He slept that night upon a pile of furs in one of the compartments
of Om-at's ancestral cave, and early the next day following the
morning meal they sallied forth, a hundred savage warriors swarming
up the face of the sheer cliff and out upon the summit of the ridge,
the main body preceded by two warriors whose duties coincided with
those of the point of modern military maneuvers, safeguarding the
column against the danger of too sudden contact with the enemy.
Across the ridge they went and down into the Kor-ul-lul and there
almost immediately they came upon a lone and unarmed Waz-don who
was making his way fearfully up the gorge toward the village of
his tribe. Him they took prisoner which, strangely, only added to
his terror since from the moment that he had seen them and realized
that escape was impossible, he had expected to be slain immediately.
"Take him back to Kor-ul-ja," said Om-at, to one of his warriors,
"and hold him there unharmed until I return."
And so the puzzled Kor-ul-lul was led away while the savage company
moved stealthily from tree to tree in its closer advance upon the
village. Fortune smiled upon Om-at in that it gave him quickly what
he sought--a battle royal, for they had not yet come in sight of
the caves of the Kor-ul-lul when they encountered a considerable
band of warriors headed down the gorge upon some expedition.
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