"He is in there," she said--and as she spoke she unslung her hunting bow, slipped a bone-tipped arrow from her quiver. She stepped to the mouth of the crevice, drew aim. Then-- "Wait, Golden One!" Daiv swept the weapon from her hands. He looked down into the pit, cried out sharply, then, ignoring Meg's warning, lowered himself into it. A moment later he was back again, slipping his burden from his shoulder. His burden was, as Meg had guessed, a brutish, hairy Man-thing; foul with the stench of unwashed sweat and grease, grimy with blood and dirt. "You were going to kill him!" Daiv accused sternly. "He is a Man, wounded, and you were going to kill him!" The priestess said haughtily, "He is not a Man, he is one of the Wild Ones. Of course I was going to kill him. That is the Law." "It is a poor Law," grunted Daiv. He was bending over the Wild One now, cleaning his wounds with handfuls of clean, dried grass. "If the Women of your tribe build traps like these for Men, I'm not sure I want to meet them. Aagh! False tops, and sharpened sticks beneath!" Meg the Priestess disappeared, and in her place stood Meg the wife, a look of bafflement in her eyes. "But, Daiv--" Faintly. "You killed one of the Wild Ones yourself. The first time we met." "That," said Daiv curtly, "was because he tried to linber you. I wanted you for myself. There--he's coming around now. How do you feel, Man? Are you all right?" The Wild One's eyes were uncomprehending as they saw the golden-limbed priestess and this strange, hairless Man before him. His bearded lips parted in a strangled fragment of speech. "I am ... all right." Then, to Daiv alone, "You ... saved my life!" Daiv nodded. Thoughts crawled slowly behind the Wild One's eyes; he reached a decision. From his filthy loin cloth he drew a chipped and rusted blade; this he offered to Daiv. With the other hand he smoothed flat the verminous tangle of hair above his heart. * * * * * "My life is yours, stranger," he said humbly. Meg's eyes were wide with astonishment. From infancy she had been taught that the Wild Ones were mad creatures without mercy, without human sentiments; beasts that prowled the forests with but two thoughts in their minds: to satisfy the hungers of their bellies and to kill. Yet here was a Wild One displaying the civilized emotion of gratitude. To Daiv she said querulously, "He must be crazed, Daiv! Let us take him with us to the village. The tribe Mother will want to see this marvel--a Wild One with a Woman's instincts." "He goes free!" said Daiv. He was still curt. He lifted the Wild One to his feet. "Can you find your fellows, Wild One?" he asked. The Wild One nodded mutely. "Then, go!" ordered Daiv. "And be more careful of traps in the future. Begone!"