by D. E. Ellis
Making sure there were no needle trees in the vicinity, Thane made Bruce comfortable and set to work. They had not travelled far into the forested area. Even the short distance they had managed to travel back had brought them within sight of the edge of it. Here, the trees thinned out and Thane was able to find three somewhat separate from the others. He did not wish to cause a forest fire if he could help it.
Lighting the fires at the base of the trees presented no difficulties, the undergrowth being very dry. So far, Thane had not studied this closely, but it appeared to be of a creeping vine-like variety. He tore it up from the ground hacking the tough stems with his knife. I grew very close to the earth and had formed a pleasant, springy carpet on which to walk.
Soon, his back ached with the effort of keeping the fires going. The undergrowth burned readily enough, but the trees themselves seemed to be indestructible. He doubted whether he could possibly have caused a real forest fire, even if he had been careless—although the undergrowth might have been ravaged for a considerable distance.
Staggering with fatigue, he kept the fires going for three hours, stopping only to attend to Bruce every now and again. The latter had fallen into an uneasy sleep and there was little Thane could do for him. It was now halfway through Demeter’s night, and Thane felt like giving in and joining Bruce. The trees were little more than a foot thick, but progress had been terribly slow.
He allowed one fire to burn low, then examined the tree again. At last only a few inches to go! He attacked the tree with the small axe he had been carrying. To his surprise, it actually made an impression. He let all three fires go out, resting while they did so.
Then feeling a little refreshed., Thane set himself to chopping the trees down. Now that the wood had been dried out by the fire, the task was not much more difficult than it would have been on Earth. A final push sent each one crashing to the ground. There was still much to be done. Clearing the trunks of branches proved to be as difficult as burning them down had been; but by the rest period next day, Thane had the tree blackened trunks tied together, forming a very crude raft, about three feet by ten.
Stopping only to report to the Unisphere, and finding there was still no news of Courton and Dunstable, Thane flopped out beside Bruce and slept soundly for several hours. That this was dangerous without a guard vaguely occurred to him, but he was past caring. To work as he had done, against the weakening drag of gravity, was a feat of endurance that many would not have attempted. However he had been spurred on by the thought that every day passed brought the satellite nearer to the dark side of the planet. They had to get back soon; otherwise without adequate clothing or food, their chances of survival were not worth counting.
When Thane awoke, he realised, with a shock, that another six valuable hours had passed. Soon it would be dawn. He felt terribly guilty as he looked at Bruce. The thought of what might have happened to his friend while he was asleep was most alarming. However, it was no use worrying about it now. Bruce’s condition did not seem to have altered much; he was feverish and scarcely knew what was happening.
Thane dragged the other man to the raft, which he had left floating. The level of the river was about two feet below the edge of the bank, so he had to lower Bruce, praying that the raft would not tip up. Bruce would, no doubt, have welcomed the wetting; but, in his weakened state, he would probably have swallowed more water than was good for him. Suddenly, Thane remembered that it was high time he called the Unisphere. It was Wormald who answered this time. He sounded relieved:
“Thank goodness you’re still all right. I was beginning to think Thursfield and I would have to carry on alone. Somehow, I didn’t fancy that!”
“I’m alright, but Bruce is till in a bad way. Barring unforeseen accidents, though we should be back in about twenty-four hours. The raft I’ve made should float us downstream a whole lot quicker than the time it took us to struggle here, under our own power. I gather from the way you speak, you’ve had no word from the other two.”
“Not a thing. Thursfield’s very worried. He says we landed on the sixth day of Demeter’s journey round the sun side of the planet. That would be two of Earth’s days. Nine more Demeter days have passed since then, and we’re nearly half way round to the dark side again. It will take Courton and Dunstable longer to get back against the flow of the river than it has taken them on their outward journey—so they ought to be starting back soon, if they’re able to do so.”
“If we manage to get back successfully we can use the raft to search for them, unless they contact us before that. It can carry all the extra equipment we couldn’t hope to manage ourselves against this gravity. If we find them in time, there’s a chance of surviving while we’re passing round the cold side, even if we can’t return to the Unisphere.” With this Thane hurriedly ended the conversation It was even more important that he should waste no time in getting back than it had been before.
The current had been very slack on their journey upriver, so Thane could see no reason why it should be dangerous to board the raft himself and allow it to drift back. He took with him a long, tough branch—which he had trimmed off one of the trees—to aid and guide his progress.
This journey back proved to be unexpectedly tranquil. Under any other conditions than the present worrying circumstances, he would have enjoyed it immensely. Bruce recovered sufficiently to know what was happening, but was still very weak. Some of his wounds, particularly in his legs, appeared to be festering. The majority, however, were healing nicely. Thane was also troubled by the appearance of the one or two wounds which he had himself received. The area round them was very swollen. His left arm, which had been pierced by three needles, was becoming very stiff. It occurred to him that these, and the wounds of Bruce’s legs were the ones he had attended to last. Obviously, the needles had poisonous properties, besides merely wounding ones, when left in too long.
It took them rather more than twenty-four hours to reach the foot of the climb leading to the plateau. Four more precious Demeter days gone! Another was passed transporting Bruce up the cliff and collecting equipment. With one arm practically useless, Thane would have had difficulty climbing up himself, without supporting his almost helpless companion. However, Wormald and Thursfield were ready with ropes, and the thousand feet back to the plateau were gradually overcome.
Immediately, they set to work to gather together insulated suits, together with more foot tablets and other necessities for making life possible under conditions of extreme cold. Then after a short rest, Wormald assisted Thane to transport the equipment to the raft, lowering it by ropes down sections of the climb.
Leaving Thursfield to look after Bruce, they set off down river.
Chapter 4
The voyage was beset with anxiety and fear that they would shoot past some opening or side turning that the other two had taken, and so miss them altogether. However, they travelled many miles without even the possibility of an alternative route opening up before them. Although using the raft was reasonably gentle and gave them time to look round. Before long, Wormald became as tired of the limited scenery as Bruce and Thane had been on the upward trip. They travelled all through the heat of the day as well as the night, taking it in turns to snatch a little sleep as well as they could on the raft.
“They can’t have got much further than this when we lost contact,” remarked Wormald.
“It’s time we contacted the ship again, isn’t it?” suggested Thane. It had been agreed to report every two hours this time and, so far, this had been faithfully observed.
Thursfield’s obvious relief at hearing Thane speak almost made him smile. “Nothing much to report,” he said. “We’re now approaching a slight change in the scenery. The river appears to bend round a peculiar, conical-shaped rock. I suppose ‘rock’ is hardly the term to use, since it looks more like a young mountain. It appears to be quite black from here. Perhaps when we get round the bend, we shall have something to report … How’s Bruce?”
> “Oh, he’s …” The rest of Thursfield’s reply was cut short. Vainly both Wormald and Arnot tried to contact him.
Suddenly, Thane jumped into action. “Quick, stop the raft and get ashore!” he cried. Luckily, there was room to land before the rock became too steep. Once ashore, Arnot was hurrying back in the direction they had come. About two hundred yards back and round the bend Wormald caught him up.
“That’s it!” Thane grinned. “Listen!”
Gathering that he was referring to the communications set, Wormald tuned in. There was Thursfield still anxiously calling after them. It had only taken a few minutes.
“Thank heavens!” he cried, gratefully. “What happened?”
“Well, that’s solved one mystery,” replied Arnot. “That rock must give out some kind of waves that our radio signals cannot penetrate. Once round it, we’re cut off. That’s what happened tot he others.”
“Oh, I see,” Thursfield sounded relieved for a moment, then became anxious once more. “But they should have turned back by now—particularly once they became aware something was wrong with their radios. Something must have happened to them.”
“I’m afraid you’re right. We shall just have to carry on, even though it means losing touch with you. There’s no alternative.”
“No,” said Thursfield, reluctantly. “Good luck.”
Returning to the raft, Arnot and Wormald continued their journey. In a short while, they realised that they were travelling at right angles to their original course. According to the rough map which had been made while passing over the area, they were cutting through the mountain range to the scene of their original disastrous attempt at landing.
The thought struck them simultaneously. Wormald voiced it first: “The river is flowing faster now, I suppose we’re getting pretty near that lake.”
“We had better anchor the raft and make our way on foot. The others had to anyway, apart from swimming now and again, so they can’t have got much further.”
“We ought to come across them any moment now, unless …” Wormald did not need to say what was in his mind “… unless even their dead bodies have disappeared.”
The going was difficult, as the way was obstructed by boulders of all sizes; and, often, they had to travel along small ledges due to the sides of the ravine through which the river flowed rising almost sheerly from the river bed.
Thane began to wonder if it was any use going on. Surely, even the lure of exploration would not have caused two level-headed people to continue on such an arduous journey with so little equipment, knowing that the time for return was near. He thought of the unguarded raft. If anything happened to it, their own chances of survival were not too rosy.
Scrambling over a particularly large outcrop of rack, they suddenly realised that the mountains were receding on either side and that they were through to the far side of the range.
“The river is very narrow just here. Look how fast it’s flowing now.” Arnot shouted above the rush of water.
“There’s something funny about it. We can see quite a distance now, but it just seems to disappear.” Wormald called back.
“You’re right. That patch of green I can just see must be the lake. But the river doesn’t seem to reach it.”
The ground was more level by that time, as the mountains gave way to a rocky plain. Boulders still impeded their progress, but there was room to avoid them. Then, suddenly, almost unexpectedly, their mission was accomplished At the same moment, the mystery of the disappearing river explained itself.
What at first had appeared to be two more boulders became obviously the bodies they were seeking, then discovered as they drew nearer. Sick at heart, yet cautious lest some similar fate should overtake them, Arnot and Wormald approached. A few yards away, the river roared down into an immense hole in the ground; but they scarcely noticed this.
“Look! One of them is tied up!” cried Wormald as, despite the gravity, the broke into a heavy trot.
“It’s Gordon—and I’m sure he moved.” Arnot breathed a silent prayer that Grant was alive, too. His prayer was answered as the doctor stumbled to his feet, looking as though he had been awakened from a sleep of exhaustion. His relief was apparent; but, instead of making the usual remarks to show it, he turned towards Dunstable.
“Don’t untie him, whatever you do. He’s out of his mind, poor chap.”
That had been Arnot’s intention, seeing that Courton was all right; but now he halted, struck by the wild expression in Dunstable’s eyes.
“He’s under the influence of some kind of gas that come out of the lake. Gordon was quite a way ahead of me, I suppose that’s how I escaped. He seemed about to collapse. Before I could reach him, the cloud dispersed, leaving him staggering blindly about. I had almost covered the distance between us, when he looked wildly round without seeming to see me, and started running in the direction of the lake. Luckily, he was still staggering like a drunken man and I managed to catch him up—just as he was about to throw himself into the lake. I had to restrain him by force, as you can see.”
A closer look at Dunstable confirmed Courton’s words. From momentarily rejoicing in having found them alive. Than now had to face the problem of transporting a raving lunatic, under the frightful pull of extra gravity, over the massive rocks, back to the raft. The faint chance they had of returning to the Unisphere in the nine remaining days, seemed to be fast disappearing.
“Do you think we can do it?” Wormald inquired anxiously.
“Grant and Gordon managed to get here in nine days. Still even if they were perfectly fit, they would have had difficulty in getting back again without the slightest help from the current, and it will help support Gordon—but we’ve got to reach it first.”
“Raft?” Courton immediately queried.“I was wondering how you got here so quickly.”
“I’ll tell you about it later. We must get a move on at once. Do you think, if we untied Gordon’s legs, and put a lead on him, we could make him walk in the right direction?”
It was hopeless, however. They tried blindfolding Dunstable; but he seemed instinctively to know in which direction the lake lay, and kicked and fought to escape it. Eventually, they almost completely immobilised him and resigned themselves to carrying him at a snail’s pace, back through the canyon to the raft.
Three precious days later, they reached it, stumbling and exhausted, having stopped to rest only when collapse was imminent for any one of them.
On the last day, they were forced to halt when complete darkness overtook them for about fifteen minutes. It was a warning that they were now at such an inclination towards the planet that its reflected light was reaching the satellite at an angle, part of it coinciding with the sunlight. The night side of the satellite was not completely turned towards the planet, so some pars were in complete darkness for a short while.
Wormald had taken charge by that time. Arnot’s former gruelling journey had taken it’s toll. His useless arm was worrying the doctor, who wished there was time to do something about it. Wormald had started off fresh from the ship, and his massive strength was carrying them all along. He had taken more than his share of supporting Dunstable.
Now in the final rest halt before continuing with the easier stage of their journey, he thought of the irony of it. He was guarding Dunstable. He had but to loosen his bonds, and he’d be rid of a hated enemy. No one could blame him for falling asleep under the circumstances; and it would not be the first time Dunstable had tried to get free on the journey.
Alternatively, he could perhaps arrange an accident on the raft. Bound as Dunstable was, he would drown quickly. The fact that Dunstable had once been a clergyman had put Wormald against him from the start. He could not forget that his wife’s death was partially due to her religious fanaticism, and her refusal to have a necessary blood transfusion.
Suddenly, he realised that it mattered to him that Gordon should return safely to the Unisphere. That, in fact, all of them should safely ret
urn. They were a team, challenging the unknown. Accepting Dunstable for the first time as one of the team, he no longer hated him, nor anyone else for that matter. In the world he had left far behind, he had felt contempt for the society of his fellow-men. When he returned he would be going home, his ties with the whole human race made stronger by the parting.
The journey upstream continued without incident for a further six days. They took it in turns to rest on the minute space left on the raft after precariously piling the equipment in the centre and propping Dunstable up against it at one end. There was just room for the worn out men to sit cramped, one at a time. Wormald saw to it that his own rest periods were only half that of the other two. Had it been possible for more to rest at a time, he would have insisted on taking his share of pulling the raft along completely on his own.
All of them shared the enforced rest during the minutes of darkness each night—which by then had gradually increased to an hour and a half. As the period of darkness lengthened. Wormald seriously considered carrying on the journey through the darkness, using the portable lighting equipment they had brought with them.
Dunstable was quieter than previously and took no interest at all in his surroundings. His mind seemed to be completely lost; their difficulties did not concern him, and he stared blankly ahead without even closing his eyes to sleep or so it seemed to the others. Even when his bonds were loosened for short periods, he made no attempt to escape.
Rounding the rock made it possible to call Thursfield once more. This gave them encouragement, the familiar voice making them feel almost safely back to the ship. The two-hourly contacts ere renewed and, as a result, the tension slightly lessened.
“Bruce is in a bad way,” Thursfield reported on his next call. “I’ll be glad when Grant can give him a look-over.
“If it’s anything like Thane’s arm, the sooner we get there the better.” answered the doctor, wearily.
The end of the six days left them still only half-way back. The sun gradually became eclipsed by the planet during the next few days and slipped away entirely. This left them completely dependent on the lessening reflected light from the planet; and on such artificial light as they had managed to include in the equipment on the raft.
