ngly sharp. Each head was fitted snugly into a deep groove,
packed about with a clay-like substance and hardened by fire until
nearly impossible to loosen. Near the butt of each arrow a thin rounded
bit of wood had been inserted to guide its flight.

Bordering the trail some fifty paces ahead, stood a small tree. During
some recent storm a lightning bolt had torn a jagged streak in its bole,
close to the ground, leaving a strip of white wood gleaming in the sun.

Partly through accident and partly by clear reasoning, Tharn drew the
bow with the finished technique of a veteran archer. His left arm,
stiffly extended, pointed straight at the selected mark; his right hand,
fingers hooked about the string, came smoothly back to a point just
below the lobe of his right ear.

There sounded a singing "twang" and a polished bolt flashed in the
sunlight, passed the tree's bole by a good foot and disappeared into the
foliage.

Tharn ruefully rubbed an angry welt on his left wrist where the
bowstring had stung him. He understood, now, why many of Sephar's
warriors wore wristbands.

With his knife he hacked off a strip of his loin cloth. This he bound
about his left wrist, then took up the bow, his chin set in determined
lines.

On his third attempt he hit the mark, sending an arrowhead deep into the
center of the white patch.

The cave-man all but shouted aloud. Lovingly he ran his palms over the
black wood. No matter what he had suffered at Sepharian hands, they had
repaid many times over by disclosing to him the power in a gut-strung
branch. Now in truth was he lord of the jungle! He pictured Sadu dead, a
few well-placed arrows in his carcass. And shaggy-coated Conta, the
cave-bear; of what protection his tough hide against such keen-tipped
shafts?

Clearly, Tharn had forgotten the mission that had sent him into the
jungle. Everything ceased to exist for him except the bow in his hands
and the quiver of arrows at his back. Although he continued on toward
the west, his progress was slow and uncertain; for the cave-man was
determined to become an expert bowman without delay.

* * * * *

At first he was content to use nothing more difficult than tree trunks
as targets; but as he increased in skill his ambition led him to seek
more difficult marks.

Nobar, the monkey, industriously occupied in searching the hairs on his
belly for dried bits of dead skin, almost fell from his perch in frigh