all that he
did. Of the older girls, one or two were already pregnant, now; this
tiny threatened beachhead of humanity was expanding, gaining strength.
Long after man had died out on Doorsha and the dying planet itself had
become an arid waste, the progeny of this little band would continue to
grow and to dominate the younger planet, nearer the sun. Some day, an
even mightier civilization than the one he had left would rise here....

* * * * *

All day the trail had wound upward into the mountains. Great cliffs
loomed above them, and little streams spumed and dashed in rocky gorges
below. All day, the Hairy People had followed, fearful to approach too
close, unwilling to allow their enemies to escape. It had started when
they had rushed the camp, at daybreak; they had been beaten off, at cost
of almost all the ammunition, and the death of one child. No sooner had
the tribe of Kalvar Dard taken the trail, however, than they had been
pressing after them. Dard had determined to cross the mountains, and had
led his people up a game-trail, leading toward the notch of a pass high
against the skyline.

The shaggy ape-things seemed to have divined his purpose. Once or
twice, he had seen hairy brown shapes dodging among the rocks and
stunted trees to the left. They were trying to reach the pass ahead of
him. Well, if they did.... He made a quick mental survey of his
resources. His pistol, and his son's, and Dorita's, with eight, and six,
and seven rounds. One grenade, and the big demolition bomb, too powerful
to be thrown by hand, but which could be set for delayed explosion and
dropped over a cliff or left behind to explode among pursuers. Five
steel daggers, and plenty of spears and slings and axes. Himself, his
son and his son's woman, Dorita, and four or five of the older boys and
girls, who would make effective front-line fighters. And Varnis, who
might come out of her private dream-world long enough to give account
for herself, and even the tiniest of the walking children could throw
stones or light spears. Yes, they could force the pass, if the Hairy
People reached it ahead of them, and then seal it shut with the heavy
bomb. What lay on the other side, he did not know; he wondered how much
game there would be, and if there were Hairy People on that side, too.

Two shots slammed quickly behind him. He dropped his axe and took a
two-hand grip on his stabbing-spear as he turned. His son was