handle which he had made for himself. The woman who walked beside him
and carried his spears was the daughter of Glav and Olva; in a net-bag
on her back she carried their infant child. The first Tareeshan born of
Tareeshan parents; Kalvar Dard often looked at his little grandchild
during nights in camp and days on the trail, seeing, in that tiny
fur-swaddled morsel of humanity, the meaning and purpose of 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