Horrified, Stellara looked about her for a rock or a stick with which to come to the succor of her champion, but before she had found one she realized that he needed no outside assistance. With a single Herculean movement he tore himself loose from Bohar and leaped to his feet. Instantly the Korsar sprang to an upright position and lowering his head he charged the Sarian—charged like a mad bull. Now Tanar was fighting with cool calculation. The blood-madness of the first moment following the sight of Stellara in the choking murderous fingers of the Korsar had passed. He awaited Bohar’s rush, and as they came together he clamped an arm around the Korsar’s head, and, turning swiftly, hurled the man over his shoulder and heavily to the ground. Then he waited. Once more Bohar, shaking his head, staggered to his feet. Once more he rushed the Sarian, and once more that deadly arm was locked about his head, and once more he was hurled heavily to the ground. This time he did not arise so quickly nor so easily. He came up staggering and feeling of his head and neck. “Prepare to die,” growled Tanar. “For the suffering you have inflicted upon Stellara you are about to die.” With a shriek of mingled rage and fright Bohar, gone mad, charged the Sarian again, and for the third time his great body flew through the air, to alight heavily upon the hard ground, but this time it did not arise; it did not stir, for Bohar the Bloody lay dead with a broken neck. For a moment Tanar of Pellucidar stood ready over the body of his fallen foe, but when he realized that Bohar was dead he turned away with a sneer of disgust. Before him stood Stellara, her beautiful eyes filled with incredulity and with happiness. “Tanar!” It was only a whisper, but it carried to him a world of meaning that sent thrill after thrill through his body. “Stellara!” he cried, as he took the girl in his arms. “Stellara, I love you.” Her soft arms stole around his neck and drew his face to hers. His mouth covered her mouth in a long kiss, and, as he raised his face to look down into hers, from her parted lips burst a single exclamation, “Oh God!” and from the depth of her half-closed eyes burned a love beyond all understanding. “My mate,” he cried, as he pressed her form to him. “My mate,” breathed Stellara, “while life remains in my body and after life, throughout death, forever!” Suddenly she looked up and drew away. “Who is that, Tanar?” she asked. As Tanar turned to look in the direction indicated by the girl he saw Jude emerging from the forest at the upper end of the glade. “It is Jude,” he said to Stellara, “who escaped with me from the country of the Buried People.” Jude approached them, his sullen countenance clouded by its habitual scowl. “He frightens me,” said Stellara, pressing closer to Tanar. “You need not fear him,” said the Sarian. “He is always scowling and unhappy; but he is my friend and even if he were not he is harmless.”