"Tell me, then, Jon, and tell this Woman. Are you a man, or are you not?"
A subtle straightening lifted the Wild One's breast, his chin, his eyes. He said firmly:
"I am a Man!"
"But—" protested Beth.
"Shut up, sister!" snapped Steve. "Jon—why do you make war upon the Women?"
"We do not make war upon them, O Firm-of-Hand. Only when our need of mates becomes acute do we seek to linber[3] new mothers for our children that our seed may live on."
"Blasphemy!" screamed the priestess. "I will listen no more! He is no Man. Men are weakling creatures who serve only to enripen our breeding-mothers. This beast—"
"Quiet!" ordered Steve. "Jon, why have you not told these Women you are Men?"
The bearded one shrugged. "It has been tried, Great Chieftain. Many times has it been tried in ages past, but no Woman will listen. They hunt us with packs, they dig pits to trap us and line the pits with sharp sticks, they do not heed our cries for truce and understanding—"
"It is forbidden," defended Beth haughtily, "that a Woman should hear a Wild One's speech. He is no Man—"