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As he led the tribe down to the river in the dim light of dawn, Cha-Ka paused uncertainly at a familiar spot. Something, he knew, was missing; but what it was, he couldn't remember. He wasted no mental effort upon the problem, for this morning he had more important matters on his mind.359Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2zhXfOx68l
Like thunder, lightning, clouds and solar eclipses, the great golden Pylon had departed as mysteriously as it had come. Having vanished into the nonexistent past, it never troubled Cha-Ka's thoughts again.
He would never know what it had done to him; and none of his companions wondered, as they gathered round him in the morning mist, why heh had paused for a moment here on the way to the river.
From their side of the stream, in the never-violated safety of their own territory, the Others first saw Cha-Ka and twelve males of his tribe as a moving frieze against the dawn sky. At once they started to scream their daily challenge; but this time there was no answer.
Steadily, purposefully---above all, silently---Cha-Ka and his band descended the low hillock that overlooked the river; and as they approached, the Others became suddenly quiet. Their ritual rage ebbed away, to be replaced by mounting fear. They were dimly aware that something had happened, and that this encounter was unlike all those that had ever gone before.
The bone clubs and knives that Cha-Ka's group carried did not alarm them, for they did not understand their purpose. They only knew that their rivals' movements were now imbued with determination, and with menace.
The party stopped at the water's edge, and for a moment the Others' courage revived. Led by One-Ear, they halfheartedly resumed their fighting chant. It lasted only a few seconds before a vision of horror struck them numb.
Cha-Ka raised his arms high into the air, revealing the burden that until now had been hidden by the hirsute bodies of his companions. He was holding a stout branch, and impaled upon it was the bloody head of the jaguar. The mouth had been jammed open with a stick, and the great fangs gleamed a ghastly white in the first rays of the rising sun.
Most of the Others were too stunned with fright to move; but some started a slow, stumbling retreat. That was all the encouragement that Cha-Ka needed. Still holding the mangled trophy above his head, he began to cross the stream. After a moment's hesitation, his companions splashed after him.359Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzOUM3EuF53
When Cha-Ka reached the far side, One-Ear was still standing his ground. Maybe he was too brave or too dumb to run; maybe he could not really accept that this outrage was really happening. Coward or hero, it made no difference in the end, as the frozen snarl of death came crashing down upon his uncomprehending head.359Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsECjr8b6YN
Shrieking with fright, the Others scattered into the bush; but presently they would return, and soon they would forget their fallen leader.
For a few seconds Cha-Ka stood uncertainly above his new victim, trying to grasp the strange but wonderful fact that the dead jaguar could kill again. Now he was master of the world, and he was not quite sure what to do next.359Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Eoha2lyof
Well, eventually he would think of something to do.359Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡG9OrQYJV9I
