That day they met a new enemy: jet-black lizards, five feet long, that
clung to the black tree-boles, perfectly camouflaged, till the party
came close. Then the reptiles flashed toward them, fanged jaws gaping.
Constant alertness was all that saved them--that, and the blazing guns
that killed the monsters.
Presence of the lizards was no respite from the other perils. The
bloodsucker plants were more numerous, and the camouflage-moss made
deceptively inviting paths through the red gloom. By dark, everyone
was nearly exhausted, nerves worn to rags. Garth knew it would not take
much for the men to explode into furious resentment against him.
Luckily, an hour after they had made camp, Captain Brown woke from
his drugged trance, perfectly normal. But it took a while to make him
understand what had happened.
For the first time Garth saw Brown lose his iron self-control, and
then it was only for a moment. A flash of stark horror showed on the
Captain's lean, hard face, to be gone instantly.
He lit a cigaret, his eyes brooding on Paula and Garth. Briefly he
glanced past them to the men, preparing their rations.
"Uh-huh. Not so good. I suppose it's useless to think of traveling by
night."
"It's impossible," Garth told him.
"You can make more antitoxin?"
"Sure--but not here. It's too dangerous. We've been safe so far because
we've moved fast, camping at a different spot every night. If we holed
up, we'd have a gang of monsters down on us in no time."
Brown considered. "It's a nasty business, having my own body go back
on me. A bit of a shock. Well--" He let smoke drift from his nostrils.
"Two more days ahead of us, eh? Then we reach the lost city."
"If it is a city. We don't even know that."
"But we do know there may be Zarno around. We'll have to arrive there
soon after dark, so I'll be ... conscious. If there's a fight, I want
to be in on it. Why the devil didn't you test that antitoxin, Garth?"
His voice was harshly angry.
Garth didn't answer. Brown had given him the rush act, but he wasn't
making any excuses.
Paula said, "This isn't the best time to quarrel. You'd better talk to
the men, Carver, so there'll be no trouble tomorrow."
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so."
Even the rebellious Sampson was convinced by Brown's well-chosen
remarks.
They slept uneasily, with guards replaced every two hours, and the next
day woke to find Captain Brown once more sunk into his Noctoli-trance.
A few of the men complained of headaches.
By mid-morning Paula succumbed to the poison. Garth did not realize
at first what had happened. Then, turning, he saw the girl's blank
face and wide eyes fixed straight ahead as she marched along, and knew
that she was entranced by the Noctoli till nightfall. The exercise of
walking, speeding metabolism, had hastened the action of the virus.
They went on. An hour later another man went under. Then another. By
noon only five men, including Garth and Sampson, were still conscious.
Their difficulties increased proportionately. They had to be on guard
every second. The Noctoli victims walked quietly in line, but they did
not react to danger. If the tentacles of a bloodsucker plant flashed
out, they wouldn't try to escape. Their instinct of self-preservation
had been dulled and blanketed.
The afternoon was pure hell. Garth, Sampson, and one other man had to
guard and lead the rest. Their guns crashed incessantly, it seemed.
When they camped at the onset of darkness, Sampson and Garth alone
remained.
* * * * *
The red-haired giant, swaying on his feet, squinted at Garth, his face
haggard with exhaustion.
"Nice going," he said sardonically, after a time. "What now? Maybe we'd
better cut our throats."
Garth managed a shaky grin. "We're still okay. And there's only one
more day left. Tomorrow--we'll make it then. We've got to."
Unwilling admiration showed in Sampson's eyes. "You're dead on your
feet. I don't see how the hell you keep up this pace. Anyhow--we can't
go back now. That's settled, anyway."
"Yeah. The others will wake up after a while. We'll have to stay on
guard till then."
They did, guns drawn, peering at the silent depths of the Forest around
them, while the rest of the party lay motionless, helpless against
attack.
After a time Sampson spoke. Garth could not see his face in the heavy
gloom.
"What are you after, Garth?"
"Eh?"
"I had you ticketed wrong. A beachcomber.... There must be something
plenty important where we're going, or you wouldn't be so anxious to
get there. What is it? Treasure, of course, but--jewels? Or what?"