Astounding Science Fiction Stories Vol 1

by Anthology

  At the breakfast table in the cheerful little cabin, around which they presently gathered, the various members of the expedition discussed their plans for the day. They all were in high good humor that morning. Their journey had been a wonderful success so far. The seaplane--the very latest thing in flying craft, and capable of carrying twice its present allotment of passengers as well as the immense amount of fuel, arms, and provisions with which it was stored--had made the long flight with remarkable ease and speed. They had not found it necessary to make a single unscheduled stop, and they had not encountered a single storm en route.

  This in itself was enough to put them in buoyant spirits; but this was not all. For various reasons they were all of them glad to reach the island. Doctor Thorold Dumont, famous scientist and exponent of Darwinism, was glad because he was going to have an opportunity of studying the strange race of natives which lived there. Thomas Hardin, wealthy banker and sportsman of worldwide reputation, and Irene, his wife and Doctor Dumont's niece, were happy because Borneo brought back memories of the days when they first had met and learned to love each other; and Batu, the former Dyak chieftain, was elated at the thought of spending a few days in his native jungle.

  "Batu and I will do some scouting and prospecting this morning," Hardin decided. "We'll tramp inland toward the volcano and try to get in touch with the natives. After we've established friendly relations with them--a mere formality, of course--you two can land, and we'll all go on to their village."

  Doctor Dumont nodded. "All right," he said; "but be as quick as you can, please. Remember, I am exceedingly anxious to test my theories. I want to see if there is any ground for the current belief that they are directly descended from the ape. If they are, if any of them have rudimentary tails, as I am inclined to believe, Professor Archer's statement to the contrary notwithstanding, it will be a big step forward. When I was in Borneo years ago I was interrupted before I could prove or disprove this important fact. This time I must not fail."

  "You'll be careful, won't you, Tom?" Irene begged, looking at her big husband anxiously. "Don't forget that these ape-men are only a little way removed from brutes. They used to be head hunters and cannibals, you know, and we must be on our guard against treachery."

  "I know, dear," he assured her, smiling; "but that was long ago. Conditions are very different now. The Bamangani have absolutely no reason to be hostile; quite the contrary, in fact. They should be glad to see us, and they will be when they see what we've brought them. Our presents will tickle them to death. There's no danger--if there was, we wouldn't have come. Besides, at the very first hint of trouble we can fly away again. You mustn't worry, honey."

  "Oh, I'm not worrying," Irene declared, although her eyes belied her words; "but I can't help thinking. I wish uncle's business wasn't forever taking him into such outlandish places. This island is a spooky place; it makes me uneasy. We must be very careful until we're sure of our reception."

  "We will be, of course. We'll take every precaution. After we land, you must run the Condor out here again and anchor until we return. We'll be back before dark. Some of the natives might wander this way in the meantime, however, and it would be better in such an event for the plane to be out of reach. Except Batu, none of us can speak their language, you know. At the least hint of danger take to the air or the middle of the lake and fire a gun twice rapidly for a signal--sounds like that will travel far in this still atmosphere."

  CHAPTER II.

  - SIGNS OF TROUBLE.

  AS soon as breakfast was finished and he and Batu had strapped cartridge belts and revolvers around their waists, Hardin started the engines and maneuvered the bird-boat close in to the beach so that he and the Dyak could jump ashore. Then, standing on the sand, he watched Irene return to their former anchorage.

  When she had done so and killed the engines, he waved his hand in good-by and followed Batu up a deep, rock-walled gully which, they knew, would take them through the fringe of jungle to the open plateau which lay between the shore and the foot of the mountain.

  In the beginning they proceeded slowly, for they were in no particular hurry; the path was steep and treacherous, and there was much to see. Ten yards from the beach they were as completely surrounded by bushes and lianas as if the lake had been miles away. The walls of the gorge were matted with creeping vines which interlaced overhead, so that the two men walked in a kind of tunnel that was carpeted with ferns and moss--covered stones.

  Batu was pleased to the point of elation at this chance to revisit old scenes and renew old acquaintances. His ordinarily somber features were continually wreathed in smiles as they clambered along over the many obstructions which blocked the path.

  "Look, tuan," he kept saying, "look, tuan, there is the place near that great rock where my people camped once. I remember this place well, tuan; I came here many years ago with my father, the headman, when we were on our way to visit the Fire Mountain. Great Ji-meeny!" The last exclamation was called forth by the sight of a great brown snake in the rocks ahead of them, and he bounded off to investigate.

  Hardin smiled good-naturedly. Naturally very strong, he had kept his body hard as nails by sports and exercise so that he was not wearied by the steep climb as many men of sedentary occupations would have been. He was interested, however, in the many new and strange sights which were constantly appearing, and his thoughts were too engrossing to permit him to hurry.

  He was wondering, too, just where they would first meet some member of the Bamangani tribe and what sort of a reception they would receive when they did so. The thought of danger never entered his head, but he knew that the ape-men would be surprised and at first suspicious, and he had, therefore, taken such precautions as he thought best to insure his wife's safety until after the first flurry of explaining their presence on the island was over.

  In the meantime he relied upon Batu's knowledge of the Bamangani tongue and his own common sense to smooth over the rough spots. As a last resort, of course, the two men had their rifles and revolvers to fall back upon.

  At last they reached the level of the plateau and paused to look around them. It was a strange and eerie sight which met their gaze. Directly ahead, five miles or so away, were the two peaks of the volcano, with the sluggish smoke spiral between them. To the rear was the jungle and the lake beyond; to the right and left, as well as straight ahead, the sun-baked plateau stretched for miles. Beyond this again were trees and still more trees; trees in an almost solid mass which near the spot where they stood extended into the plateau in a V-shaped point that almost touched the rim of the gorge.

  This plateau was a freak of nature by itself. It was sprinkled with chunks of basalt and rocks of many colors which had been deposited there by the volcano during eruptions long since ended. It was cut up and crossed by innumerable gorges and arroyos similar to that up which they had come, and in many places there were queer stinking pools of mud and water, which rumbled and spouted at intervals like miniature geysers.

  The air was permeated with a strong odor of sulphur, and the varied colors of the rocks and the soil beneath them denoted the presence of vast quantities of minerals of many kinds. Although the two men could see for several miles in nearly all directions except the rear, they saw nothing that moved except smoke and the spouting mudholes.

  While Hardin sat down on a convenient rock to fill and light his pipe, Batu moved on for a bit. All at once, the banker saw the Dyak stoop and look closely at the ground, then turn and beckon to him. Putting his pouch back into his pocket, he got up and joined his companion.

  "Look, tuan!" the Dyak burst out. "Many people pass here not long ago--Bamangani, I think. Look!" He pointed to a soft spot in the soil where the tracks of many bare feet were discernible.

  Interested at once, Hardin bent over them. "They're headed toward the jungle," he said after a moment. "Hunting party, I suppose. How many do you think there were, Batu?"

  "Fifty maybe," Batu replied. "They were not hunting, tuan.
There were too many for that. These tracks are very fresh; they must have been made early this morning."

  "Well, what of it?" Hardin asked, when his face suddenly went pale. "Good heavens!" he gasped, reading the thought in the other's eyes. "You think that--"

  "I was thinking that it might be possible, tuan," Batu admitted quietly. "They are not headed directly that way, but they could turn after they reached the trees, and it is their nature to approach anything new and strange very cautiously. Still, there is nothing to be alarmed about. They would hardly dare to attack the Condor in broad daylight. Mrs. Hardin and Doctor Dumont have guns, and the Bamangani would be afraid to--"

  He stopped talking abruptly, and both men turned their faces in the direction of the lake; then looked back at each other horror-stricken. Faint, but perfectly distinct in the still air, sounded the reports of two gunshots fired in quick succession. It was the signal agreed upon between Hardin and his wife--there could be no doubt of it. For an instant the banker stared at his companion, then he turned and began to run back down the gorge as fast as his legs could carry him.

  CHAPTER III.

  - AN AUDACIOUS MOVE.

  HARDING did not run far, however. Eager as he was to reach the lake, he soon found that the going was too rough for running. The best either he or Batu could do was to walk rapidly, and as they walked Hardin tried hard to imagine what might have happened.

  When he left the seaplane that morning he had entertained no idea of danger. He felt that the apemen would prove to be friendly when they met them and explained the object of their visit, and there was nothing else to fear that he knew of.

  Even if the natives regarded them as enemies, Hardin did not believe that they would dare to attack the Condor. To their ignorant, superstitious eyes the great bird-boat must seem like a visitor from the sky, and they were apt to remain in awe of it for days, even after they knew that it was inhabited by human beings.

  No; it could not be an attack by the Bamangani, he told himself; but if not, what was it? In an agony of apprehension he hurried as best he could to get to the beach to find out.

  The two men had nearly reached the bottom of the gorge, when they heard a faint hum of many voices coming from the trees below them. Instantly on the alert, Batu crouched down behind a convenient bowlder and pulled his employer to a place beside him.

  The murmur grew louder, and presently Hardin could distinguish a shrill jabber which told him that the voices came from a number of apemen, who were all talking at once, as was their custom when aroused.

  At the end of a few minutes they came into view, a dozen of them; squat, powerful, hairy creatures, red-brown in color, with apelike limbs, and perfectly naked save for their sirats, or loin clothes. In their hands they carried spears and clubs, and as they ambled along they jabbered at each other excitedly.

  Hardin's eyes ran over them almost unseeingly. He had eyes for no one except the man and woman--especially the woman--who walked in their midst. He could have picked that golden head out of a thousand. It was his wife, walking with her hands tied behind her back, and by her side walked her uncle, Doctor Thorold Dumont, similarly bound.

  For a little, too dumfounded at the sight even to breathe, Hardin started tensely; then he would have started up, but the Dyak caught him by the arm.

  "Wait, tuan," he whispered; "wait a little. We must not hurry too much. Just watch a minute."

  Hardin crouched down again obediently. He was too dazed to argue just then. In fact, he could hardly believe the evidence of his eyes; he did not see how it was possible for Irene to have become a prisoner in so short a time. He was thankful for one thing, however--she did not seem to be hurt at all. She was much disheveled, and her dress was torn in several places, but she walked normally, and her white face showed no signs of pain. Her uncle, too, barring a slight scratch on one cheek, was uninjured.

  About fifty feet from the bowlder which hid the two men from their sight the Bamangani halted, evidently to give their prisoners a breathing space. They were preparing to move on again, when Hardin and Batu, having exchanged a whispered word or two meanwhile, stepped out into the open.

  At their sudden appearance, the ape-men halted in their tracks as though turned to stone, each one absolutely motionless except for his eyes, which traveled over the newcomers in startled surprise. Irene uttered a little half-inarticulate cry of glad relief, and Doctor Duman took a quick step forward; then they, too, became motionless and silent.

  For perhaps a minute the silence was absolute on both sides. At length, Batu raised one hand palm outward in a token of peace.

  "What do you with the white chief and chieftainess?" he demanded in the Native tongue. "They are our friends, and we have come from far off to visit you in peace. Unloose them!"

  At this there was a murmur among the apemen, and one who seemed to be their leader stepped forward.

  "Who are you that come to us so boldly?" he retorted. "Our prisoners must go to the long-house for judgment and you with them, O friends of theirs."

  Batu laughed confidently. "You talk child's talk," he said. "With the 'talking-sticks' which we carry we could kill you all before you could lay hand upon us. But we do not wish to kill you. We come as friends, and in the great flying thing yonder on the lake we have many presents for your headmen. Be warned in time. Unloose your captives!"

  The ape man scowled. "We do not fear you," he answered. "A man has been killed, and you all must stand before the Ancient One for judgment. As for the flying thing, it is ours already. If there are presents in it we shall find them." He grunted something to his companions, who grasped their spears threateningly and drew closer around their prisoners.

  Hardin cocked his rifle with his thumb and stepped forward. He had not understood the words of the conversation between Batu and the ape man, but from the tone employed he had little difficulty in guessing its general meaning, and he was too impatient to brook further delay.

  "Walk straight toward me, Irene," he said, in a quiet voice. "Pay no attention to the natives. I won't let them touch you. Come right along--both of you."

  Without an instant's hesitation Irene did as she was told. She knew that when her husband looked as he did at that moment he meant what he said, and if she had any fear at all it was for the ape-men rather than for herself as, with her uncle close behind her, she stepped out boldly.

  For a moment it almost looked as if the Bamangani would let them go unhindered. The very audacity of the move seemed to paralyze them for a few seconds; but it was not to be. One of the ape-men was quicker witted, or less in awe of the stranger, than his companions, and with a guttural exclamation he extended a hairy paw and grasped Irene by the shoulder. Half a second later Hardin's rifle cracked, and the warrior was lying on his back, beating the air with his hands and feet.

  For an instant, shocked at the suddenness of the thing, the rest of the Bamangani never moved; then, with loud yells of rage and fright, they scattered and ran for cover, turning at some distance to hurl a volley of spears, which did no harm.

  Hardin laughed grimly as he cut the bonds of the captives. "Cowardly brutes," he muttered. "I didn't think they'd stand long in front of our guns. How did they get you, honey?"

  "I don't know exactly, dear." Irene threw her arms around her husband in wild relief. "We were down in the cabin when we felt the plane rock, and then the whole place was full of them. Uncle had only time to shoot twice when they overwhelmed us."

  "We'd better hurry back," said Hardin. "I hope they haven't damaged the Condor." Taking his wife by the arm, he turned down the gorge.

  "No, no," she cried; "not that way, Tommy. The ape-men--There are dozens more of them on the beach and in the plane. We'll walk right into them that way."

  "The devil!" her husband exclaimed, ducking instinctively as a spear whizzed over his shoulder. "Come on, anyhow; we must get out of this. Those fellows are getting their courage back, and if they have friends close by we'll be in for it presently. We must find
shelter. What say, Batu? Which way?"

  "Get on top of gorge other side from Bamangani, tuan," the Dyak advised. "We can hide in the jungle and reach the Condor later, maybe. All the others hear shot and come up gorge this way. Sure, Mike!"

  "Righto!" Hardin caught the idea instantly. "Up with you, dear," giving his wife a shove toward the side of the gorge. "Go ahead, doctor; I'll be right after you." He turned and swept the vine-covered ridge where the ape-men were hiding with half a dozen well-placed shots before he began to scramble after his companions.

  CHAPTER IV.

  - IN THE JUNGLE.

  WITH Batu leading the way and clearing the path where necessary with his long chopping knife, the four weary fugitives slowly pushed on through the jungle in the direction of the lake. They were following an ancient trail, so narrow that they were forced to walk in single file.

  Sometimes, they traveled under great branches which arched high over their heads; sometimes the branches were so low that they must stoop to pass under them; but always they wound in and out between mighty tree trunks with gnarled roots twisting up above the ground, and with a myriad of flowering creepers twining down from their lofty tops.

  The matted thickness of the foliage and the countless number of lianas shut out the sun and made a ghostly dimness that was awe-inspiring to walk through. When they spoke, which was seldom, they did so in whispers, as though afraid to break the silence which seemed to press down upon them. Long intervals elapsed in which they heard no sound except the thud and rustle of their own feet on the humid ground.

  Occasionally, troops of monkeys and flocks of bright-colored birds made the air hideous with their cries; every now and then, Irene gasped and caught her breath in horror as a great snake slid across the trail and disappeared in the matted undergrowth beyond. It was an eerie place, especially so in the eyes of the wanderers, who were constantly thinking of the bloodthirsty savages they were trying to escape, and by whom, for all they knew, they might at any moment be attacked.