They tried firing at the twang of Nalasu's bowstring, but every time Nalasu fired he instantly changed position.

Several times, warned of Jerry's nearness, they fired at him, and, once even, was his nose slightly powder burned.
When day broke, in the quick tropic grey that marks the leap from dark to sun, the Annos retreated, while Nalasu, withdrawn from the light into his house, still possessed eighty arrows, thanks to Jerry.

The net result to Nalasu was one dead man and no telling how many arrow-pricked wounded men who dragged themselves away.
And half the day Nalasu crouched over Jerry, fondling and caressing him for what he had done.

Then he went abroad, Jerry with him, and told of the battle.

Bashti paid him a visit ere the day was done, and talked with him earnestly.
"As an old man to an old man, I talk," was Bashti's beginning.