e storm had
stopped. Edging to the mouth of the cave, Temple spread the foliage
with his hands, peered cautiously outside. Satisfied, he took his bow
and arrows and left the cave, pangs of hunger knotting his stomach
painfully.

The cave had been weathered in the side of a short, steep abutment a
dozen paces from a gushing, swollen stream. Temple followed the course
of the stream as it twisted through the jungle, ranging half a mile
from his cave until the water course widened to form a water-hole. All
morning Temple waited there, crouching in the grass, until one by one,
the forest animals came to drink. He selected a small hare-like thing,
notched an arrow to his bow, let it fly.

The animal jumped, collapsed, began to slink away into the
undergrowth, dragging the arrow from its hindquarters. Temple darted
after it, caught it in his hands and bashed its life out against the
bole of a tree. Returning to his cave he found two flinty stones,
shredded a fallen branch and nursed the shards dry in the strong
sunlight. Soon he made a fire and ate.

* * * * *

In the days which followed, Temple returned to the water-hole and
bagged a new catch every time he ventured forth. Things went so well
that he began to range further and further from his cave exploring.
Once however, he returned early to the water-hole and found footprints
in the soft mud of its banks.

The woman.

That she had been observing him while he had hunted had never occurred
to Temple, but now that the proof lay clearly before his eyes, the
old feeling of uncertainty came back. And the next day, when he crept
stealthily to the water-hole and saw the woman squatting there in the
brush, waiting for him, he fled back to his cave.

The thought hit him suddenly. If she were stalking him, why must he
flee as from his own shadow? There would be no security for either of
them until either one or the other were gone--and gone meant dead.
Then Temple would do his own stalking.

For several nights Temple hardly slept. He could have found the
water-hole blindfolded merely by following the stream. Each night he
would reach the hole and work, digging with a sharp stone, until he
had fashioned a pit fully ten feet deep and six feet across. This he
covered with branches, twigs, leaves and finally dirt.

When he returned in the morning he was satisfied with his work. Unless
the woman made a careful study of the area, she would never s