"Hooja the Sly One escaped and took the others with him," replied
Ghak. "But there are no more dark places on the way to Phutra,
and once there it is not so easy--the Mahars are very wise. Even
if one escaped from Phutra there are the thipdars--they would find
you, and then--" the Hairy One shuddered. "No, you will never
escape the Mahars."

It was a cheerful prospect. I asked Perry what he thought about
it; but he only shrugged his shoulders and continued a longwinded
prayer he had been at for some time. He was wont to say that the
only redeeming feature of our captivity was the ample time it gave
him for the improvisation of prayers--it was becoming an obsession
with him. The Sagoths had begun to take notice of his habit of
declaiming throughout entire marches. One of them asked him what
he was saying--to whom he was talking. The question gave me an
idea, so I answered quickly before Perry could say anything.

"Do not interrupt him," I said. "He is a very holy man in the world
from which we come. He is speaking to spirits which you cannot
see--do not interrupt him or they will spring out of the air upon
you and rend you limb from limb--like that," and I jumped toward
the great brute with a loud "Boo!" that sent him stumbling backward.

I took a long chance, I realized, but if we could make any capital
out of Perry's harmless mania I wanted to make it while the making
was prime. It worked splendidly. The Sagoths treated us both with
marked respect during the balance of the journey, and then passed
the word along to their masters, the Mahars.