AS they stood there talking, Jan took hold of a thick creeper which bad grown up the side of the wall, and pulled it to throw it out of his way. To his surprise, it clung to the wall. He pulled harder, but it would not budge. Then he stepped away from the wall and looked upward. Half a dozen creepers like this one had climbed side by side, almost to the summit.
“Come!” he whispered to Koh. “Here is a way into the city.”
Tearing off a branch of the vine, he made both ends fast to the hunting spear and slung it over his back that he might have the use of both hands. Koh did likewise with the fishing spear. Then Jan sprang up the vine with ape-like agility, and the prince, after waiting until they were about twenty feet apart in order that their combined, weight would not be on the same tendrils at the same time, followed.
When he reached the top of the wall, Jan moved with extreme caution. His position was about halfway between two sentry towers. The sentry on his left was standing in front of the tower, leaning on his longbow and looking out toward the bridge. At first he could not see the one on his right, but he presently made out his huddled form leaning against the tower, asleep.
Very carefully, Jan drew himself up, and flattening, wormed across the edge of the wall. It was about three feet thick at the upper edge. Just behind it was a row of terraces, each three feet wide, and with a drop of the same distance to the next, reaching clear to the ground. He crawled down onto the first terrace and unslinging his spear, waited. In a moment he was joined by Koh, and the two noiselessly descended the terraces until they reached the ground.
The part of the city in which they found themselves was a residence section of flat-roofed buildings set closely together, their fronts level with the paved street. Lights showed in a few of the houses, but most of them were dark, showing that their occupants had retired.
After following the wall for some distance, they came to a narrow street, lighted only by the rays of the moon, and now nearly deserted.
“This street must lead to the palace,” said Koh, “for I have heard that the city is laid out like the web of a spider, with streets branching out in all directions, but all centered at the Imperial Palace. The palace, with its gold dome, represents the sun, and the streets branching out from it, the rays. There are concentric circles of narrower streets connecting the ray streets.”
“Then let us follow this street,” said Jan.
“Dressed as we are,” replied Koh, “that would be an impossibility. The streets are constantly patrolled and we would be seen and captured.”
“And where would we be taken?”
“Probably to the palace for judgment. Ordinary prisoners would be taken before a magistrate, but because I am of royal blood and you are a stranger in the valley we would probably be taken before the emperor, himself.”
“After all,” mused Jan, “it would be the easiest way to get there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Leave your spear here and follow me.”
Jan discarded his hunting spear and started down the street. Koh dropped the fishing spear and followed. The first person they passed wore the garb of a merchant. He stared at them as if he could not believe his eyes, but they walked on, ignoring him.
They saw two more men approaching. Moonlight glinted from their polished armor and the tips of their spears.
“The patrol!” whispered Koh.
“Good!” replied Jan.
He swaggered straight toward the oncoming figures. Koh followed his example. Soon the clank of armor and weapons was audible. It grew louder. Jan thought the two would pass them by, unnoticed, but suddenly as they were abreast, one turned.
“Halt!” he commanded.
Jan and Koh stopped in their tracks. The two in armor sauntered over, peering at them.
“A strange pair,” said the first, staring beneath his raised visor.
“By the long slim beak of Tehuti!” exclaimed the other. “A savage dressed in the skin of an animal!”
“And this other!” said the first. “Pierce me through, if he wears not the scarlet of the royal house of Kan! Who are you two?” he demanded:
“I am Koh of Temukan,” said the prince.
“And I am Jan.”
“Jan of where? Of what?”
The youth hesitated for a moment.
“Jan of the jungle,” he replied.
“Of the jungle? You look the part. Where are you going?”
“We were on our way to the palace.”
“To the palace! You hear him, Batau? They were going to the palace—a jungle savage and a yellow prince! No doubt they intended calling on his imperial majesty, the emperor.”
“No doubt, Pebek. They are visiting royalty—a prince of Temukan and a prince of the jungle. It would be discourteous to let them go unattended.”
“They should have a guard of honor. We will go with them to the palace.” Pebek bowed ironically to the two youths. “You will permit us to escort you. Proceed.”
The two youths moved forward, each with a spear point at his back.
On their way to the palace they met a few straggling townsmen. These stared, but made no comment. Soon they stood before the great arched gate of the palace grounds. Here were fully fifty golden-armored warriors on guard. Jan began to realize the magnitude of the task he had undertaken.
At a word from their captors the gates swung open, and they were allowed to pass.
“This place is easier gotten into than out of,” muttered Koh.
“So it seems,” replied Jan, “but we are not ready to leave, yet.”
“Silence you two,” growled Batau, and prodded Jan with his spear point.
With the pain of that wound, Jan’s carefully thought out plan was forgotten. It transformed him, in an instant, to a raging jungle creature.
He whirled with a snarl of rage and, seizing the shaft of the spear, snapped it off. Balancing it for a moment, he hurled the resulting three-foot javelin with all his might. It struck Batau in the left eye and entered his brain, killing him instantly.
Pebek had attempted to come to the rescue of his comrade, but he had immediately been set upon by Koh. His movements impeded by the weight of his armor, the warrior was far too slow for his agile adversary. He had dropped his long spear, useless at such close quarters, and was drawing his sword, when Koh snatched his dagger from his belt and struck for his neck, just above the rim of his breast plate. The slim blade went home to the jugular, and Pebek, after staggering blindly for a moment, slumped to the ground, blood oozing from between the joints of his armor.
“Quick!” pasted Koh. “Let us get them out of sight. If they are discovered the whole palace guard will be after us.”
They swiftly dragged the two fallen warriors into the shrubbery that bordered the path. Then they returned and picked up the weapons that had been dropped, returning into the shrubbery with these.
Scarcely had they reached their place of concealment when they heard the march of approaching warriors.
“They heard, and are after us,” said Jan.
“I think not,” replied Koh. “It is probably a squad from the palace to relieve the watch at the gate. They keep step, and are not hurrying. But when they reach the gate, look out.”
Koh’s surmise was proved correct, when a few moments later fifty spear-men filed past, looking neither to the right nor left. As soon as they had passed, each youth armed himself with the sword and dagger of his fallen foe-man. Then they hurried away toward the palace.
“How do you expect to find Chicma in that great building?” asked Koh, as they stood in a little clump of tall trees, looking up at the massive structure with its towers, turrets and balconies.
“By her scent, if she is there,” replied Jan. He was looking up at the tall tree beneath which they were standing. Its branches brushed the railing of an upper balcony.
At this moment there came a shout from the gate—the sound of armed men running through the shrubbery.
“Follow me,” said Jan. “I see a way into the palace, where they will least expect to find us.”
He sprang up into the tree, and climbed rapidly. The prince followed more slowly, unable to compete with the ape-like agility of his companion. When he reached the limb that brushed the balcony, Jan swung out on it, caught the railing, and drew himself up. At the rear of the balcony a hinged window stood open. The room behind it was in darkness.
Creeping over to the opening, Jan investigated the room with twitching, sensitive nostrils. His nose told him that people had been there recently, but that it was unoccupied now. Koh came silently over the railing.
Excited shouts came up to them from the ground, cries of rage. The two bodies had been discovered.
Jan led the way into the darkened room. At the far end, he saw a faint blur of light, and went directly toward this. It came from behind a heavy curtain which draped a doorway. Cautiously he moved the curtain a little way. Outside was a narrow hall, lighted at intervals by lamps hung on wall brackets. The oil burning in them gave off a mild, sweet aroma that reminded Jan of flowers.
A quick survey showed him that there was no one in the hall. He stepped out, followed by Koh, his nostrils wide as he endeavored to catch Chicma’s scent. The perfume from the lamps confused him.
Presently he turned to the left and like a hound on a trail, went straight to a door about fifty feet away. Here he halted, sniffing for a moment, then lifted the curtain and peered in.
He saw Chicma, but she was not in a cage, and she was not alone. She was lolling on a cushioned divan, daintily nibbling on a sweetmeat from a dish piled high on a taboret beside her. Her ragged jaguar-skin garment was gone. In its place was a gaudily colored jacket of the softest silk. There was a jewel-studded gold collar around her neck, and jewels blazed from golden settings on her finger and toe rings. Beside her stood a slender yellow slave girl, who was brushing her fur.
Jan turned to Koh.
“Seize the slave,” he whispered. “We’ll bind and gag her. Then Chicma can come away with us.”
Together they rushed in. Koh clapped his hand over the girl’s mouth before she could cry out. Startled by their abrupt entrance, Chicma leaped down from the divan and started to run. Then she recognized Jan, and stopped.
“What do you want?” she clucked, in her guttural chimpanzee tongue.
“I’ve come to take you away,” he said.
“I like it here,” she replied. “I won’t go away. You do not need me. You are grown, and can care for yourself. Go away and don’t bother me.”
Jan was dumfounded. To think that he had risked his life needlessly, passed through countless perils to save Chicma from her captors, only to find that she actually liked her captivity! All this he could not tell to Chicma. There was no chimpanzee way of expressing it.
“I will go,” he clucked to her. To Koh: “She won’t go. We must go without her. First I’ll help you bind the girl.”
He tore a strip of cloth from the curtain. But before he could use it, the girl suddenly wrenched her mouth free from Koh’s hand, and shrieked loudly.
There was an answering shout from the hallway, the clank of armored men running.
“No use to bind her now,” said Jan. “Come.”
He dashed out the window, onto the balcony. Koh flung the girl from him and followed, just as a host of warriors rushed into the room. One of the guards, searching the the shrubbery beneath, spied the two figures on the balcony and shouting to his fellows, pointed upward.
The nearest tree stood about twenty feet from the balcony. Jan stepped up on the rail, and shouting, “Follow me!” plunged across the dizzy height. For him it was not much of a jump. Many times he had leaped this far, from tree to tree, in the jungle. His sure hands gripped the lowest branch, clung there. But the branch cracked, sagged, then tore loose from the trunk. Jan’s body swung out to the horizontal and dropped. He struck on his back with terrific force. Then came oblivion.