“Yep,” he went on absently, “ole porky sure did help me out.” Like a great many men, he was talking to himself when alone in the woods. And now, with the smell of meat cooking, for he was hungry and wasted no time in preliminaries, his situation assumed a more normal aspect. Somehow, he felt that this would turn out all right, black as things seemed just now. When a person’s hunger is satisfied, he looks at the world with a clearer, more optimistic vision, and the eating of “porky” worked that sort of miracle for Roy. When his makeshift meal was over, he breathed a sigh of relief, yawned, and stretched lazily. The reaction from the strain he had been under came with a rush, and now, scarcely able to keep his eyes open, the boy threw himself full length on the ground by the river’s edge. For a moment he lay there, his head on his arms, thinking drowsily that he must arouse himself and hunt Teddy. He must keep going, he must not give in. “Can’t let him get lost like that,” Roy muttered, forgetting that he, too, was in trouble. “Good ole Teddy--have to find him.” He pushed himself up with his hands and shook his head wearily, determined to fight off fatigue. But he was so tired--so tired. If he could only sleep-- Above him sounded a rush of wings. A shrill scream sounded almost in his ear, and he felt a fierce, slashing wind surround him. Roy’s heart leaped into his throat, and he awoke now with a terrific jolt, his pulses hammering. Once more the scream sounded. With an effort Roy rolled over. Then, swift as light, he threw up an arm to protect his face. Directly over him hovered a huge eagle, talons outstretched, beak open, eyes glaring fiercely, ready for attack! CHAPTER XVII Primitive Tactics When Roy Manley saw the great bird above him, poised and hovering, ready to strike, something in the lad suddenly jerked him to his feet in prompt alertness. Oblivious of everything save that he was confronted by a creature intent upon attacking him, the savage, primitive man was aroused in the young rancher. He realized that he must, in this emergency, depend for defense upon his hands alone--as must have an ancient dweller in a cave of the stone age. As the bird, with a savage scream, swooped down at him, Roy lashed out with his bare fists. One blow caught the eagle full upon its feathered breast, knocking him aside. A wild yell burst from the boy’s lips, rivaling the bird’s screech in its intensity. He shouted. He called out meaningless phrases. He was a savage, battling for his life against an ancient enemy. As the eagle, knocked from its course, fluttered to the ground, Roy’s eyes lit with a strange, fierce gleam. He sprang for the bird and sought to grasp the creature, but, to his surprise, the great dweller of the upper regions was not there. With a single beat of its powerful wings it had gained the air once more.