ere, some of them
tending a blazing windrow of branches arranged in a large circle to
encompass a considerable section of open ground where were heaped
several mounds of supplies. Others were preparing the evening meal,
bringing water from the river and performing the other duties which go
with establishing camp for the night.

It was the scent of these men that had brought Sadu here. Ordinarily he
would have passed up the two-legged creatures for the more satisfactory
flesh of zebra or deer, but there had been an absence of such meat
lately because grass-replenishing rain had not fallen in many moons and
the grass-eaters had strayed away from the vicinity in search of fresh
pastures. Too, Sadu had found man easy prey when he was alone--in
numbers he was dangerous, particularly when backed by burning brands and
sharp-pointed sticks.

The circle of fire with which these men had surrounded themselves gave
Sadu pause. Only the pangs of hunger kept him from turning about and
seeking less complicated prey. Slowly the heavy lips rolled back, baring
the great fangs, and from the depths of the cavernous chest came a
series of grunting coughs.

As the dull, rumbling challenge reached the ears of those within the
camp, men straightened from their tasks and looked fearfully into the
heavy darkness beyond the light from the fires. A few unslung their bows
and tested the strings, while others made sure their heavy war spears
were within reach.

In the center of the camp itself, a group of five people--two girls and
three men--broke off their conversation as the first notes of Sadu's
voice reached them, and looked nervously at one another.

"Sadu is hungry too," one of the girls observed lightly as she turned
her attention back to the freshly grilled meat on the clay dish before
her.

"Will he attack us?" the other girl asked unsteadily, her dark eyes
round with fear. Her slender, softly rounded body was covered with a
knee-length tunic of some coarse, woven material and a cloud of black
curls framed the delicate features of her olive-skinned face.

"I do not think so, Alurna," the first girl said, without taking her
eyes from her food. "Sadu fears fire; he would have to be close to
starving to brave the flames."

One of the three men, a slight, small-boned man whose round,
full-fleshed face habitually wore an expression of slow-witted
amiability, moved a little closer to the fire. "How do we know," he said
anxiously, "whe