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 worked other craftsmen (in Tukhlia every man knew carpentry) making other such machines. The youths, women and children were occupied plaiting the necessary ropes.

“Well, I see our Mongolians will have a difficult time of it under these circumstances, trying to find themselves an outlet from this hollow,” thought Tuhar Wolf, following his daughter further into the forest, along a beaten path, towards the glade in the middle of which an enormous campfire burned and where the council of Tukholian elders had gathered for deliberation.

“Peace-Renown,” Tuhar Wolf asked after a moment’s silence, “did you teach them how to make the engines?”

“Yes, I did,” she replied, watching her father intently, expecting a wrathful outburst. But to her amazement there momentarily passed a look of satisfaction on the boyar’s face.

“Very good, daughter!” he said tersely.

Peace-Renown was surprised, not understanding what that change in her father’s stand signified. She did not realize that his belief in the fortunate outcome of the Mongolians’ march and especially in the ability of the Mongolians to keep their promises had become very shaky and that in this new turn of events the boyar was forced to turn to the people while the action of his daughter stood in the way of accomplishing his purpose.

They neared the clearing where the Tukholian wise men sat wakeful, engaged in conference. It was a spacious glade turned somewhat to the south, from the north closed off by an impregnable bluff of crumbly Carpathian slate. A belt of giant spruces encompassed the glade from the east, south and west, so that the sun only at its zenith could peer into it.

In ancient times, the entire surface of this glade had been paved with immense flag-stones which were now covered with a downy growth of moss and clusters of prickly fern. Only one path in the center was well trodden, leading to a deep