CHAPTER XV
IN THE GRIP OF TERROR
As the three pursuers steadily advanced, the thing roared oncemore, and again they heard the hammering, drumming boom. Zangamonwhispered some unintelligible phrase.
Allan projected the light forward again, and at sight of a movingmass, vague and intangible, among the gigantic fronds, leveled hisautomatic.
But on the instant Bremilu seized his arm.
"O master! Do not throw the fire of death!" he warned. "You cannotsee, but we can! Do not throw the fire!"
"Why not? What _is_ that thing?"
"It seems a man, yet it is different, master. It is all hair, and verythick and strong, and hideous! Do not shoot, O Kromno!"
"Why not?"
"Behold! That strange man-thing holds the woman, Beatrice, in his leftarm. Of a truth, you may kill her, and not the enemy."
Allan steadied himself against a palm. His brain seemed whirling, andfor a moment all grew vague and like a dream.
She was there--Beatrice was there, and they could see her. There, inthe clutches of some monster, horrible and foul! Living yet? _Dead?_
"Tell me! Does she live?"
"We cannot say, O Kromno. But do not shoot. We will creep close--we,ourselves, will slay, and never touch the woman."
"No, no! If you do he'll strangle her--provided she still lives! Don'tgo! Wait! Let me think a second."
With a tremendous effort Allan mastered himself. The situation farsurpassed, in horror, any he had ever known.
There not a hundred yards distant in the dense blackness was Beatrice,in the grip of some unknown and hideous creature. Advance, Allan darednot, lest the creature rend her to tatters. Shoot, he dared not.
Yet something must be done, and quickly, for every second, everyfraction of a second, was golden. The merest accident might now meandeath or life--life, if the girl still lived!
"Zangamon!"
"Yea, master?"
"Be very bold! Do my bidding!"
"Speak only the word, Kromno, and I obey!"
"Go you, then, very quietly, very swiftly, to the other side of thesegreat growing things--these trees, we call them. Then call, so thatthis thing shall turn toward you. Thus, I may shoot, and perhaps notkill the woman. It is the only way!"
"I hear, master. I go!"
Allan and Bremilu waited, while from the thicket came, at intervals,the savage snuffling, with now and then a grumbling mutter.
All at once a call sounded from far ahead.
"Come!" commanded Allan. Together he and Bremilu crept through thejungle toward the thicket.
Wide-eyed, yet seeing almost nothing, Allan crawled noiselessly,automatic in hand. The Merucaan slid along, silent as an Apache.
"Tell me if you see the thing again--if you see it turn!" whisperedStern. "Tell me, for you can see."
Now the distance was cut in half; now only a third of it remained.Before Stern it seemed a fathomless pit of black was opening. Underthe close-woven arches of the giant fern-trees the night wasimpenetrable.
And as yet he dared not dart the light-beam into that pit of darkness,for fear of precipitating an unthinkable tragedy--if, indeed, thehorror had not already been cons summated.
But now Bremilu gripped his arm. Afar, on the other side of thethicket, they heard a singular commotion, cries, shouts, and thevigorous beating of the fern-trees.
"The thing has turned, master!" the Merucaan exclaimed, at Allan'sside. "Now throw the fire-death! Etvur! Quickly, throw!"
Stern swept the thicket with his beam.
"Ah! There--_there!_"
The light caught a moving, hairy mass of brown--a huge, squat,terrible creature, its back now toward them. At one side Stern saw avague blackness--the long, unbound hair of Beatrice!
He glimpsed a white arm dangling limp; and in his breast the heartflamed at white-heat of rage and passion.
But his hand was steel. Never in his life had he drawn so fine a bead.
"Hold the light for me!" he whispered, passing it to his companion. "Iwant both hands for this!"
Bremilu held the beam true, blinking strangely with his pink eyes.Stern, resting his pistol hand in the hollow of his left elbow,sighted true.
A fraction of a hair to the left, and the bullet might crash throughthe brain of Beatrice!
"Oh, God--if there be any God--speed the shot true--" he prayed, andfired.
A hideous yell, ripping the night to shreds, burst in a raw and risingdiscord through the forest--a scream as of a damned soul flung uponthe brimstone.
Then, as he glimpsed the white arm falling and knew the thing hadloosed its grip, the light died. Bremilu, starting at the suddendischarge close to his ear, had pressed the ivory button.
Stern snatched for the flash-lamp, fumbled it, and dropped it thereamong the lush growths underfoot.
Before he could more than stoop to feel for it a heavy crash throughthe wood told that the thing was charging.
With bubbling yells it came, trampling the undergrowth, drumming onits huge breast, gibbeting with demoniac rage and pain--came swiftly,like the terrific things that people nightmares.
Behind it, shouts echoed. Stern heard the voice of Zangamon as, spearin hand, the Merucaan pursued.
He raised his revolver once more, but dared not fire.
Yet only an instant he hesitated, in the fear of killing Zangamon.
For, quick-looming through the darkness, a huge bulk, panting,snarling, chattering, sprang--an avalanche of muscle, bone, fur, madwith murder--rage.
_Crack!_ spoke the automatic, point-blank at this rushing horror, thisblacker shadow in the blackness.
The fire-stab revealed a grinning white-fanged face close to his own,and clutching hands, and terrible, thick, hairy arms.
Then something hurled itself on Stern; something bore himbackward--something beside which his strength was as ababy's--something vast, irresistible, hideous beyond all telling.
Stern felt the flesh of his left arm ripped up. Crushed, doubled,impotent, he fell.
And at his throat long fingers clutched. A fetid, stinking breathgushed hot upon his face. He heard the raving chatter of ivories,snapping to rend him.
Up sprang another shadow. High it swung a weapon. The blow thuddedhollow, smashing, annihilating.
Hot liquid gushed over Allan's hand as he sought to beat the monsterback.
Then, fair upon him, fell a crushing weight.
Swooning, he knew no more.
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