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restrain themwith other duties). Though it was ill mannered tostare openly at their guests, there was naught to prevent their watching the travelers from cover, making comparisons between their champions and thosemarching in the protect circle about the females and younglings, or, better still, catching glimpses of theirChoosers.
    But to Furtig none of those were as attractive asFas-Tan of the cave of Former. And his interest wasmore for probable rivals than for the prizes of battle the other tribe could display. Not, he reflected
    .ruefully, that he had much chance of aspiring to Fas-Tan.
    Through some trick of heredity which ran in herfamily, she had odd fur coloring which was esteemed,along with the length of that fur, as beauty. The softfur about her head and shoulders was nearly threetimes the length of that sprouting from Furtig's owntougher hide, and it was of two colors—not spotted orpatched as was often the case but a dark brown shading evenly to cream. Her tail, always groomed to asilken flow, was also dark. Many were the fish-bonecombs patiently wrought and laid at the message rockto the fore of Former's cave, intended by the hopefulto catch the eye of Fas-Tan.
    And to know that sheused the work of one's clumsy hands was enough tomake a warrior strut for a day.
    Fas-Tan would certainly have first choice, and withher pride, her selection of mate would be he whoproved himself best. Furtig had not the least chanceof catching her golden eyes. But a warrior could dream, and he had dreamed.
    Now another thought plagued him. Fal-Kan's revelations concerning the folly, almost the treachery ofGammage, hung in his mind. He found himself looking not at the females of the westerners, but at thefringe of warriors. Most had hunting claws swingingat their belts. However, Furtig's eyes marked at leastthree who did not wear those emblems of manhood,yet marched with the defenders. A warrior could gainhis claws in two ways, since they no longer came fromGammage. He could put on those which had been hisfather's if his sire had gone into the Last Dark, or hecould challenge a claw wearer and strive for a victorythat would make them his.
    Furtig's claws had been his father's. He had had towork patiently and long to hammer their fasteningsto fit his own hands. If he were challenged tomorrowby one of the clawless and lost— He dropped his handprotectingly over the weapons at his belt. To losethose—
    However, when he thought of Fas-Tan there was aheat in him, a need to yowl a challenge straight intothe whiskered face of the nearest warrior. And heknew that no male could resist the Trials when theChoosers walked provocatively, tails switching, seeming to see no one, yet well aware of all who watched.
    And he was the only contender from the cave ofGammage this year. Also, since his brother Fughanhad brought home no mate, he was doubly held tochallenge. He wriggled back into the brush and headed for the caves.
    As he pulled up into his own place, he gave a smallsigh. Trials were never to the death; the People weretoo few to risk the loss of even one warrior. But a contender could be badly mauled, even maimed, if theAncestors turned their power from him.
    Only Gammage, Furtig's most notable Ancestor,was not here, even in spirit. And it seemed, after hehad listened to Fal-Kan, that Gammage had fallenfrom favor with his own kind. Furtig squatted by the lamp box and lapped a mouthful or two of water fromhis bowl as he thought about Gammage.
    Why did the Ancestor fear the return of the Demons? It had been so long since the last one had beenseen. Unless—Furtig's spine hair raised at the thought—deep in the lairs they still existed. And Gammage, creeping secret ways there, had learnedmore of their devilish evil than he had shared. But if that were true—no, he was certain Gammage wouldhave sent a plain message, one which might even havewon some of the People to join in his wild plans.
    Elders sometimes took to living in the past. Theyspoke