e hairy warriors poured from their caves.
The bows with their poison-tipped arrows, which I had taught them to
fashion and to use, were raised against me. Swords of hammered
iron--another of my innovations--menaced me, as with lusty shouts the
horde charged down.

It was a critical moment. Before I should be recognized I might be
dead. It was evident that all semblance of intertribal relationship
had ceased with my going, and that my people had reverted to their
former savage, suspicious hatred of all strangers. My garb must have
puzzled them, too, for never before of course had they seen a man
clothed in khaki and puttees.

Leaning my express rifle against my body I raised both hands aloft. It
was the peace-sign that is recognized everywhere upon the surface of
Pellucidar. The charging warriors paused and surveyed me. I looked
for my friend Ghak, the Hairy One, king of Sari, and presently I saw
him coming from a distance. Ah, but it was good to see his mighty,
hairy form once more! A friend was Ghak--a friend well worth the
having; and it had been some time since I had seen a friend.

Shouldering his way through the throng of warriors, the mighty
chieftain advanced toward me. There was an expression of puzzlement
upon his fine features. He crossed the space between the warriors and
myself, halt-ing before me.

I did not speak. I did not even smile. I wanted to see if Ghak, my
principal lieutenant, would recognize me. For some time he stood there
looking me over carefully. His eyes took in my large pith helmet, my
khaki jacket, and bandoleers of cartridges, the two revolvers swinging
at my hips, the large rifle resting against my body. Still I stood
with my hands above my head. He examined my puttees and my strong tan
shoes--a little the worse for wear now. Then he glanced up once more
to my face. As his gaze rested there quite steadily for some moments I
saw recognition tinged with awe creep across his countenance.

Presently without a word he took one of my hands in his and dropping to
one knee raised my fingers to his lips. Perry had taught them this
trick, nor ever did the most polished courtier of all the grand courts
of Europe perform the little act of homage with greater grace and
dignity.

Quickly I raised Ghak to his feet, clasping both his hands in mine. I
think there must have been tears in my eyes then--I know I felt too
full for words. The king of Sari turned toward his warriors.