong branch and was watching for his prey. The eyes of the big cat snapped fire as they followed each movement that Scarface made.
There was not a moment to be lost. The tiger was about to spring. Fleetfoot’s spear whizzed through the air and dealt a powerful blow. Another followed, but with less force although Fleetfoot hurled it with all his might.
With a cry of rage the tiger turned, and leaving Scarface upon the ground, he sprang toward Fleetfoot. And the Cave-men grasped their weapons and rushed to the spot.
They found the tiger dying from the effect of the first blow. They watched his death struggles. Then they looked for the man who had hurled a spear that struck a death blow.
If Fleetfoot had not been struck senseless, he might have made his escape. But as it happened, the Cave-men found him lying on the ground, and they raised him up and carried him to a spot near the bright camp-fire.
THINGS TO DO