Meg's eyes were wide with astonishment. From infancy she had been taught that the Wild Ones were mad creatures without mercy, without human sentiments; beasts that prowled the forests with but two thoughts in their minds: to satisfy the hungers of their bellies and to kill. Yet here was a Wild One displaying the civilized emotion of gratitude. To Daiv she said querulously,
"He must be crazed, Daiv! Let us take him with us to the village. The tribe Mother will want to see this marvel—a Wild One with a Woman's instincts."
"He goes free!" said Daiv. He was still curt. He lifted the Wild One to his feet. "Can you find your fellows, Wild One?" he asked.
The Wild One nodded mutely.
"Then, go!" ordered Daiv. "And be more careful of traps in the future. Begone!"
But the Wild One hesitated an instant longer. The words came haltingly from his lips—but they sprang from his heart. "My life is still yours, Hairless One. Should ever you decide to claim it, you will find me north of this spot. In a hillside cave by the waterfall...."
Then he was gone; a brutish, gnarled, hairy shadow sliding through the matted jungle. And to Meg, "Come. Let us find your people," said Daiv. "I am minded to see what folk would harm poor brutes like that one."
Meg pondered for hours, as they marched those last few miles to her native village, but she could not quite discover why it was that her cheeks and throat felt so hot. It was as though the fever-god was within her, but she knew she was not ill....
And so, finally, she riding upon Nessa's back, Daiv striding before her on swift, sure feet, they came to Meg's home. To the village of the Jinnia Clan that was her own.
And again the remembrance of the massive twig and the strange forest returned, bringing with it a half-fear. It lay uneasily in their minds like the brooding residue of a dream....