teeth, aiming for the spine.

Then the mastodon crashed head downward, as if to turn a
somersault, rolled and was on his feet again, closer to them now
than he had been before. The huge cat had sprung off.

For a moment, the two stood facing one another. Then the tiger
charged, a flowing streak of motion in the moonlight. Buster
wheeled away and the cat, leaping, hit his shoulder, clawed wildly
and slid off. The mastodon whipped to the attack, tusks slashing,
huge feet stamping. The cat, caught a glancing blow by one of the
tusks, screamed and leaped up, to land in spread-eagle fashion
upon Buster's head.

Maddened with pain and fright, blinded by the tiger's raking
claws, the old mastodon ran--straight toward the camp. And as he
ran, he grasped the cat in his trunk and tore him from his hold,
lifted him high and threw him.

"Look out!" yelled Cooper and brought his rifle up and fired.

For an instant, Hudson saw it all as if it were a single scene,
motionless, one frame snatched from a fantastic movie epic--the
charging mastodon, with the tiger lifted and the sound track one
great blast of bloodthirsty bedlam.

Then the scene dissolved in a blur of motion. He felt his rifle
thud against his shoulder, knowing he had fired, but not hearing
the explosion. And the mastodon was almost on top of him, bearing
down like some mighty and remorseless engine of blind destruction.

He flung himself to one side and the giant brushed past him. Out
of the tail of his eye, he saw the thrown saber-tooth crash to
Earth within the circle of the watchfires.

He brought his rifle up again and caught the area behind Buster's
ear within his sights. He pressed the trigger. The mastodon
staggered, then regained his stride and went rushing on. He hit
one of the watchfires dead center and went through it, scattering
coals and burning brands.

Then there was a thud and the screeching clang of metal.

"Oh, no!" shouted Hudson.

Rushing forward, they stopped inside the circle of the fires.

The helicopter lay tilted at a crazy angle. One of its rotor
blades was crumpled. Half across it, as if he might have fallen as
he tried to bull his mad way over it, lay the mastodon.

Something crawled across the ground toward them, its spitting,
snarling mouth gaping in the firelight, its back broken, hind legs
trailing.

Calmly, without a word, Adams put a bullet into the head of the
saber-tooth.

V

General Leslie Bowers rose f