"It was you who took him," answered the Chief. "He is yours." He was about to add, "though I can't see what you want of him"; but it was a part of his policy never to seem in doubt or ignorance about anything that another might perhaps know. So, instead, he sternly told his followers to obey the law of the tribe and respect Grom's capture. Then Grom stepped close beside him and said at his ear: "Many things which we need to know will Bawr learn from this fellow presently, as to the dangers which are like to come upon us." At this the Chief, being ready of wit, comprehended Grom's purpose; and, to the amazement of his followers, he looked down upon the hideous prisoner with a smile of satisfaction. "Well have I called you the Chief's Right Hand," he answered. "I shall also have to call you the Chief's Wisdom, for in saving this fellow's life you have shown more forethought than I." The captive's wounds having been dressed with astringent herbs, and his broken leg put into splints in accordance with the rude but not ineffective surgery of the time, he was placed on a rough litter of interlaced branches and carried back by the reluctant warriors to the Caves. None of the warriors were advanced enough to have understood the policy of their leaders, so no effort was made by either the Chief or Grom to explain it. The Chief, doubly secure in his dominance by reason of Grom's loyal support, cared little whether his followers were content or not, and he took no heed of their ill-humor so long as they did not allow it to become articulate. But when, after an hour's sullen tramping, they suddenly grew merry at their task, and fell to marching with a child-like cheer under their repulsive and groaning burden, he was surprised, and made inquiry as to the reason for this sudden complaisance. It turned out that one of the warriors, accounted more discerning than his fellows, had suggested that the captive was to be nursed back to health in order that he might be made an acceptable sacrifice to the Shining One. As this notion seemed to meet with such hearty approval, the wise Chief did not think it worth while to cast any doubt upon it. In fact, as he thought, such a solution might very well arrive, in the end, in case Grom's design should fail to come up to his expectations. To the presence of the hideous and repulsive stranger in her dwelling, A-ya, as was natural, raised warm objection. But when Grom had explained his purpose to her, and the imminence of the peril that threatened, she yielded readily enough, the dread of Mawg being yet vivid in her imagination. She lent herself cheerfully to the duty of caring for the captive's wounds and of helping Grom to teach him the simple speech of the tribe.