and brothers returned to their cave, she might risk it; but not
now--not now. Nor could she for long remain here in the neighborhood
of the hostile Kor-ul-lul and somewhere she must find safety from
beasts before the night set in.

As she sat upon the bole of a fallen tree seeking some solution
of the problem of existence that confronted her, there broke upon
her ears from up the gorge the voices of shouting men--a sound that
she recognized all too well. It was the war cry of the Kor-ul-lul.
Closer and closer it approached her hiding place. Then, through
the veil of foliage she caught glimpses of three figures fleeing
along the trail, and behind them the shouting of the pursuers rose
louder and louder as they neared her. Again she caught sight of
the fugitives crossing the river below the cataract and again they
were lost to sight. And now the pursuers came into view--shouting
Kor-ul-lul warriors, fierce and implacable. Forty, perhaps fifty
of them. She waited breathless; but they did not swerve from the
trail and passed her, unguessing that an enemy she lay hid within
a few yards of them.

Once again she caught sight of the pursued--three Waz-don warriors
clambering the cliff face at a point where portions of the summit
had fallen away presenting a steep slope that might be ascended by
such as these. Suddenly her attention was riveted upon the three.
Could it be? O Jad-ben-Otho! had she but known a moment before. When
they passed she might have joined them, for they were her father
and two brothers. Now it was too late. With bated breath and tense
muscles she watched the race. Would they reach the summit? Would the
Kor-ul-lul overhaul them? They climbed well, but, oh, so slowly.
Now one lost his footing in the loose shale and slipped back!