Some said that Jad-ben-Otho, who
has lived forever, was still a little boy. Pan-at-lee shuddered;
but there were caves and in them she would be safe even from the
gryfs.
She found a place where the stone pegs reached to the very summit
of the cliff, left there no doubt in the final exodus of the tribe
when there was no longer need of safeguarding the deserted caves
against invasion. Pan-at-lee clambered slowly down toward the
uppermost cave. She found the recess in front of the doorway almost
identical with those of her own tribe. The floor of it, though,
was littered with twigs and old nests and the droppings of birds,
until it was half choked. She moved along to another recess and
still another, but all were alike in the accumulated filth. Evidently
there was no need in looking further. This one seemed large and
commodious. With her knife she fell to work cleaning away the debris
by the simple expedient of pushing it over the edge, and always
her eyes turned constantly toward the silent gorge where lurked the
fearsome creatures of Pal-ul-don. And other eyes there were, eyes
she did not see, but that saw her and watched her every move--fierce
eyes, greedy eyes, cunning and cruel. They watched her, and a
red tongue licked flabby, pendulous lips. They watched her, and a
half-human brain laboriously evolved a brutish design.
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