"In time," said Kamchak, `'she will beg for the rag of a slave."

I supposed it was true. A girl could take only so much, and then she would kneel to her master, her head to his boots, and beg for a bit of clothing, even though it be only to be clad Kajir.

Kajira is perhaps the most common expression for a fe- male slave. Another frequently heard expression is Sa-Pora, a compound word, meaning, rather literally, Chain Daughter, or Daughter of the Chain. Among the Wagon Peoples, to be clad Kajir means, for a girl, to wear four articles, two red, two black; a red cord, the Curia, is tied about the waist; the Chatka, or long, narrow strip of black leather, fits over this cord in the front, passes under, and then again, from the inside, passes over the cord in the back; the Chatka is drawn tight; the Kalmak is then donned; it is a short, open, sleeve- less vest of black leather; lastly the Koora, a strip of red cloth, matching the Curia, is wound about the head, to hold the hair back, for slave women, among the Wagon Peoples, are not permitted to braid, or otherwise dress their hair; it must be, save for the Koora, worn loose. For a male slave, or Kajirus, of the Wagon Peoples, and there are few, save for the work chains, to be clad Kajir means to wear the Kes, a short, sleeveless work tunic of black leather. As Kamchak and I walked to his wagon, I saw several girls, here and there, clad Kajir; they were magnificent; they walked with the true brazen insolence of the slave girl, the wench who knows that she is owned, whom men have found beautiful enough, and exciting enough, to collar. The dour women of the Wagon Peoples, I saw, looked on these girls with envy and hatred, sometimes striking them with sticks if they should approach too closely the cooking pots and attempt to steal a piece of meat.

"I will tell your master!" screamed one.

The girl laughed at her and with a toss of her auburn hair, bound in the Koora, ran off between the wagons.

Kamchak and I laughed.

I gathered that the beauty had little to fear from her master, saving perhaps that she might cease to please him. The wagons of the Wagon Peoples are, in their hundreds and thousands, in their brilliant, variegated colors, a glorious sight. Surprisingly the wagons are almost square, each the size of a large room. Which is drawn by a double team of bosk, four in a team, with each team linked to its wagon tongue, the tongues being joined by "tem-wood crossbars. The two axles of the wagon are also of "tem-wood, which perhaps, because of its flexibility, joined with the general flatness of the southern Gorean plains, permits the width of the wagon. The wagon box, which stands almost six feet from the ground, is formed of black, lacquered planks of "em-wood. Inside the wagon box, which is square, there is fixed a rounded, tentlike frame, covered with the taut, painted, var- nished hides of basks. These hides are richly colored, and often worked with fantastic designs, each wagon competing with its neighbor to be the boldest and most exciting. The rounded frame is Fred somewhat within the square of the wagon box, so that a walkway, almost like a ship's bridge, surrounds the frame. The sides of the wagon box, incidental- ly, are, here and there, perforated for arrow ports, for the small horn bow of the Wagon Peoples can be used to advant- age not only from the back of a kaiila but, like the crossbow, from such cramped quarters. One of the most striking features of these wagons is the wheels, which are huge, the back wheels having a diameter of about ten feet; the front wheels are, like those of the Conestoga wagon, slightly small- er, in this case, about eight feet in diameter; the larger rear wheels are more difficult to mire; the smaller front wheels, nearer the pulling power of the bask, permit a somewhat easier turning of the wagon. These wheels are carved wood and, like the wagon hides, are richly painted. Thick strips of boskhide form the wheel rims, which are replaced three to four times a year. The wagon is guided by a series of eight straps, two each for the four lead animals. Normally, how- ever, the wagons are tied in tandem fashion, in numerous long columns, and only the lead wagons are guided, the others simply following, thongs running from the rear of one wagon to the nose rings of the bask following, sometimes as much as thirty yards behind, with the next wagon; also, too, a wagon is often guided by a woman or boy who walks beside the lead animals with a sharp stick.

The interiors of the wagons, lashed shut, protected from the dust of the march, are often rich, marvelously carpeted and hung, filled with chests and silks, and booty from looted caravans, lit by hanging tharlarion oil lamps, the golden light of which falls on the silken cushions, the ankle-deep, intricat- ly wrought carpets. In the center of the wagon there is a small, shallow fire bowl, formed of copper, with a raised brass grating. Some cooking is done here, though the bowl is largely to furnish heat. The smoke escapes by a smoke hole at the dome of the tentlike frame, a hole which is shut when the wagons move.

There was the sudden thud of a kailla's paws on the grass between the wagons and a wild snorting squeal.

I jumped back avoiding the paws of the enraged, rearing animal.

"Stand aside, you fool!" cried a girl's voice, and to my astonishment, astride the saddle of the monster I espied a girl, young, astonishingly beautiful, vital, angry, pulling at the control straps of the animal.

She was not as the other women of the Wagon Peoples I had seen, the dour, thin women with braided hair, bending over the cooking pots.

She wore a brief leather skirt, slit on the right side to allow her the saddle of the kaiila; her leather blouse was sleeveless; attached to her shoulders was a crimson cape; and her wild black hair was bound back by a band of scarlet cloth. Like the other women of the Wagons she wore no veil and, like them, fixed in her nose was the tiny, fine ring that proclaimed her people.

Her skin was a light brown and her eyes a charged, spark- ling black.

"What fool is this?" she demanded of Kamchak.

'No fool," said Kamchak, "but Tarl Cabot, a warrior, one who has held in his hands with me grass and earth." "He is a stranger," she said. "He should be slain!" Kamchak grinned up at her. "He has held with me grass and earth," he said.

The girl gave a snort of contempt and kicked her small, spurred heels into the Banks of the kaiila and bounded away. Kamchak laughed. "She is Hereena, a wench of the First Wagon," he said.

"Tell me of her," I said.

"What is there to tell?" asked Kamchak.

'What does it mean to be of the First Wagon?" I asked. Kamchak laughed. "You know little of the Wagon Peo- ples," he said.

"That is true," I admitted.

"To be of the First Wagon," said Kamchak, "is to be of the household of Kutaituchik."

I repeated the name slowly, trying to sound it out. It i8 pronounced in four syllables, divided thus: Ku-tai-tu-chik. "He then is the Ubar of the Tuchuks?" I said.

'His wagon," smiled Kamchak, "is the First Wagon and it is Kutaituchik who sits upon the gray robe."

"The gray robe?" I asked.

"That robe," said Kamchak, 'which is the throne of the Ubars of the Tuchuks."

It was thus I first learned the name of the man whom I understood to be Ubar of this fierce people.

"You will sometime be taken into the presence of Kutai- tuchik," said Kamchak. "I myself," he said, 'must often go to the wagon of the Ubar."

I gathered from this remark that Kamchak was a man of no little importance among the Tuchuks.

"There arc a hundred wagons in the personal household of Kutaituchik," said Kamchak. 'No be of any of these wagons is to be of the First Wagon."

"I see," I said. 'And the girl she on the kaiila is perhaps the daughter of Kutaituchik, Ubar of the Tuchuks?" "No," said Kamchak. "She is unrelated to him, as are most in the First Wagon."