Fleeter of foot than most of the Cave women was Laugh, but the fall of snow had not been light and she was not as strong and tireless for such hampered run as were the angry ones pursuing her. They gained upon her almost from the first, and her flight became more straining, though she did not falter. Bravely, if even gaspingly, she ran, but when she attained the slope which led upward to the awaiting shelter the rushing Wolf was scarce a dozen yards behind, though here on the wind-swept ascent the snow became lighter and Laugh almost held her own. Then she did what alone saved her. She yelled as only a Cave woman can yell, which meant much, and Six Toes, leaping to the porthole, saw it all. He rushed to the cave entrance, I at his heels. It was a close finish--there could be no doubt of that. Wolf’s final swift rush told as they neared the cave, as with outstretched hand he almost succeeded in clutching the fleeing girl as she dived into the opening of the cave. Six Toes caught her in his arms as she came, and I sent an arrow whistling outward, but Six Toes was in my way and Wolf leaped aside unhurt. Then came a few moments’ pause. Laugh was safe within the cave. Wolf and his followers, who had by this time joined him, were gathered just aside from the entrance in noisy council. We waited alert and hungrily, for we knew that our time of vengeance was at hand, I guarding the cave opening, Six Toes at the porthole on the left. As they conferred excitedly the party of Wolf moved farther to the side and I crept nearer and nearer to the mouth of the cave. I knew there would be happenings. Then I heard the voices moving more to the side and ran back into the cave again and looked over Six Toes’ shoulder. Suddenly the men outside moved again, and there, now they stood, not six yards from the point of Six Toes’ arrow, Wolf, with his broad back to it, waving his arms and commanding violently. Never was fairer mark offered a Cave man and never a deadly opportunity seized upon more eagerly. Slowly Six Toes drew the long shaft backward until the stone head touched the great bow, which creaked and groaned beneath the strain; then he released it! There was a tearing thud; Wolf threw up his hands and stood wavering there with a short length of the knotted wood jutting from his back. For a moment he swayed and trembled, and then pitched forward as dead as the deer and the little wild horse stored beside us in the cave. With a yell of terror his followers started up the valley and I bounded out from the cave and sent an arrow after them as they ran. I could hear the “thut” and one of them began to run waveringly and laggardly. It was a fine shot.