CHAPTER VIII. A DUEL TO THE DEATH.
Professor Featherwit nodded assent, and, after a brief chuckle, Waldoresumed:
"You can take all those big fellows with the jaw-breaking names, but asfor me, smaller game will do. Maybe a fellow couldn't fill his bag quiteso full, nor quite so suddenly, but there would be a great deal moresport, and a mighty sight less danger, I take it!"
It was by no means difficult to divine that the professor had not yetspoken all that busied his brain, but the thread was broken, his pipewas out, and, emptying the ashes by tapping pipe-bowl against the heelof his shoe, he rose erect, once more the man of action.
"You will have to clear up, lads, for I must make such few repairs asare necessary to restore the aerostat to a state of efficiency. So longas that remains in serviceable condition, we will always have a methodof advance or retreat. Without it--well, I'd rather not think of thealternative."
That dry tone and quiet sentence did more than all else to impressthe brothers with a sense of their unique position. Back came theremembrance of all they had gathered concerning this strange scopeof country since first settling down fairly within the shadows of theOlympics, there to put that strange machine together, preparing for whatwas to prove a wonder-tour through many marvellous happenings.
Times beyond counting they had been assured by the natives that nomortal could fairly penetrate that vast wilderness. Natural obstacleswere too great for any man to surmount, without saying aught of what laybeyond; of the enormous animals, such as the civilised world never knewor fought with; of the terrible natives, taller than the pines, largerthan the hills, more powerful by far than the gods themselves, eager toslay and to devour,--so eager that, at times, living flesh and blood wasmore grateful than all to their depraved tastes!
"Do you really reckon there is anything in it all, Bruno?" asked theyounger brother in lowered tones, glancing across to where their unclewas busily engaged in those comparatively trifling repairs.
"It hardly seems possible, and yet--would the members of four differenttribes tell a story so nearly alike, without they had at least afoundation of truth to go upon?"
"That's right. And yet--the inland sea sounds natural enough. We know,too, that there are such things as underground rivers, outside of JulesVerne's yarns. But those animals,--or reptiles,--which?"
"Both, I believe," answered Bruno, with a subdued laugh.
"That's all right, old man. I never was worth a continental when it cameto such things. I prefer to live in the present, and so--well, now, willyou just look at that old cow!"
In surprise Waldo pointed across to where a bovine shape showed not farbeyond the pool at the base of the miniature waterfall; but his brotherhad a fairer view, and, instantly divining the truth, grasped an arm andhastily whispered:
"Hush, boy; can't you see? It's a buffalo, a hill buffalo, and--"
"Quick! the guns are in the machine! Down, Bruno, and maybe we can get ashot and--"
His eager whisper was cut short, though not by grip of arm or act byhis brother. A rumbling roar broke forth from the further side of thatmountain stream, and as the dense bushes beyond were violently agitated,the hill buffalo wheeled that way with marvellous rapidity.
Just as a long head and mighty shoulders spread the shrubbery wideapart, jaws opening and lips curling back to lay great teeth bare, whileanother angry sound, half growl, half snort, only too clearly proclaimedthat monster of the mountains, a grizzly bear.
"Smoke o' sacrifice!" gasped Waldo, as the grizzly suddenly upreared itsmighty bulk, head wagging, paws waving in queer fashion, lolling tonguelending the semblance of drollery rather than viciousness.
"This way; to your guns, boys!" cautiously called out the professor,whose notice had likewise been caught by those unusual sounds, and whohad already armed himself with his pet dynamite gun.
"Careful! He'll make a break for us at first sight, unless--down close,and crawl for it, brother!"
Bruno set the good example, and Waldo was not too proud of spirit tohumble himself in like manner. Although this was their first glimpseof "Old Eph" in his native wilds, both brothers entertained a veryrespectful opinion of his prowess.
Under different circumstances their expectations might have been morefully met, but just now the grizzly seemed wholly occupied with thebuffalo bull, whose sturdy bulk and armed front so resolutely opposedhis further progress towards that common goal, the pool of water.
The boys quickly reached the flying-machine and gripped the Winchesterrifles which Professor Featherwit had drawn forth from the locker atfirst sight of the dangerous game. Thus armed, they felt ready forwhatever might come, and stood watching yonder rivals with growinginterest.
"Will you look at that, now?" excitedly breathed Waldo, eyes aglow, ashe saw the bull cock its tail on high and tear up the soft soil with onefierce sweep of its cloven hoof, shaking head and giving vent to a lowbut determined bellow.
"It means a fight unto the death, I think," whispered the professor.
"It's dollars to doughnuts on the bear," predicted Waldo. "Scat, youbull-headed idiot! Don't you know that you're not deuce high to his ace?Can't you see that he can chew you up like--"
"Are you mighty sure of all that, boy?" laughingly cut in Bruno; for atthat moment the buffalo made a sudden charge at his upright adversary,knocking the grizzly backward in spite of its viciously flying paws.
"Great Peter on a bender! If I ever--no, I never!"
Even the professor was growing excited, holding the dynamite gun underone arm while gently tapping palms together as an encore.
Naturally enough, their sympathies were with the buffalo, since the oddsseemed so immensely against him; but their delight was short-lived, for,instead of following up the advantage so bravely won, the bull fell backto paw and bellow and shake his shaggy front.
With marvellous activity for a brute of his enormous bulk and weight,the grizzly recovered its feet, then lumbered forward with clashingteeth and resounding growls.
Nothing loath, the buffalo met that charge, and for a short space oftime the struggle was veiled by showers of leaf-mould and damp dirt castupon the air as the rivals fought for supremacy--and for life.
For that this was destined to be a duel to the very death not one ofthose spectators could really doubt. That encounter may have been purelyaccidental, but the creatures fought like enemies of long standing.
As their relative positions changed, the buffalo contrived to get inanother vigorous butt, sending bruin end for end down that gentle slopeto souse into the pool of water, that cool element cutting short asavage roar of mad fury.
Then the trio of spectators could take notes, and with something ofsorrow they saw that the buffalo had already suffered severely, bleedingfrom numerous great gashes torn by the grizzly's long talons, while onebloody eye dangled below its socket, held only by a thread of sinew.
Nor had bruin escaped without hurt, as all could see when he flounderedout of the water, bent upon renewing the duel; but there was little roomleft for doubting what the ultimate result would be were the animalsleft to their own devices.
Like all bold, free-hearted lads, Waldo ever sympathised with theweaker, and now, unable to hold his feelings in check, he gave a shortcry, levelling his Winchester and opening fire upon the grizzly, just asit won fairly clear of the water.
Stung to fury by those pellets, the brute reared up with a horrid roar,turning as though to charge this new enemy; but ere he could do more,the professor's gun spoke, and as the dynamite shell exploded, bruinfell back a writhing mass, his head literally smashed to pieces.
Heedless of all else, the wounded buffalo charged with lusty bellow,goring that quivering mass with unabated fury, though its life wasclearly leaking out through those ghastly cuts and slashes.
A brief pause, then Professor Featherwit swiftly reloaded his gun,sending another shell across the stream, this time more as a boon thanas punishment.
Smitten fairly in the forehead, the b
ull dropped as though beneath abolt of lightning, life going out without so much as a single struggleor a single pang.
"Twas better thus," declared the professor, as Waldo gave a littleejaculation of dismay. "He must have bled to death in a short time, andthis was true mercy. Besides, buffalo meat is very good eating, and theday may come when we shall need all we can get. Who knows?"
After the animals were inspected, and due comment made upon the awfullysure work wrought by the dynamite gun, the professor suggested that,while he was completing repairs upon the aeromotor, the brothers shouldsecure a supply of fish and of flesh, cooking sufficient to provide forseveral meals, for there was no telling just when they would have anequal chance.
"Just as soon as we can put all in readiness," he continued, "I am goingto leave this spot. My first wish is to thoroughly test the aerostat,to make certain it has received no serious injury. Then, if all promiseswell, I mean to begin our tour of exploration, hoping that we may, atleast, find something well worthy the strange reputation given theseOlympics by the natives."
Without raising any objections, the brothers fell to work, Bruno lookingafter the flesh, while Waldo undertook to supply the fish. That was butfair, since he had been cheated out of catching the first mess.
Not a little to his delight, the professor found that the flying-machinewould promptly answer his touch and will, rising easily off the ground,then descending at call, evidently having passed through the ordeal ofthe bygone evening without serious harm.
Still, all this consumed time, and it was after a late dinner thateverything was pronounced in readiness for an ascension: the meat andfish nicely cooked and packed for carriage, a pot of strong coffee madeand stowed beyond risk of leakage, the flying-machine itself quiveringin that gentle breeze as though eager to find itself once more afloatfar above the earth and its obstructions to easy navigation.
Waldo expressed some grief at leaving a spot where game came in suchplentitude to find the hunter, and trout simply longed to be caught; butupon being assured of other opportunities, perhaps even more delightful,he sighed and gave consent to mount into space.
"Only--don't ask me to tackle any of those big dictionary fellows suchas you talked about this morning, uncle Phaeton, for I simply can't;they'd get away with my baggage while I was trying to spell their namesand title--and all that!"
Without any difficulty the aeromotor was sent out of and above theforest, heading towards the northwest; that is, direct for the heart ofthe Olympics, of whose marvels Professor Featherwit held such exaltedhopes and expectations.
Grim and forbidding those mountains looked as the air-ship sailedswiftly over them, opening up a wider view when the bare, rugged crestwas once left fairly to the rear. Save for those bald crowns, all belowappeared a solid carpet of tree-tops, now lower, there higher, yet everthe same: seemingly impenetrable to man, should such an effort be made.
Once fairly within the charmed circle, leaving the rocky ridge behind,Professor Featherwit slackened speed, permitting the ship to driftonward at a moderate pace, one hand touching the steering-gear, whileits fellow held a pair of field-glasses to his eager eyes.
All at once he gave a half-stifled cry, partly rising in his excitement,then crying aloud in thrilling tones:
"The sea,--an inland sea!"
The Lost City Page 8
