though mine is nearly dead. Do not leave me."

"An-Tak!" Bradley repeated. "You loved a man called An-Tak?"

"Yes," replied the girl. "An-Tak was away, hunting, when the
Wieroo caught me. How he must have grieved for me! He also was
cos-ata-lu, twelve moons older than I, and all our lives we
have been together."

Bradley remained silent. So she loved An-Tak. He hadn't the
heart to tell her that An-Tak had died, or how.

At the door of Fosh-bal-soj's storeroom they halted to listen.
No sound came from within, and gently Bradley pushed open the door.
All was inky darkness as they entered; but presently their eyes
became accustomed to the gloom that was partially relieved by the
soft starlight without. The Englishman searched and found those
things for which he had come--two robes, two pairs of dead wings
and several lengths of fiber rope. One pair of the wings he
adjusted to the girl's shoulders by means of the rope. Then he
draped the robe about her, carrying the cowl over her head.

He heard her gasp of astonishment when she realized the ingenuity
and boldness of his plan; then he directed her to adjust the other
pair of wings and the robe upon him. Working with strong, deft
fingers she soon had the work completed, and the two stepped out
upon the roof, to all intent and purpose genuine Wieroos. Besides his
pistol Bradley carried the sword of the slain Wieroo prophet, while
the girl was armed with the small blade of the red Wieroo.