Now the _Malya_ chief leaned forward across the rim, a long fighting knife in his hand. His deep-set eyes gleamed anticipation. "You are the first, Earthman ... you and this knife against a _zanth_!" Boldly, Shane met the chieftain's stare. "And if I win--?" For the fraction of a second a sort of dull, throbbing silence seemed to fall over the crowd. Then it broke in a gale of wild, tumultuous laughter, echoing and re-echoing upward to the stars. "If you win--?" the _Malya_ chieftain choked. "Have you stayed too long in the sun of Mercury, _chitza_? No man has ever come out of the pit over a _zanth_." "What holds for other men is not for me. I asked: what if I win?" * * * * * Admiration showed in the _Malya's_ dark face. "If you fight as boldly as you talk--small wonder that the _Chonyas_ made you _gar_!" And then: "If you win, you'll live--but here, on Amara, forever a slave." "I ask no more," Shane came back coldly. Again his blue eyes swept the crowd, the sparkling night of a thousand stars. For a moment his gaze lingered on Talu, catching the fever in her eyes, the tension carved in every line. The noise of the shouting horde above beat down upon him. The fetid stench of the _zanth_ came to his nostrils from the tunnel-chute. "Your weapon, Earthman!" cried the _Malya_ chief, and threw it down. "Keeper, prepare to loose the _zanth_!" In one swift motion, Shane swept up the knife. Then, quickly, he moved to the shadows along the wall of the pit, out of the smoky torches' flickering glare. In the tunnel, the _zanth_ roared thunderously. Shane caught a glimpse of the panic on Kyrsis' pale face, where she sat in the prisoners' cage; of the fear that crawled in Quos Reggar's great lobed eyes. Overhead, the _Malya_ chieftain cried, "Turn loose the _zanth_!" The heavy-grilled gate at the tunnel mouth swung up. In the blackness beyond, the _zanth's_ eyes burned like coals of fire. Again it roared, and then again. Then, slowly, it came forward, out into the pit, there to stand for a moment, blinking against the glare. Shane sucked in air. This _zanth_ was big, bigger than any he had ever seen ... well over twenty feet. The murderous, serrated tail alone measured at least seven, and the great jaws were of a size to snap a man in two in a single bite. Its scales were big as dinner plates, and as thick, horny with age. Spurs and claws gleamed in the torchlight like curved knives. Then the great, ringed nostrils flared as the creature scented Shane. The spiked diamond head came round, twisting and turning on the monstrous, snake-like neck; darting and probing to the full five feet of its length. The stink of its breath swept over the Earthman in a nauseous wave. Shane stood very still. But already the _zanth_ was turning. The bulging eyes gleamed redly, searching for him. The knife-haft was slippery in Shane's hand. A rill of sweat crept down his spine.