maiden, for protection. And I am Ka-nanu," he added, in a different tone; "do not resist me too far, or I will teach you obedience."
A-æa knew somewhat of the man’s ruthless nature. Many of the tribal girls looked with favor on Ka-nanu, for he was bigger and taller even than Ga-nor, and more handsome in a reckless, cruel way. But A-æa loved Ga-nor and she was afraid of Ka-nanu. Her very fear of him kept her from resisting his approaches too much. Ga-nor was known to be gentle with women, if careless of them, while Ka-nanu, thereby showing himself to be another mark of progress, was proud of his success with women and used his power over them in no gentle fashion.
A-æa found Ka-nanu was to be feared more than a beast, for at the spring just out of sight of the caves, he seized her in his arms.
"A-æa," he whispered, "my little antelope, I have you at last. You shall not escape me."
In vain she struggled and pleaded with him. Lifting her in his mighty arms he strode away into the forest.
Frantically she strove to escape, to dissuade him.
"I am not powerful enough to resist you," she said, "but I will accuse you before the tribe."
"You will never accuse me, little antelope," he said, and she read another, even more sinister intention in his cruel countenance.
On and on into the forest he carried her, and in the midst of a glade he paused, his hunter’s instinct alert.
From the trees in front of them dropped a hideous monster, a hairy, misshapen, frightful thing.
A-æa’s scream re-echoed through the forest, as the thing approached. Ka-nanu, white-lipped and horrified, dropped A-æa to the ground and told her to run. Then, drawing knife and ax, he advanced.
The Neandertal man plunged forward on short, gnarled legs. He was covered with hair and his features were more hideous than an ape's because of the grotesque quality of the man in them. Flat, flaring nostrils, retreating chin, fangs, no forehead whatever, great, immensely long arms dangling from sloping, incredible shoulders, the monster seemed like the devil himself to the terrified girl. His apelike head came scarcely to Ka-nanu’s shoulders, yet he must have outweighed the warrior by nearly a hundred pounds.
On he came like a charging buffalo, and Ka-nanu met him squarely and boldly. With flint ax and obsidian dagger he thrust and smote, but the ax was brushed aside like a toy and the arm that held the knife snapped like a stick in the misshapen hand of the Neandertaler. The girl saw the councilor’s son wrenched from the ground and swung into the air, saw him hurled clear across the glade, saw the monster leap after him and rend him limb from limb.
Then the Neandertaler turned his attention to her. A new expression came into his hideous eyes as he lumbered toward her, his great hairy hands horridly smeared with blood, reaching toward her.
Unable to flee, she lay dizzy with horror and fear. And the monster dragged her to him, leering into her eyes. He swung her over his shoulder and waddled away through the trees; and the girl, half-fainting, knew that he was taking her to his lair, where no man would dare come to rescue her.
Ga-nor came down to the spring to drink. Idly he noticed the faint footprints of a couple who had come before him. Idly he noticed that they had not returned.
Each footprint has its individual characteristic. That of the man he knew to be Ka-nanu. The other track
