Jim Courtot was hurrying up the slope. They saw him stop dead in his
tracks. He, too, seemed turned to stone by the sound. It came again,
the terrible howling of a dog, nearer as though the creature sped
across the hills on the wings of the quickening morning wind. Sanchia
stopped and began to draw back. Longstreet came on unconcernedly.

A third time, and again nearer, came the strange baying. Courtot held
where he was, balancing briefly. Then they heard him cry out, his
voice strange and hoarse; he whirled about and began to run. He was
going down the trail now, running as a man runs only from his death,
stumbling, cursing, rising and plunging on.

'Look!' Howard's fingers had locked upon Helen's arm. 'It is Kish
Taka!'

She looked. Behind them, outlined against the sky, were a strange
pair. A great beast, head down, howling as it ran, that was bigger
than a desert wolf, and close behind it, gaunt body doubled, speeding
like an arrow, a naked man. They flashed across the open space and
sped down the steep slope of the ravine where, in the shadows, they
became mere ghost figures.

'It is Kish Taka!' said Howard a second time. 'And again Kish Taka has
saved my life.'

Dazed, the girl did not yet understand. She shivered and drew close to
her lover, stepping into his arms. He held her tight, and they turned
their fascinated eyes below. The speed of Jim Courtot in the grip of
his terror was great; but it looked like lingering leisure compared to
the speed of Kish Taka and his great hungering dog. And, now, behind