for it would apprise the prey of his whereabouts and would give them
time to escape to the security of their hiding-places. So the youth was
on his guard during the periods of silence and slept when the roars were
most frequent, for then the danger was least.

With the passing days the drought grew more terrible. If Choflo's words
were true, and Oomah was to save the earth by slaying the Black Phantom,
he must act soon or Tumwah's work would be too far advanced for remedy.
He could do no more than he was doing. Yaro had even hinted, in furtive
whispers, that the combat between the Phantom and the God of Drought
was a fabrication of Choflo's mind, simply another explanation of
something the sorcerer did not understand added to the several he had
already given. Still, he did not know whose words were to be heeded; and
added to his doubt was the lack of understanding of why the Black
Phantom did not attack him. It seemed always to be following him in
accordance with some mysterious design, or to be luring him onward like
a will-o'-the-wisp, further and further into a strange and more hostile
wilderness.

The youth's disturbed state of mind, coupled with the meager amount of
food now obtainable and the fatigue of the long tramps so undermined his
strength that he fell an easy victim to the dread fever to which, in his
normal, robust condition he was immune.

With throbbing head and blurred eyes he moved painfully through the
forest and over the sandy riverbank. On those rare occasions when he saw
game his arms trembled so violently as he drew the bow that the arrow
went wide and fell far short of the mark.

Choflo had guessed well. He was sure that the Black Phantom would prove
too elusive or too savage for any human pursuer, and that he should
never see Oomah again. In both things he was right. Oomah was destined
to be robbed of his prize and the sorcerer had beheld the youth for the
last time. But despite these facts, the designing purveyor of magic had
been also totally mistaken in his calculations. For, while both of his
hopes were realized they, at the same time, strange as it may seem, were
doomed to failure.

The terrible fever fast gained on the unfortunate hunter, racking his
body and adding physical torture to his mental anguish. Still he
struggled to overcome the insurmountable obstacles in his way. But,
while a firm resolve may do many things there is also a limit to all
things, and there came a day when Oo