the meat and, snatching a large piece, began to gnaw it ravenously.

"Are we invited to the feast?" asked Maskull.

Haunte pointed to the hanging flesh and to the liquor skins, but did
not pause in his chewing.

"Where's a cup?" inquired Maskull, lifting one of the skins.

Haunte indicated a clay goblet lying on the floor. Maskull picked it
up, undid the neck of the skin, and, resting it under his arm, filled
the cup. Tasting the liquor, he discovered it to be raw spirit. He
tossed off the draught, and then felt much better.

The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single
sip, swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He
refused to drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull
finished the cup, and began to throw off care.

Going to the meat line, he took down a large double handful, and sat
down on a pile of skins to eat at his ease. The flesh was tough and
coarse, but he had never tasted anything sweeter. He could not
understand the flavour, which was not surprising in a world of
strange animals. The meal proceeded in silence. Corpang ate
sparingly, standing up, and afterward lay down on a bundle of furs.
His bold eyes watched all the movements of the other two. Haunte had
not drunk as yet.

At last Maskull concluded his meal. He emptied another cup, sighed
pleasantly, and prepared to talk.