Lost on Venus v-2

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  It was very powerful, but it fought without fire or enthusiasm just the cold, deadly application of force. It reached for my throat; to reach for its throat was useless. I could not choke the life from something that had no life. The best that I could do was to try to evade its clutches and wait for an opening that might never come.

  I am rather muscular myself; and I did manage to push the thing from me for a moment, but it came right back. It didn't say anything; it didn't make any sound at all. There was no expression in its glazed eyes, but its dry lips were drawn back over yellow teeth in a snarling grimace. The sight of it and the touch of those cold, clammy fingers almost unnerved me—these and the strange odor that emanated from it, the strange odor that is the odor of death.

  As it came toward me the second time it came with lowered head and outstretched arms. I leaped for it, and locked my right arm about its head from above. The back of its neck was snug against my armpit as I seized my own right wrist with my left hand and locked my hold tighter. Then I swung quickly around, straightening up as I did so and, incidentally, nearly capsizing the boat. The creature lost its footing as I swung it about; its arms flailed wildly, as with a last mighty surge I released my hold and sent it stumbling over the gunwale into the river. Like the others, it floated away.

  A few yards away, the raft was drifting with Nalte wide-eyed and tense with excitement. Seizing an oar I brought the boat alongside and extending a hand assisted Nalte over the side, I noticed that she was trembling.

  "Were you frightened, Nalte?" I asked.

  "For you, yes. I didn't think that you had a chance against three of them. Even now I can't believe what I saw. It is incredible that one man could have done what you did."

  "Luck had a lot to do with it," I replied, "and the fact that I took them by surprise. They weren't expecting anything of the sort."

  "How strangely things happen," mused Nalte. "A moment ago I was about to drown myself in sheer desperation, and now everything is changed. The danger is over, and instead of an inadequate raft we have a comfortable boat."

  "Which proves that one should never give up hope."

  "I shan't again—while you are with me." I had been keeping an eye on the Kormor quay rather expecting to see another boat put out in pursuit of us, but none did.

  The fishermen and the sentries on the waterfront of the other city had all stopped what they were doing and were watching us.

  "Shall we row over there and see if they will take us in?" I asked.

  "I am afraid," replied Nalte. "We have a saying in Andoo that the farther strangers are away the better friends they are."

  "You think that they would harm us?" I asked.

  Nalte shrugged. "I do not know, but the chances are that they would kill you and keep me."

  "Then we won't take the chance, but I would like to remain near here for a while and search for Duare."

  "You can't land on the left bank until we are out of sight of Kormor," said Nalte, "or they would be after us in no time."

  "And if we land in sight of this other city these people would take after us, if what you fear be true."

  "Let's go down stream until we are out of sight of both cities," suggested the girl, "and then wait until night before coming back near Kormor to search, for that is where you will have to search for Duare."

  Following Nalte's suggestion we drifted slowly down stream. We soon passed Kormor, but the white city on the right bank extended on for a couple of miles farther. I should say that its full length along the river front was fully five miles, and along all that length was the broad quay backed by a gleaming white wall pierced by an occasional gate—I counted six or seven along the full length of the water front.

  Just below the city the river turned to the right, and almost immediately the cliffs shut off our view of both cities. Simultaneously the aspect of the country changed. The limestone cliffs ended abruptly, the river running between low banks. Here it spread out to considerable width, but farther ahead I could see where it narrowed again and entered a gorge between cliffs much higher than any that we had passed. They were wooded cliffs, and even from a distance I could see that they were not of the white limestone that formed those with which we had now become familiar.

  There came to my ears faintly an insistent sound that was at first little more than a murmur, but as we drifted down the river it seemed to grow constantly in volume.

  "Do you hear what I hear?" I demanded, "or am I the victim of head noises?"

  "That distant roaring?"

  "Yes; it has become a roar now. What do you suppose it can be?"

  "It must be the falls that Skor told me of," said Nalte.

  "By Jove! That's just what it is," I exclaimed. "And the best thing that we can do is to get to shore while we can."

  The current had carried us closer to the right bank at this point, and just ahead of us I saw a small stream emptying into the river. There was an open forest on the farther side of the stream and scattered trees on the nearer.

  It appeared an ideal location for a camp.

  We made the shore easily, for the current here was not swift. I ran the boat into the mouth of the small stream, but there was not water enough to float it. However, I managed to drag it up far enough to tie it to an overhanging limb of a tree where it was out of sight of any possible pursuers from Kormor who might come down the river in search of Nalte and myself.

  "Now," I said, "the thing that interests me most at present is securing food."

  "That is something that always interests me," admitted Nalte, with a laugh. "Where are you going to hunt? That forest on the other side of this little stream looks as though it should be filled with game."

  She was facing the forest as she spoke, while my back was toward it. Suddenly the expression on her face changed, and she seized my arm with a little cry of alarm. "Look, Carson ! What is that?"

  Chapter 13—To Live or Die

  AS I TURNED at Nalte's warning cry, I thought that I saw something dodge behind low bushes on the opposite bank.

  "What was it, Nalte?" I demanded.

  "Oh, it couldn't be what I thought I saw," she whispered excitedly. "I must be mistaken."

  "What did you think you saw?"

  "There's another—there—look!" she cried.

  And then I saw it. It stepped from behind the bole of a large tree and stood eying us, its fangs bared in a snarl. It was a man that went on four feet like a beast. Its hind legs were short, and it walked on its hind toes, the heels corresponding to the hocks of animals. Its hands were more human, and it walked flat on the palms of them in front. Its nose was flat, its mouth broad, and its heavy, undershot jaws were armed with powerful teeth. Its eyes were small and close set and extremely savage. Its skin was white and almost hairless except upon its head and jowls. Another one appeared suddenly beside it.

  "You don't know what they are?" I asked Nalte. "We have heard of them in Andoo, but no one ever believed that they existed. They are called zangans. If the stories I have heard are true they are terribly ferocious. They hunt in packs and devour men as well as beasts."

  Zangan means beast-man, and no better word could have been coined to describe the creature that faced us across that little stream in far Noobol. And now others came slinking into view from the shelter of bushes and from behind the boles of trees.

  "I think we had better hunt elsewhere," I said in a weak effort to be jocose.

  "Let's take to the boat again," suggested Nalte.

  We had already walked a little distance from the spot where I had moored our craft, and as we turned to retrace our steps I saw several of the zangans enter the water on the opposite side and approach the boat. They were much closer to it than we, and long before I could untie it and drag it into deeper water they could be upon us.

  "It is too late!" cried Nalte.

  "Let's fall back slowly to that little rise of ground behind us," I said. "Perhaps I can hold them off there."

  We retreated sl
owly, watching the zangans as they crossed the stream toward us. When they came out on shore they shook themselves as dogs do, and then they came slinking after us again. They reminded me of tigers—human tigers—and their gait was much that of a stalking tiger as they approached with flattened heads and snarling lips.

  They growled and snapped at one another, revealing a viciousness greater than that of beasts. Momentarily I expected a charge, and I knew that when it came Nalte's troubles and mine would be over forever. We wouldn't have even a fighting chance against that savage pack.

  There were about twenty of them, mostly males; but there were a couple of females and two or three half grown cubs. On the back of one of the females rode a baby, its arms tightly hugging the neck of its mother.

  Savage as they appeared, they followed us warily as though they were half afraid of us; but their long, easy strides were constantly cutting down the distance between us.

  * * * * *

  When we reached the little mound toward which we had been retreating they were still fifty yards behind us. As we started to ascend the rise a large male trotted forward, voicing a low roar. It was as though it had just occurred to him that we might be trying to escape and that he ought to try to prevent it.

  I stopped and faced him, fitting an arrow to my bow. Drawing the shaft back to the very tip I let him have it squarely in the chest. He stopped in his tracks, roared horribly, and clawed at the feathered end protruding from his body; then he came on again; but he was staggering, and presently he sank to the ground, struggled for a moment, and lay still.

  The others had stopped and were watching him. Suddenly a young male ran up to him and bit him savagely about the head and neck; then raised his head and voiced a hideous roar. I guessed that it was a challenge as I saw him look about him at the other members of the pack. Here, perhaps, was a new leader usurping the powers of the one who had fallen.

  Apparently no one was prepared to question his authority, and now he turned his attention again to us. He did not advance directly toward us, but slunk off to one side. As he did so he turned and growled at his fellows. That he was communicating orders to them at once became evident, for immediately they spread out as though to surround us.

  I loosed another arrow then, this time at the new leader. I struck him in the side and elicited such a roar of pain and rage as I hope I may never hear again—at least not under such circumstances.

  Reaching back with one hand the beastman seized the shaft and tore it from his body, inflicting a far more serious hurt than the arrow had made in entering; and now his roars and screams fairly shook the ground.

  The others paused to watch him, and I saw one large male slink slowly toward the wounded leader. The latter saw him, too; and with bared fangs and ferocious growls charged him. The ambitious one, evidently realizing that his hopes had been premature, wheeled and fled; and the new chief let him go and turned again toward us.

  By this time we were three-quarters surrounded. There were nearly twenty ferocious beasts confronting us, and I had less than a dozen arrows.

  Nalte touched me on the arm. "Good-by, Carson ," she said. "Now, surely, the last is upon us."

  I shook my head. "I am saving the last second in which to die," I replied. "Until then I shall not admit that there is ever to be a last second for me, and then it will be too late to matter."

  "I admire your courage if not your reasoning," said Nalte, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "But at least it will be a quick death—did you see how that fellow tore at the throat of the first one you shot? It is better than what Skor would have done to us."

  "At least we shall be dead," I observed.

  "Here they come!" cried Nalte.

  They were closing in on us now from three sides. Arrow after arrow I drove into them, nor once did I miss my mark; but they only stopped those that I hit—the others slunk steadily forward.

  They were almost upon us as I loosed my last arrow. Nalte was standing close beside me. I put an arm about her.

  "Hold me close," she said. "I am not afraid to die, but I do not want to be alone—even for an instant."

  "You are not dead yet, Nalte." I couldn't think of anything else to say. It must have sounded foolish at such a time, but Nalte ignored it.

  "You have been very good to me, Carson," she said.

  "And you have been a regular brick, Nalte, if you know what that means—which you don't."

  "Good-by, Carson ! It is the last second."

  "I guess it is, Nalte." I stooped and kissed her. "Good-by!"

  * * * * *

  From above us and behind us on the mound came a sudden crackling hum that was like the noise that an X-ray machine makes, but I knew that it was not an X-ray machine. I knew what it was even without the evidence of the crumpling bodies of the zangans dropping to the ground before us—it was the hum of the r-ray rifle of Amtor!

  I wheeled and looked up toward the summit of the mound. There stood a dozen men pouring streams of the destructive rays upon the pack. It lasted for but a few seconds, but not one of the ferocious beasts escaped death. Then one of our rescuers (or were they our captors) came toward us.

  He, like his companions, was a man of almost perfect physique, with a handsome, intelligent face. My first impression was that if these were fair examples of the citizens of that white city from which I assumed they had come, we must have stumbled upon an Olympus inhabited solely by gods.

  In every company of men we are accustomed to seeing some whose proportions or features are ungainly or uncouth; but here, though no two men exactly resembled one another, all were singularly handsome and symmetrically proportioned.

  He who approached us wore the customary gee-string and military harness of the men of Amtor. His trappings were handsome without being ornate, and I guess from the insigne on the fillet that encircled his brow that he was an officer.

  "You had a close call," he said pleasantly.

  "Rather too close for comfort," I replied. "We have you to thank for our lives."

  "I am glad that I arrived in time. I happened to be on the river wall as you drifted past, and saw your encounter with the men from Kormor. My interest was aroused; and, knowing that you were headed for trouble down river on account of the falls, I hurried down to try to warn you."

  "A rather unusual interest in strangers for a man of Amtor," I commented, "but I can assure you that I appreciate it even if I do not understand it."

  He laughed shortly. "It was the way you handled those three creatures of Skor," he explained. "I saw possibilities in such a man; and we are always looking for better qualities to infuse into the blood of Havatoo. But come, let me introduce myself. I am Ero Shan."

  "And this is Nalte of Andoo," I replied, "and I am Carson Napier of California."

  "I have heard of Andoo," he acknowledged. "They raise an exceptionally fine breed of people there, but I never heard of your country. In fact I have never seen a man before with blue eyes and yellow hair. Are all the people of Cal —"

  " California ," I prompted.

  "—of California like you?"

  "Oh, no! There are all colors among us, of hair and eyes and skin."

  "But how can you breed true to type then?" he demanded.

  "We don't," I had to admit.

  "Rather shocking," he said, half to himself. "Immoral—racially immoral. Well, be that as it may, your system seems to have produced a rather fine type at that; and now, if you will come with me, we shall return to Havatoo.

  "May I ask," I inquired, "if we return as guests or as prisoners?"

  He smiled, just the shadow of a smile. "Will that make any difference—as to whether you return with me or not?"

  I glanced up at the armed men behind him and grinned. "None," I replied.

  "Let us be friends," he said. "You will find justice it Havatoo. If you deserve to remain as a guest, you will be treated as a guest—if not—" he shrugged.

  * * * * *

  As we reached the top of the
little hillock we saw, just behind it, a long, low car with transverse seats and no top. It was the first motor car that I had seen on Venus. The severity of its streamlines and its lack of ornamentation suggested that it was a military car.

  As we entered the rear seat with Ero Shan his men took their places in the forward seats. Ero Shan spoke a word of command and the car moved forward. The driver was too far from me, and hidden by the men between us, to permit me to see how he controlled the car, which moved forward over the uneven ground smoothly and swiftly.

  Presently as we topped a rise of ground we saw the city of Havatoo lying white and beautiful before us. From our elevation I could see that it was built in the shape of a half circle with the flat side lying along the water front, and it was entirely walled.

  The river curves to the right below the city, and the direct route that we followed returning to it brought us to a gate several miles from the river. The gate itself was of magnificent proportions and an architectural gem, bespeaking a high order of civilization and culture. The city wall, of white limestone, was beautifully carved with scenes that I took to portray the history of the city or of the race that inhabited it, the work having apparently been conceived and executed with the rarest taste; and these carvings extended as far as I could see.

  When one considers the fact that the wall on the land side is about eight miles long and on the river side about five miles, and that all of it is elaborately carved, one may understand the vast labor and the time required to complete such an undertaking along both faces of a twenty-foot wall.

  As we were halted at the gate by the soldiers on guard I saw emblazoned above the portal, in the characters of the universal Amtorian language, "TAG KUNI VOO KLAMBAD," Gate of the Psychologists.

  Beyond the gate we entered a broad, straight avenue that ran directly toward the center of the water front. It was filled with traffic—cars of various sizes and shapes, running swiftly and quietly in both directions. There was nothing but vehicular traffic on this level, pedestrians being accommodated on walkways at the level of the second stories of the buildings, which were connected by viaducts at all intersections.