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pan as a fly is flicked from a wall。 As he plunged downward the rush of the river was like a knell in his ears； but his twisting body fell half…way across the lower arch。 He wavered there precariously for one blood…chilling instant； then his clutching fingers hooked over the farther edge； and he scrambled to safety； his sword still in his other hand。
As he sprang up； he saw the monster； spurting blood hideously； rush toward the cliff…end of the bridge； obviously intending to descend the stair that connected the arches and renew the feud。 At the very ledge the brute paused in mid…flight…and Conan saw it too…Muriela； with the jewel chest under her arm； stood staring wilding in the mouth of the tunnel。
With a triumphant bellow the monster scooped her up under one arm； snatched the jewel chest with the other hand as she dropped it； and turning； lumbered back across the bridge。 Conan cursed with passion and ran for the other side also。 He doubted if he could climb the stair to the higher arch in time to catch the brute before it could plunge into the labyrinths of tunnels on the other side。
But the monster was slowing； like clockwork running down。 Blood gushed from that terrible gash in his breast； and he lurched drunkenly from side to side。 Suddenly he stumbled； reeled and toppled sidewise…pitched headlong from the arch and hurtled downward。 Girl and jewel chest fell from his nerveless hands and Muriela's scream rang terribly above the snarl of the water below。
Conan was almost under the spot from which the creature had fallen。 The monster struck the lower arch glancingly and shot off； but the writhing figure of the girl struck and clung； and the chest hit the edge of the span near her。 One falling object struck on one side of Conan and one on the other。 Either was within arm's length； for the fraction of a split second the chest teetered ont he edge of the bridge； and Muriela clung by one arm； her face turned desperately toward Conan； her eyes dilated with the fear of death and her lips parted in a haunting cry of despair。
Conan did not hesitate； nor did he even glance toward the chest that held the wealth of an epoch。 With a quickness that would have shamed the spring of a hungry jaguar； he swooped； grasped the girl's arm just as her fingers slipped from the smooth stone； and snatched her up on the span with one explosive heave。 The chest toppled on over and struck the water ninety feet below； where the body of the servant of Bit…Yakin had already vanished。 A splash； a jetting flash of foam marked where the Teeth of Gwahlur disappeared for ever from the sight of man。
Conan scarcely wasted a downward glance。 He darted across the span and ran up the cliff stair like a cat； carrying the limp girl as if she had been an infant。 A hideous ululation caused him to glance over his shoulder as he reached the higher arch； to see the other servants streaming back into the cavern below； blood dripping from their bared fangs。 They raced up the stair that wound up from tier to tier； roaring vengefully； but he slung the girl unceremoniously over his shoulder； dashed through the tunnel and went down the cliffs like an ape himself； dropping and springing from hold to hold with breakneck recklessness。 When the fierce countenances looked over the ledge of the aperture； it was to see the Cimmerian and the girl disappearing into the forest that surrounded the cliffs。
〃Well；〃 said Conan； setting the girl on her feet within the sheltering screen of branches； 〃we can take our time now。 I don't think those brutes will follow us outside the valley。 Anyway； I've got a horse tied at a water…hole close by； if the lions haven't eaten him。 Crom's devils！ What are you crying about now？〃
She covered her tear…stained face with her hands； and her slim shoulders shook with sobs。
〃I lost the jewels for you；〃 she wailed miserably。 〃It was my fault。 If I'd obeyed you and stayed out on the ledge； that brute would never have seen me。 You should have caught the gems and let me drown！〃
〃Yes； I suppose I should；〃 he agreed。 〃But forget it。 Never worry about what's past。 And stop crying； will you？ That's better。 e on。〃
〃You mean you're going to keep me？ Take me with you？〃 she asked hopefully。
〃What else do you suppose I'd do with you？〃 He ran an approving glance over her figure and grinned at the torn skirt which revealed a generous expanse of tempting ivory…tinted curves。 〃I can use an actress like you。 There's no use going back to Keshia。 There's nothing in Keshan now that I want。 We'll go to Punt。 The people of Punt worship an ivory woman； and they wash gold out of the rivers in wicker baskets。 I'll tell them that Keshan is intriguing with Thutmekri to enslave them…which is true…and that the gods have sent me to protect them…for about a houseful of gold。 If I can manage to smuggle you into their temple to exchange places with their ivory goddess； we'll skin them out of their jaw teeth before we get through with them！〃
BEYOND THE BLACK RIVER
Heading for Punt with Muriela； Conan carries out his scheme for relieving those worshippers of an ivory goddess of some of their abundant gold。 He then continues to Zembabwei。 In the city of the twin kings he joins a trading caravan； which he squires northward along the desert borders…borders patrolled by his one…time Zuagir marauders…bringing it safely into Shem。 He continues northwards across the Hyborian kingdoms to his bleak homeland。 Conan is now around forty； with few signs of his years save a more deliberate approach to wenching and the pursuit of trouble。 Back in Cimmeria； he finds the sons of his contemporaries raising families in their turn and tempering their northern hardihood with little luxuries； which filter up from the softer Hyborian lands。 Even so； no Hyborian colonist has crossed the Cimmerian borders since the destruction of Venarium； more than two decades before。 Now； however； the Aquilonians are spreading westward； through the Bossonian Marches into the fringes of the Pictish wilderness。 So thither； seeking work for his sword； goes Conan。 He enrolls as a scout at Fort Tuscelan； the last Aquilonian outpost on the east bank of the Black River； deep in Pictish territory。 Here a fierce tribal war with the Picts is in progress。
1。 Conan Loses His Ax
The stillness of the forest trail was so primeval that the tread of a soft…booted foot was a startling disturbance。 At least it seemed so to the ears of the wayfarer； though he was moving along the path with the caution that must be practised by any man who ventures beyond Thunder River。 He was a young man of medium height； with an open countenance and a mop of tousled tawny hair unconfined by cap or helmet。 His garb was mon enough for that country…a coarse tunic； belted at the waist； short leather breeches beneath； and soft buckskin boots that came short of the knee。 A knife…hilt jutted from one boot…top。 The broad leather belt supported a short； heavy sword and a buckskin pouch。 There was no perturbation in the wide eyes that scanned the green walls which fringed the trail。 Though not tall； he was well built； and the arms that the short wide sleeves