Mord’s band lived not far from Clag’s tribe. This group also dwelled in caves, although smaller ones. Their leader was a strong warrior. He ruled his men with an iron hand as did all leaders in that country. Only by the power of his arm was he ruler, and to show weakness was to invite being dethroned.
Mord was sitting underneath a large, fernlike tree when one of his warriors came running in, out of breath, his eyes wide. “Mord,” he gasped, “your son. They have him.”
Mord knew that his son Ral had gone hunting with this man. He got to his feet quickly. He lived in a violent world and expected bad news. “Where is he, Roni?” he demanded.
“We went far—close to Clag’s country. We chase game very far.”
“What of Ral?”
Roni was a smallish man, fleet of foot. He had little, close-set black eyes. “Clag’s men catch him.”
A fleeting emotion swept over the face of the gigantic warrior chief. He had had three sons, but two of them had died young. Now his tall, blue-eyed son with the same reddish hair he himself had was the pride of his heart. He glared at Roni without a word, then asked, “They kill?”
“No,” Roni said. “They take away.”
A look of hope came into Mord’s face. He was not only a powerful man but was by far the most quick-witted of the entire tribe. “Come. We get every warrior.”
Roni stared at his chief. “We go fight Clag?”
“Yes! We go get Ral.”
Eena was fascinated by the captive, Ral. She affected to pay no attention to him for a time, yet when the others ate and he was offered nothing, she picked up a piece of charred meat and strolled toward him. He was tied by the ankle to a tree and guarded by Raddy, who sat holding his ax, watching every move the young man made.
“Here!” Eena said loftily. She tossed the meat at the young man. It fell on the stony ground, and he ignored it. His attitude angered her. “You no eat?”
Ral turned his eyes toward her. His auburn hair had a slight curl, and it hung down his back, bound by a single piece of leather. He was large, like his father, and his body was sleek with powerful muscles. Still ignoring the meat, he stared at her.
Eena was provoked. “You no eat, you starve.”
Ral looked at the meat, then back at her. “You kill anyway.” And then he seemed curious again. “Why you no let witch doctor kill? Me your enemy.”
Eena had no answer. She was the child of a bloodthirsty race and had seen men die before. She herself did not understand why she had stopped Grak from ripping the young man’s heart from his chest. Something about her act troubled her. It was as if doing a kindness was something she did not comprehend. She turned to go, then wheeled to face him. “You Ral, son of Mord.”
“Yes.”
“I Eena, daughter of Clag.”
As the two stared at each other curiously, some of the hostility seemed to leave him. He looked down at the meat and then shrugged. “Hungry,” he said and picked it up. Using his strong white teeth, he chewed it. “Good,” he said.
“That beast Lom killed. He good hunter.”
The tall young warrior gazed at her admiringly. “Lom your mate?” he asked, tearing off another mouthful of meat.
Eena hesitated. “No. Someday. Not yet.”
Ral’s eyes flickered over the girl’s dark hair, golden skin, trim form. “You skinny.” Perhaps he wanted to make no kind remarks to enemies.
Eena’s eyes flashed. She glowered at him and said, “You have big fat mate.”
Ral laughed at that. “No. No mate. Not yet.”
After a moment she asked, “You thirsty?”
“Yes.”
Eena looked over at Raddy. “Go get water.”
Raddy appeared insulted that a woman—even the chief’s daughter—would tell him what to do. “No,” he grunted.
“Then let him go to river and drink.”
“No! He get away.” He looked sullenly at the girl, then turned his eyes on his enemy. “He die yet. We give him to Greska.”
Eena said, “I get water.”
She soon came back bearing a cup made from a gourd, filled with clear water.
Ral drank thirstily. Then he handed back the gourd, saying, “Good.”
Eena knew she should leave, but she sat down on a nearby stone anyway. “Tell me what it like where you are.”
Ral was obviously surprised to be asked, but he began to tell a little of what his life was like. It was simple like her own, and Eena was astonished that there was so little difference between them. She had thought from the stories she had heard of this tribe that they were all little better than dinosaurs. And yet this young man seemed to be … well … rather nice!
They were interrupted when Lom strode up, war club in hand. He frowned at Ral and then faced Eena. “What he say?”
“He tell about his people.” Eena shrugged. “They same as us.”
“They enemy.” He shook his ax at Ral, his lips drawn back from his teeth. “We enemy. We fight.”
Ral said nothing, but he showed no sign of fear.
Lom was about to speak again when apparently something in the forest caught his attention. He had the alertness of a great cat, and one look seemed to tell him that the worst had happened. He let out a tremendous yell. “Enemy! Enemy!”
Eena jumped to her feet and saw, breaking out of the woods, a group of strange warriors armed with clubs and axes. Instantly she understood. It was Chief Mord come to save his son!
Lom’s yell alerted Clag’s tribe, and warriors poured down from the cave.
The Sleepers were at the river when they heard shouting.
Josh lifted his head. “What’s that?”
“Sounds like trouble,” Reb answered. “Come on!” He started up the path at a dead run, and the others followed.
As they approached the base of the cliff, they heard yells and grunts and screams.
“I think the war’s started,” Dave said, “and it didn’t take arrows to do it either!”
They rounded a huge rock, and he saw a pitched battle going on.
“Look! Some of Chief Clag’s men are down,” Jake yelled. “We’ve got to help ’em.”
But the youngsters’ help was not needed. The attacking warriors were soon overwhelmed by Clag’s fierce little band and were forced to retreat.
Lom, however, was being half carried by three of his friends. He’d taken a blow to the head and was dazed. Blood streamed down his face. “Eena!” he gasped. “Eena.”
Dave caught a glimpse of the invaders disappearing into the forest, and he understood. “They’ve got Eena!” he yelled. He started to run, but a rope settled over his arms, and he was yanked to a stop. He whirled to see Reb. “Let me go, you crazy cowboy! We’ve got to save her!”
Reb held him tight. “We’ve got to do that all right. But you’re not going to do it alone. They’d have both of you if you go.”
“That’s right, Dave,” Josh said, “we’ve got to get organized.”
“Who were they, Lom?” Sarah demanded. Her eyes were wide with fear.
Lom wiped the blood from his face and tried to stand. He staggered a little. “Mord—his men. They take Eena. They try get Ral.”
Dave looked quickly. Ral was still tied to the tree trunk.
He had seen his father’s men burst into the open, Ral said, and thought he would be rescued. But Raddy had knocked him to the ground with the flat of his ax. By the time he recovered, the raid was over and his tribesmen driven off.
Clag had been out on a hunt. When he returned an hour later and heard of the raid, his face clouded over. “They take Eena?” He walked over to Ral and shook his ax in his prisoner’s face. “We kill you!”
“Don’t do that!” Dave called out.
“Yes, we kill,” Clag said.
But Dave began to talk rapidly. “Look, Chief, they’ve got your daughter, but you’ve got his son. All we’ve got to do is go tell them we want to swap.”
“Swap? What is swap?”
“It means we’ll give them him—” he pointed to Ral “—and they’ll give us Eena. That way you’ll both get something.”
Such an idea obviously had never occurred to Clag. His tribe was so fiercely independent they had nothing to do with Mord’s band and were fearful of any strangers. The thought of even speaking to them was foreign to him.
But Dave continued to talk, and finally Beno came over. He appeared to be the one man that Clag would listen to. He was no hunter, but he was smart.
“Yes, Chief Clag. Dave right. He want son back— you want Eena back. We go to them.”
Clag stared. “If we go, they kill us.”
That was when Lom stepped forth. “Let him go,” he said angrily, pointing at Dave. “Let him talk to Mord.”
“They’d kill you, Dave,” Sarah said quickly.
But Dave knew that he had no choice. He stared toward the forest where Mord’s band had disappeared and then back at Clag. “All right,” he said, “I’ll go, Chief, but I want your word. If Mord gives us Eena, you’ll give them Ral.”
When Beno explained to the chief what Dave meant, Clag nodded slowly. “Yes, we give him for Eena.”
“Good,” Dave said. And now he tried to conceal that he was frightened. “Josh, you’ll be in charge while I’m gone.” He hesitated. “If I—if I don’t get back, you’ll know I gave it my best shot.”
The Sleepers watched Dave walk swiftly away toward the wall of trees. When he disappeared, Josh said, “Well, it looks like Dave’s the leader after all. I don’t know if I’d have the nerve to do that.”