AS I stood there in the fern forest bound hand and foot and helplessly awaiting the death blow at the hands of Prince Gadrimel’s henchman, I was suddenly knocked flat by the drop of a huge, furry body from the limbs of the tree above me. Half dazed, I sat up just in time to see a female cave-ape crush the head of my would-be slayer with her sawedged club.
She turned, and as she did so, I recognized her features.
“Chixa!” I exclaimed.
“Long have the cave-apes sought their Rogo,” she said, “and great will be their rejoicing when he returns.”
With her flint knife she quickly cut my bonds, and I stood erect once more, stamping my feet and chafing my wrists to restore circulation, scarcely able, as yet, to understand that I was really alive.
“Do you cave-apes still consider me their king?”
“According to the custom you would lose your kingdom if you remained away for more than one endir. But you have been gone only a few days. As there is much judging to be done, we have been searching for you.”
“Where are the other searchers?” I asked.
“Many of them are within call.”
“Then call them, and let them call as many others as they can.”
With marvelous agility for a creature of such great size, she scampered up to the leaf crown of a tall tree-fern. Then, cupping her paws, she gave utterance to a queer, trilling cry. It was answered, not once, but many times, from various points far and near.
Then she descended the tree and dropped into the glade beside me.
Presently there came swinging through the branches a great, yellow-tusked male who, as soon as he saw me, roared, “Hail, Zinlo!” and dropped to the ground near me. Another emerged from the fern brakes, repeating the salute of the first, and it was not long before I was surrounded by more than two score males and about half as many females.
As these shaggy man-beasts sat grouped around me, respectfully waiting for me to speak, their demeanor showed that they recognized me as their king without question.
“My subjects,” I said, “I have work for you in which there is much danger and much fighting.”
“Will there be food-men?”
“There will be many food-men.”
“Good!” This answer was unanimous.
“We will start as soon as I have issued full instructions.”
But the great, yellow-tusked male who had first responded to the summons of Chixa protested, “There is judging to be done. Will you not first do the judging, so we may go into the fight with our differences settled?”
“Who are you,” I asked, “to question the edicts of your Rogo?”
“I am Griff, mighty warrior, mighty hunter,” he replied, puffing out his broad, hairy chest. “But I do not question your edicts. I only ask that you hold the judging now.”
Before I could answer him there came a sharp cry from a female who had perched herself in the branches above our heads in order that she might better observe everything that went on.
“Danger! Danger!” she shrieked. “A silticum!”
Every cave-ape instantly took to the trees, and I heard the crashing of a huge creature in the underbrush as it swiftly made its way through the forest. Evidently the silticum which had attacked the Doravian guards had seen us, even as Loralie had feared, and was now on our trail.
Quickly taking the last clip of explosive projectiles from my belt, I removed two of the needle-like missiles and bound each to the head of an arrow. Then I strung my bow and awaited the coming of the monster.
Chixa called to me from the leaf crown of a tall tree-fern. “Come up into the trees, Rogo. You cannot fight a silticum.”
“Yes, climb before it is too late,” called Griff. “No one has ever slain a silticum.”
Although I knew nothing of the ways of this saurian, I had seen its great size and knew that if it had intelligence enough to do so it could pull down any tree within my range of vision. In view of this fact, and also because I could not get about as swiftly as the cave-apes in the trees, I felt safer on the ground.
“Stay up in the trees if you like,” I answered them. “I will show you how your king slays a silticum.”
In a few moments I saw the huge green head swaying on the snaky neck at a height of about twenty feet above the ground. It was looking this way and that, apparently searching for me. As it drew closer I saw that it was indeed the same monster that had attacked the machine men in the boat, for projecting through its lower jaw was the transparent sword blade where the Doravian guardsman had thrust it, and which the creature had been unable to dislodge.
I fitted an explosive arrow to my bowstring, and at this moment the monster spied me. With a hiss like steam escaping from a locomotive, it distended its enormous jaws and charged straight for me. Taking careful aim at the cavernous maw, I drew the arrow back to the head and let fly.
The reptile turned slightly so my shaft did not strike the target squarely, but considering the terrific force of the tork projectile this did not greatly matter. For although the missile struck the monster in the corner of the mouth, the explosion tore off the whole side of its head.
I instantly fitted my second arrow to the bowstring, but instead of advancing the great saurian swerved to one side and began threshing about in a circle, striking this way and that with its huge, scaly tail which swept the fern trunks before it, knocking them over as if they had been mere reeds. As the tail now appeared to be the most formidable weapon of the beast, I aimed my second shaft with a view to crippling this appendage, and let fly.
It struck the monster just above one of its thick hind legs, blasting a great hole in the flank and not only crippling the tail but both hind legs as well.
Upon seeing this, the cave-apes instantly descended on the stricken reptile with yells of triumph, and were soon hacking at its heaving sides with their saw-edged clubs and prying up huge scales with their flint knives in order to get at the quivering flesh underneath.
“Hail, Zinlo!” the shouted. “Mighty warrior, mighty hunter, mighty sorcerer! With his magic he slays even the silticum, the terror of stream and forest!”
As I watched the cave-apes at their bloody feast, I recalled that I, too, was hungry. Elbowing my way through the growling, snarling, milling mob, I carved a steak from the shoulder with my keen Doravian dagger. Then I made a small cooking fire and grilled my slab of meat. It proved tasty enough, although rather tougher than a gourmet would have relished. But with good teeth and an excellent appetite this bothered me not at all.
By the time I had finished, and swallowed a draught from a water fern, my hairy retainers had all gorged themselves.
I arose and called them together. They squatted expectantly around me in a semicircle. “You, Griff,” I said. “Bring me that shiny club which sticks in the jaw of the silticum.”
After he had brought me the sword of the Doravian boatman, I continued, “You have asked that judging be done before we fight. I have no time for judging now, so I am going to let you do it. This shiny club will be your token of authority, by which you will do judging in my name. Go now, taking the shes with you, back to the caves. And beware that your decisions are just ones, for I will hear of it, and will come and slay you with my magic if they are not.”
“But Rogo,” he protested, “I would like to go and fight the food-men with your others.”
“You will do as you are bidden without further question. Throw away your old club and take this shiny one which slays with its point as well as its edges.”
Silently, and rather sullenly, he removed his club from his belt string and tossed it away. Then he took the sword and lumbered away through the forest, followed by the females.
As soon as they had departed I called the others together and started off on the trail of Prince Gadrimel. But darkness overtook us before we had gone more than five miles, and we were forced to take to the trees to avoid the depredations of the night-roving carnivora.
Propped in a high leaf crown that swayed with each passing breeze I didn’t get much sleep during that noisy night, oppressed by my constant fear for Loralie in the clutches of her unscrupulous cousin.
It was with a sigh of relief that I greeted the dawn and made my way to the ground. Impatient to be off, I stopped only for a drink of water, then started down the well-marked trail with my small but formidable company. The spoor of Loralie’s abductors continued to follow the winding course of the River of Life for about six miles to the remains of a large camp which had been completely surrounded by watch fires. Most of these were still smoldering as we came up.
Of the people of Prince Gadrimel we saw no sign, save tracks leading to the river where there were indentations made by the prows of small craft.
I led my ape-men at a trot along the flat, sandy beach for miles. The river bank gradually grew more rugged, and at last we climbed to a rocky eminence commanding a view of both sea and river.
Anchored not more than an eighth of a mile off this point, and rocking in the gently rolling swell, I saw the five ships of Prince Gadrimel. Paddling swiftly toward them from the river mouth were a score of small boats, in the foremost of which were two scarlet-clad figures which I knew must be Gadrimel and Loralie.
Helplessly I watched while his henchmen bundled the princess aboard the flagship, boats were drawn up to their places on the decks, sails were hoisted, and anchors weighed.
So, with straining eyes, a great lump in my throat and a weight in my heart, I saw Gadrimel triumphantly sail away over the bounding, blue-gray Ropok with the only woman I have ever loved.
As I stood there, absent-mindedly watching my subjects scurry through the forest in search of game, I pondered my predicament. The only thing left for me to do, I reasoned, was to follow the coast northward as Loralie and I had planned to do. In order to reach Olba I would pass through Adonijar, but single-handed I could do nothing against an entire nation.
Once in Olba I felt that I could persuade the Torrogo to let his supposed son have an air fleet for the purpose of avenging the attempted murder of the Crown Prince, and with this I could quickly persuade the ruler of Adonijar to give up the princess.
I dreamed thus futilely until a great splash of rain struck me in the face, followed by the patter of many more on the leaves around me. Brought to a sudden realization of my surroundings, I noticed that the gentle wash of the waves against the shore had changed to the booming roar of huge breakers, that the trees were bending before a considerable breeze, and that despite the fact that the day was not yet spent it was growing steadily darker.
A terrific peal of thunder, followed by a vivid flash of lightning, made every cave-ape drop the bone he was gnawing and look toward me as if for protection or guidance.
“Zog makes magic in the heavens, Rogo,” said Rorg, quaking with fear. “Zog is angry. Let us hide until he goes away. I noticed a great cave beneath the next cliff when I was hunting.”
Glancing around at the other beast-men, I saw that Rorg was not the only one who had been frightened by the peal of thunder. Every cave-ape was shivering in abject terror.
“Lead the way to the cave, Rorg,” I said. “I do not fear Zog, but there is much rain and much wind coming from across the big water, and a cave will be more comfortable.”
The frightened cave-ape needed no urging, but hurried off at once, the others after him, while I brought up the rear at a more leisurely pace. Peal after peal of thunder sounded, the lightning flashed almost incessantly, and rain came down in torrents before I reached the cave mouth.
Entering, I beheld my erstwhile fearless fighters huddled together like frightened frellas and shivering as if with the ague.
“Every one fears Zog,” explained a young ape.
“Your Rogo does not fear him,” I said, “and you should not. Come and help me pile stones in the doorway lest a silticum or some other monster get in tonight.”
“We are afraid to go to the doorway,” quavered Rorg. “Zog will slay us with his magic fire.”
“Enough of this. Come over here and help me, every one of you, or I will slay you all with my magic.”
The tragic fear which was in their eyes was pitiful to behold, but they were not long in choosing between what they believed would be sure death from my magic and possible death from the bolts of the deity they called “Zog.” The doorway was soon so completely blocked that no night-roaming beast could enter.
Night having come on by this time, the only light in the cave was from the frequent flashes of lightning.
For a long time I stood at the entrance. Each lightning flash showed branches flying through the air, fern-trees blown over, and wild things, large and small, scurrying for shelter.
I was awakened in the morning by a loud clatter and the sound of gruff voices. Sitting up with a yawn, I stretched my cramped limbs as I watched Rorg and several other cave-apes dragging the barricade away from the cave entrance. Gone was the unreasoning fear that had gripped them the night before.
I rose and followed them outside. The storm had vanished, and other than the upper cloud envelope which is ever present in the Zarovian sky, the heavens were clear. But the still-dripping fern forest plainly showed the ravages of the tempest. The ground was littered with leaves and branches; trees were bent over, snapped off and uprooted, and many streams of muddy water trickled riverward.
Crossing the gulch which separated our cave from the highest eminence, I climbed to the point where I had been standing the night before when the storm struck, to find some spore pods. As I gazed out over the Ropok, now rolling as gently as it had before the storm, my munching terminated in a sudden exclamation of surprise.
Lying on their sides far out in the surf with the waves rolling over them, and apparently deserted, I saw the battered hulls of two of Prince Gadrimel’s ships. And anchored on the lee side of the promontory on which I stood, were the other three ships, their spars and rigging in most sorry case. The flagship, I observed, was the one anchored nearest the point of the headland, indicating that Loralie had escaped death, for which I was deeply thankful. From where I stood I could see the crews of the three ships busy repairing the damages which the storm had wrought.
Crouching in order that I might not be observed, I made my way back into the gulch, where most of my fierce retainers were finishing their morning meal.
“The food-men have returned,” I said. “Keep out of sight so they will not know that we are here. And do not go far away, as I will probably need you to fight very soon.”
“We will remain nearby, Rogo,” said Rorg. “We are all very hungry for the flesh of food-men.”
I returned to my lookout on the rock and tried to formulate some plan of attack. Presently I saw two scarlet-clad figures appear on the deck of the flagship. The smaller of the two was constantly attended by two armed warriors. Gadrimel had evidently found it expedient to keep the princess under constant surveillance.
But a plan did not suggest itself to me until I saw several boats lowered and a party of officers, headed by Gadrimel, put off for shore. Dashing back to the gulch where my cave-apes were grouped, I said, “Some of the food-men are coming ashore. We will divide into two parties of equal size, one of which will be under the leadership of Rorg. The other I will lead.
“Rorg’s party will go down near the shore at the spot toward which they are coming. With his warriors he will climb into the trees, taking care lest the food-men see any of them, for they carry magical clubs which can kill at a great distance. As soon as the food-men enter the forest, Rorg and his warriors will drop down on them from the trees and surprise them. They can thus be slain before they have a chance to use their magic clubs. Do you understand, Rorg?”
“I understand, Rogo,” replied the old cave-ape. “The food-men will not see us until we fall upon and slay them.”
Calling the other cave-apes to follow me, I hurried to the other side of the promontory and descended its steep seaward side where we were hidden from view of the ships. Then, cutting the string I had with me into appropriate lengths, I tore a number of fronds from a wide-leafed variety of bush-fern, and proceeded to bind these to the heads of my subjects, spreading them in such a manner that at a distance they would effectually conceal the heads and shoulders of the great brutes. Disguising myself in the same manner, I led my savage followers to the very point of the promontory and into the water.
“You will all keep close together in the water,” I said, “and follow me without noise. There are many trees and branches floating down the river this morning, and if we swim carefully and silently we will not be noticed.”
Peering around the point, I saw that Gadrimel and his hunters had landed and were starting into the forest. Then there came to me faintly the yells of startled men and the roars of fighting cave-apes, interspersed with the popping of torks and clash of weapons, and I knew that all eyes on board the ship would be directed toward the scene of battle.
“Now,” I said, and plunging into the water, swam around the point and straight for the flagship. Just behind me, in such close formation that we must have appeared like a single, tangled mass of floating branches, came my camouflaged apes.
The flagship was not more than a thousand feet from the point, but before we could reach it I saw more boats put off from all the ships and make swiftly for the scene of combat on shore.
We came up under the prow of the ship just as the sounds of conflict announced the arrival of the small boats at the beach where the battle was taking place.
Silently I seized the taut anchor chain and went up, hand over hand. Just as silently, my ape warriors followed. On reaching the top, I peered cautiously through the railing. Loralie and her two guards were standing on the starboard side watching the battle on shore. There were three men aloft, apparently there to repair the rigging, but they, too, had their eyes trained shoreward.
Without a sound, I climbed over the railing, and with sword in one hand and dagger in the other, advanced toward the two men. Simultaneously, I jabbed the point of my dagger in the back of one, and the point of my sword in the other.
“One false move,” I said, “and you die. Raise your hands above your heads and keep your faces shoreward.”
They complied with alacrity. With a little scream of fear, Loralie turned to see what had happened.
“Zinlo!” she exclaimed. “I knew you would come!”
“Take their weapons, my princess.”
She quickly removed their belts from which depended their torks and scarbos.
Three of the apes had meanwhile scrambled aloft after the men in the rigging, and the others were searching the ship.
“Bring to me alive those who do not resist,” I shouted. “You may slay the others.”
My words had the desired effect on Gadrimel’s men, for although those in the rigging all carried short scarbos, none offered to fight. Other than these three and the two I had disarmed, the apes found only the cook and his helper.
When the prisoners had all been rounded up, I addressed them.
“All of you who are willing to take orders from me will give the royal salute. The others will be quickly deposed of, as my apes are hungry.”
To a man, they saluted.
“You three,” I said, addressing the men who had been aloft, “hoist the sails. And you,” pointing to the two guards, “heave the anchor.”
I sent the cook and his helper back to their pots and pans under guard of two apes. Then I took the helm with Loralie at my side and as the sails filled, steered for the open sea.
We had nearly passed the point of the promontory when the boom of a mattork and the sing of its shell through our rigging announced that we had been discovered.
“Can you steer?” I asked Loralie.
“Better than you, landsman,” she answered laughingly. “Give me the helm.”
Her father ruled the greatest maritime nation on Zarovia.
“Make for the open sea,” I said, “and I’ll see if my marksmanship is better than my steering.” The mattork, which was nothing but an oversized tork mounted on a tripod, stood nearby swathed in its water-proof covering. Beside it was the case which contained the clips of projectiles with their various designations printed in patoa: Solid, Paralyzing, Deadly, Explosive.
Stripping the cover from the weapon, I chose a clip of explosive projectiles and inserted it in the breech. By this time two mattorks on each of the anchored ships had opened fire, and shells were screaming around us. One snapped a shroud, and I ordered a sailor up to replace it. Another burst against our hull. And still others, ricocheting from the surface of the water, whined plaintively as they sped on their way.
I took careful aim at the rear mattork on the nearest ship and pressed the button. But the weapon was strange to me, and equally strange was the experience of firing a projectile from a ship. I saw my shell strike the water far behind the mark.
Again I took aim, this time allowing for the rocking of the ship. To my surprise, my shell burst just beneath my target, tearing the gunner to shreds and knocking the weapon from its tripod.
I tried another shot at the forward mattork, but it went wild. Then both boats slipped from our view as we rounded the promontory.
“My marksmanship is as wretched as my handling of a boat,” I said. “But they cannot harry us for a time, at least. Where to now, my princess?”
With one hand she reached for my own, drew my arm around her slender waist. The other still skillfully managed the helm.
“Whither you will, beloved,” she replied. “Shall it be Olba or Tyrhana—north or south?”
“Which is nearer?”
“They are about equally distant from here.”
“Then let us try for Olba, for there I am sure Gadrimel dare not follow us.”
Gently she brought the boat about until its prow pointed directly north. “It will not be long before Gadrimel sets out after us.”
“He may have been slain by Rorg and his apes.”
“Not he,” replied Loralie. “I was watching from the ship, and saw that he was the first to run for the beach when they were attacked. Standing beside a boat and ready to put off at a sign of a turn in the tide of battle, he used his tork, but did not get into the thick of the fight. A cautious youth, my cousin.”
It was not long before her prediction was fulfilled. One of the ships nosed around the promontory and came after us with all sails up.
I sprang to the mattork and fired. It was a bad miss. Again I fired. This time my projectile struck the water close to the target. I was getting the range. But when I would have fired a third time there was an explosion in the breech. The projectile had jammed and the safety plug had blown out.
Frantically I worked with the recalcitrant weapon, momentarily expecting a volley from our pursuers. But none came. Evidently the prince had forbidden the use of mattorks because of the presence of Loralie on our vessel.
Suddenly a terrific explosion from the front of our vessel knocked me flat. Half dazed, I gripped a leg of the tripod for support just as the deck gave a violent lurch forward.
My prostrate body swung halfway over, and I saw with horror that the front end of the ship had been completely blown away and she was plunging into the waves, nose down. I have never learned the cause of that explosion, but believe that the cook or his helper found a way to outwit their ape guards and destroy the vessel.
My gaze flashed to the wheel, but the princess was nowhere in sight, then I heard a shout from the water behind me. Loralie was swimming in the wake of the swiftly sinking vessel. “Jump!” she cried. “Jump quickly, or you will be dragged down with the ship!”
I sprang to the rail and leaped over. A moment later I was swimming beside her as we both strained every muscle in our endeavor to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and the stricken vessel before she went down.
But try as we would, we could not escape the mighty suction of the boat as it plunged beneath the waves. Like tossing corks we were dragged back in spite of our utmost efforts. But by the time we reached the center of the whirlpool it had so far subsided that the water was comparatively calm and we were not drawn under.
Presently bits of wreckage began to come up around us. A huge timber suddenly popped to the surface. We swam to it and found it amply buoyant to sustain our combined weight in the water.
As we topped the crest of a wave I glanced back. The first ship was within a quarter of a mile of us, and I caught a glimpse of a scarlet-clad figure in the bow, eagerly scanning the water with a glass.
I was still looking back when a cry from Loralie attracted my attention in another direction. “A killer norgal! The scourge of the Ropok has seen us! We are doomed!”
Bearing down on us at terrific speed, I saw an enormous fish. Its body, fully thirty feet in length, was blue in color, and bristled with sharp spines of a deep crimson shade. Its huge jaws, large enough to have swallowed ten men at a gulp, were open, revealing row on row of sharp, back-curved teeth.
“Better that than Gadrimel,” said Loralie with a shudder, “for we can die together. One last kiss, beloved, for it is the end.”
Our lips met and clung, across the timber. Then I drew my sword, puny weapon indeed with which to meet such an enemy.