The master of the Games ran a thoughtful eye over the Cro-Magnard's splendid body.

"Give him a hunting-knife--and nothing else," he said finally. "So far this man has had an easy time of it. Now we shall learn just how much of a fighter he really is!"

Silently the guard presented a long-bladed knife of flint.

Once more the arena door opened; and Tharn, blade in hand, strode into the amphitheater.

The shrill cacophony which greeted him held a welcoming note that did not escape the young Tharn. For the first time, he raised his eyes to the innumerable tiers, observing with wonder the mammoth sea of faces turned in his direction. Near the arena wall on his right, and half way to the far end of the arena itself, was that section occupied by Pryak and his numerous retinue. Tharn had no difficulty in picking out the high priest's unimpressive figure seated close to the protecting wall.

The cave-man's reverie was abruptly shattered as the ma.s.sive gate at the enclosure's far end began to swing open. For a moment nothing appeared; then slowly and majestically there emerged from the darkened interior Tharn's arch enemy--Sadu, the lion!

CHAPTER XX

Revolt!

As Sadu, the lion, came into full view, a collective groan rose on the afternoon air. Then came scattered boos and cries of disapproval from various points in the stands.

"Give him arrows and a bow!"

"No man can kill a lion with a knife!"

"Death to Pryak!" shouted some more hardy soul.

Scattered protests began to gather volume until they beat as a steady roar, filling the entire arena with ominous sound. Armed priests, stationed at the upper edge of the retaining wall, began to move uneasily among the seats to restore order.

Suddenly the mounting crescendo stilled, as action on the arena sands seemed imminent.

Sunlight, flooding the huge oval, bathed in golden glory the calm figure of the man and the tan coat of the jungle king. With striking clarity it picked out the corded muscles and swelling muscles of this cave-G.o.d. His handsome, finely-shaped head with its crowning mop of straight black hair; his shoulders, wide and erect; his mighty chest, narrow waist and tapering hips--all made up a picture of physical perfection that no observer was likely to forget.

And yet, invincible though this Cro-Magnard appeared, he seemed puny and pitiable when compared with the huge beast that Wotar had sent against him. Never before had so magnificent a lion appeared in Sephar's Games.

Even Tharn, jungle traveler for most of his life, had blinked disbelievingly when Sadu made his entrance.

Sadu padded gently forward, the lithe sinews of his giant body rolling smoothly beneath a shimmering hide. He seemed unruffled and serene; only the angry lash of his sinuous tail told of a seething ferocity within that lordly head.

Armed only with his painfully inadequate knife, Tharn advanced slowly to meet certain destruction. He knew his chances for victory were so slim as to be almost non-existent; yet the self-confidence and resourcefulness born of a hundred battles against overwhelming odds were weapons more dependable than the flint blade he carried.

Sadu stopped his own advance when the hated man-thing started toward him. For several days now, he had been underfed, goaded about with sharp sticks and shouting voices, hara.s.sed and annoyed until he was angry enough to have charged a regiment. Yet that unfathomable sense of caution, so strong a part of every wild creature, held him motionless before the deliberate approach of this two-legged enemy.

Tharn halted. Only a few paces separated the two as they stood unmoving.

The man's eyes were riveted on the lion's restless tail; by its movements could he know what was taking place in Sadu's brain.

Slowly Sadu settled into a crouching position, head flattened, hindquarters drawn beneath his taut frame, tail twitching in jerky undulations. A vagrant breeze ruffled the thick mane at his neck....

Suddenly the tail stiffened and shot erect; and voicing an ear-shattering roar, Sadu sprang at the man in his path.

Sadu, the lion, had felt man's tender flesh beneath his yellow fangs and murderous talons before this. He expected no more resistance from this one than had come from those others.

It was an astonished beast, therefore, that crashed to the sand where the man had been--and was no longer. With an uncanny agility Tharn evaded that lightning charge; then, so quickly that human eyes were hard put to follow, he leaped in and drove his heavy knife deep behind Sadu's left shoulder.

The jungle king, snarling hideously from unexpected pain and shock, wheeled and struck in one simultaneous motion; but Tharn, leaping high as the great cat turned, vaulted completely over the broad back, the dripping knife still clutched in his hand. Before Sadu could reverse himself, the blade flashed again, striking at the base of the tawny neck where lay the great spine.

The flint bit deep but missed a vital spot by half an inch. Sadu had moved in a rapid sideward maneuver as Tharn's arm was descending, and while the wound that resulted was painful, it was by no means fatal.

Worst of all, the blow had cost the Cro-Magnard his only weapon. Sadu's sudden shift had torn the knife from Tharn's fingers before he could tug it free, leaving the blade sunk deep, haft still standing upright like a miniature cross.

His blood crimsoning the white sands, Sadu whirled about, sending a shower of the fine particles high into the air. Once more he hurled himself at his elusive foe, and once more Tharn dodged aside. But this time his foot slipped a little in the yielding sand. One flailing paw struck his chest a glancing blow, the claws raking long scratches there, and Tharn was catapulted heels over head a full fifteen feet across the arena.

A little murmur of protest came from the ranks of spectators. They had witnessed what had promised to be an ineffectual struggle develop into a battle between giants, with its ultimate outcome very much in doubt.

Now, through a quirk of fate, the grim battle was ended; the favorite they had acclaimed was doomed.

Sadu leaped forward to make his kill.

Tharn, helpless, knew life had run its course. Nothing could save him now.

And then fickle fate shifted once more. Tharn's right hand, pressing against the ground in a last futile effort to throw himself to one side, closed purely by chance about a hard object which he instantly identified as the hilt of a stone knife, dropped there, doubtless, by some warrior earlier in the day.

Recognition and action came together. Tharn raised the weapon, hilt between thumb and bent forefinger, and, while still in a sitting position, flung it with all the concentrated strength of his powerful arm point foremost at the on-rushing bulk.

As in a dream he saw the sliver of flint streak through the sunlight to meet the great head. Full into Sadu's right eye sank its entire length; then a crushing weight came down on Tharn's chest and he knew no more.

He could not have been unconscious for long; for his eyes opened in time to see Sadu's lifeless body being dragged away. Two guards were standing over his own supine figure, evidently seeking to learn the extent of his injuries.

"He lives!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed one in surprise, as Tharn's eyes fluttered open.

In answer the cave man got unsteadily to his feet, and while the effort sent a spasm of pain through his bruised chest and aching ribs, his face betrayed nothing of his suffering.

Leisurely he brushed sand from his back and legs, then turned and walked toward the western gate. Heedless to the thunder of acclaim beating against his ears, he disappeared through the arms-room door.

Once within the common cell, Tharn told enough of his adventure to dull the prisoners' curiosity, then edged away to join Katon.

Thus the day wore on. Now and then guards would enter, pick out a man or two and depart. Once, Brutan came back from the arena with his left cheek laid open from an animal's claw. But the wound had dulled no part of his braggardism and he told a highly colored tale of an encounter against nearly impossible odds.

Later in that afternoon, Katon had been summoned, to be absent for what seemed an age to Tharn. But return he did, unscathed, a broad smile lighting up his face as the cave lord came forward to welcome him.

A bond of friendship, based on mutual respect and admiration, had formed between these two men; a bond which pa.s.sing days but served to augment.

It was destined to be that rare understanding known only between men, wherein each finds within the other something of himself.

Just before the day's end, Brosan went out, a quip on his lips and a careless wave of his hand to the others. That joking remark and carefree gesture remained with every man in the cell, for Brosan never came back....

Darkness came at last, and for a second time the roaring of beasts and shrieks and moans of dying men ceased in the oval above. Food was brought and the weary gladiators ate and drank, doing their best to forget tiredness and strain.