“Come on,” I whispered, “I don’t know where this tunnel leads to, but
let us at least go down it as far as possible, and perhaps barricade
ourselves with _your_ umbrella at the bottom.”
So we resumed our crawl. The way seemed endless; but the further we went
the more my spirits brightened.
“Princess,” I said, “it is very likely that they will miss the tunnel in
their digging. Or, if they find it, they will have the spider to cope
with, for he seems to be a wild species, and not the domestic kind which
the Formians keep to guard their herds of aphids. Or, if they get by the
spider, they may hesitate to crawl through a dark tunnel. Come on!”
The air smelled stale and musty, but at last, to our surprise, began to
get fresh again. And then the ground felt rough under my knees. A twig
snapped, and I found that I could stand erect. We were out in the woods
again! And no Formian pursuers within sight or earshot.
Close beside the exit was a thicket of tartan bushes, that plant with
the large heart-shaped leaf so beloved of the purple grasshoppers.
“The safest place for us,” I whispered, “will be right here by the mouth
of the tunnel. If they follow us through they will never think to look
for us close at hand, and the thickness of the foliage will prevent
their discovering us accidentally.”
So together we plunged into the center of this bower of hearts. Then we
lay down and listened.
Presently we heard voices at the mouth of the tunnel, and I heard the
crashing of the ants in the underbrush, but so thick was our leafy
covering that we could not catch even a glimmer of their spotlights.
Their voices became fainter and fainter in the distance, and at last we
knew we were safe, at least for this night. But, as their conversation
died away, another sound came to our antennae: the distant howl of a
woofus, answered from another quarter by the cry of his mate. Lilla
shuddered at my side as we listened to this new menace grow nearer and
nearer.
But at last this, too, died away; and when my straining ears could no
longer catch the slightest sound of it I was surprised to find that I
was holding the princess clasped tightly in both my arms.
She, too, noticed where she was, and yet made no effort to draw away.
“I was so frightened, Myles,” said she softly. “You will take care of
me, won’t you, dear?”
For answer I held her close. She heaved a little sigh, and like a tired
baby nestled down to sleep in my arms.
And thus, all through the perfumed tropical night, I held and watched
over the beautiful creature who had made life on Poros mean more to me
than it had ever meant on earth.
“Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” I thought, “for she is the princess
royal of all Cupia; and you, for all that the professors have decided,
may not be even human!”
The fairy orchestra of the wood grasshoppers played its sweetest
wind-bell tunes, which earthly ears alone could hear. Delicate
fragrances crept in on an occasional breeze. The night was velvet soft.
And in my arms lay sweetly breathing, in perfect peace and trust, the
dearest being any world could hold.
Thus we lay in our bower of leafy hearts, until the invisible sun rose
over Poros the next morning. When Lilla finally awakened it was with the
sweet dewey smile of a little child.
I kissed her lightly on the cheek, and she smiled again and said: “You
are very good to me, Myles Cabot; better than I deserve, who treated you
so.”
“It is morning, my princess,” said I, “and we must be on our way.”
She gave a slight shudder. “That is so,” she regally replied. “I _am_ a
princess.”
The spell was broken, and we arose, and set out together through the
wood, traveling due west, for we had left the road on the east side the
night before. In this way I hoped to reach the road again and continue
along it to the border. We were able to tell the points of the compass
in the early morning light, owing to the pinkness of the eastern sky and
the darkness of the western.
Reaching the road in safety, we set out northward along it, I blessing
my sense of hearing which enabled me to keep a keen ear out for
approaching kerkools, each one of which we dodged by hiding in the woods
at the side of the road.
In this manner, we kept on without further adventure for the entire day,
slaking our thirst at an occasional brook, and staving off hunger by
means of certain edible plants with which the princess was well
acquainted.
At last, on topping a slight rise, we saw before us a long wall
stretching away out of sight in the distance to both right and left.
“Is this the pale of which I had heard so much?” I asked.
“It is,” Lilla replied, “and beyond it lies Cupia, and safety. Look!
Directly before us at the foot of the hill is the Third Gate.”
With a cry of joy, we rushed down the hill, hand in hand together. Sure
enough, there stood Yuri talking with the Cupian sentinel. Just beyond
the gate stood a kerkool.
Yuri greeted the princess respectfully and assisted her into the car,
the sentinel offering no objection.
But as I sought to follow her, the sentinel stepped before me and drew a
short broadsword, which he held menacingly in his hand.
“Yuri,” I called, “this guard won’t let me pass. Please tell him that it
is all right.”
Yuri turned around in his seat in the car, and gradually a mocking smile
spread over his features. Then he spoke to the sentinel.
“I don’t know the fellow,” he declared. “Probably he is an escaped
Cupian slave. You had better arrest him.”
The princess shrieked, Yuri’s car shot ahead, and they disappeared
northward, leaving me staring after them with mouth agape.
Perhaps I could have argued it out, or even fought it out with my bare
hands, with the Cupian sentinel; but at that minute a Formian sentinel
emerged from the guardhouse at the gate, to take his tour of duty.
Together the pair seized and shackled me, and placed me in a cell.
Thus, just as my hopes had been highest, they were dashed to the ground.
Here was I, alone, in chains, still in Formia, awaiting transportation
to the south again; while my beloved, free, was speeding northward with
my deceitful rival!
_10_
before Queen Formis
And so, while my princess was borne northward by her cousin and lover,
Prince Yuri, I was led southward in chains, a prisoner charged with high
treason against the Ant Empire. Yuri had tricked me, and had used me as
a cat’s-paw to rescue his sweetheart from her captors. But if I had not
been so blindly in love, I should have seen through him, and could have
married Lilla at peace under Formian auspices.
Yet, somehow, I did not feel sorry for what I had done. I had set Lilla
free. I had won her love and trust for one night, and I was prepared to
pay the penalty. In fact, I was _glad_ to pay the penalty, for I
realized that marriage between her, a princess, and me, a commoner,
would of course never have been possible.
Back in my old room again in Wautoosa! It seemed like home, somehow; and
yet how different from before, for now I was no longer a guest, but a
prisoner.
Tabby, my pet buntlote, was glad to smell me again; and my conscience
gave me a twinge for having so unceremoniously left her behind. Yet if I
had taken her with me, what would have become of her in the wreck of the
kerkool and the flight through the spider’s tunnel?
Doggo was overwhelmed with grief at the jam I was in; and he was
reproachful, too.
“Why did you do it?” he would ask again and again; and, in spite of my
repeated and detailed explanations, would reiterate: “Why did you do it,
when all was going so well here?”
Guards were placed over me again, as on my first arrival on the planet.
But this time, instead of being high ranking officers such as Doggo,
they were mere common soldier ants, who jested coarsely at me and
without sympathy.
I complained to Doggo, and he promptly put a stop to their tormenting;
and, when they found that I was still in the good graces of one of their
eklats, they became on the surface quite deferential, although they
continued to annoy me in many petty and underhanded ways.
Doggo spent a great deal of his time with me, and kept me posted on the
latest news from Kuana, the capital of Cupia. In fact, he even
dispatched one of his bar-pootahs to ascertain for me just how the
princess fared.
Report had it that the princess was almost constantly in the company of
Prince Yuri, and that he was hailed as a popular hero for having rescued
her. That she seemed unaccountably sad—which item cheered me. That the
king was momentarily expected to announce her betrothal to Prince
Yuri—which item did not cheer me. That an influential faction, headed by
Prince Toron, insisted upon an explanation being demanded from Queen
Formis because of the detention of Princess Lilla by the ant-men. And
that only the new popularity of Prince Yuri was able to control this
movement of his younger brother.
Oh, what a fool I had been not to have told Lilla that Yuri had been
responsible for her imprisonment at Wautoosa! Now, of course, she
believed him a hero, rather than the scoundrel he was. But how could he
satisfactorily explain to her his repudiation of me?
No, if she retained the slightest friendly feeling for me, she could not
regard him as anything other than a double-crossing crook. And did not
the reports state that she seemed sad? Why else than either because of
my fate or because she did not look forward with pleasure to a union
with Yuri? But if the latter, then why did she associate with him? It
must be that he was holding over her head a threat of some sort. My poor
princess of the butterfly wings and graceful antennae!
I tried to get word to her, but Doggo informed me that criminals were
not allowed the privilege of letter-writing.
My interest was so centered in the beautiful Lilla that it never
occurred to me to inquire as to my own fate, but Doggo insisted on
bringing it to my attention. He had obtained his own assignment as my
defense counsel, and so it was up to him to discuss with me the coming
trial.
I was accused of high treason against the empire, in that I had assisted
in the escape of a Cupian slave, had uttered a forged pass, had
obstructed the highway, had nearly run down a pinqui, and
had—presumably—slandered the Formians to a member of the royal house of
Cupia.
Doggo said that I clearly had no defense, as all the items, except the
slander, were easily provable; but that he should attempt to argue that
the accusations were void for inconsistency, due to the fact that the
same person was described in them as being both a slave and royalty. So
far as I was concerned, this line of defense seemed absolute bunk, but
no more so than many equally silly sounding legal rules on earth.
The trial was to take place at the Imperial City before Queen Formis and
the Council of Twelve, for apparently I had committed a most important
and serious crime. In case of conviction, which seemed certain, Her
Majesty would have the choice of two punishments. First, laying eggs in
me, Or secondly, casting me into “The Valley of the Howling Rocks.” Both
sounded very interesting and were reserved for the worst criminals.
All of the ant-men of the entire nation of Formia are raised from eggs
laid by the ruling monarch. The vocation of any given ant-man is
determined long before he is hatched, or even before his egg is laid.
From an elaborate system of records, kept in the Imperial City, the
Council of Twelve is able to determine, as to each batch of eggs,
whether it should produce professors, farmers, laborers, officers,
soldiers, servants, or what; and the eggs are accordingly laid in
appropriate food. Sort of “tell me what you eat, and I will tell you
what you are.”
The young ants, when fully grown and in the cocoon stage, are
transported by truckloads to the part of the empire where they are to be
trained and where their life is to be spent. Thus the pupae for soldiers
and officers are sent to Wautoosa, for instance.
Not only is occupation determined in advance, but so also, to a large
extent, is sex. Thus only enough males are produced to supply the
queen’s harem, the rest of the royal offspring being sexless females.
Whenever a queen dies, the council immediately chooses several likely
larvae and changes their food so as to produce fully developed females;
the first of these to reach maturity being queen, and the rest being
killed.
The food chosen for the production of the higher classes of ant-men
consists of condemned criminals. This was where I came in.
At this point in the explanation an idea occurred to me.
“Do you really mean to say, Doggo,” I gasped, “that you are a lady and
not a man—that the whole nation of Formians are females?”
“Yes,” he replied, “and furthermore the more highly developed of us
occasionally lay eggs, though of course we never try to hatch them, for
that would be even worse a treason than the one with which _you_ are
charged. I myself even have laid eggs, but it is generally supposed that
such eggs would not hatch.”
I could hardly believe it. A nation of Amazons! I could not help
continuing to regard them as males.
But to go on with the alternative penalties. I have described the
egg-laying. The other penalty, namely the Valley of the Howling Rocks,
supplied a most diabolical form of punishment. This valley extends about
a mile along the international boundary line, so that the pale stops at
one end and begins again at the other. Its sides are steep and
unscalable, and into it are cast the worst criminals of both countries.
Some undetermined natural cause within the valley sets up such a
terrific din that the victims are driven crazy and perish because of the
sound.
I thought that I should prefer any noise, however awful, to the
alternative of having eggs laid in me; but Doggo assured me that the
valley was by far the worse of the two. However, my wishes finally
prevailed, and Doggo promised to try and secure the valley punishment,
in event of a conviction.
In due course the time arrived for the trial, and I was led in chains to
the Imperial City. Doggo accompanied me, and brought along Tabby, too,
to console me. For some reason I could not get at all excited over the
performance, it seemed so absurdly like the trial of “Alice in
Wonderland.” As she is reported to have exclaimed, “Why, you’re nothing
but a pack of cards!” so I was often tempted to exclaim, “Why, you’re
nothing but a nest of ants!”
As a matter of fact, I was much more interested in how my princess was
getting on than I was in my own impending fate.
On the day of the trial I was led into the awful presence of Queen
Formis. She stood nearly twice the size of any other Formian, and her
dignity was enhanced by a raised platform surmounted by a scarlet
canopy, which set off the perfect proportions of her jet-black body.
Grouped on each side of her stood six ant-men, whose refined and
intelligent appearance made even my professional friends of the
University of Mooni look like common worker ants by comparison.
Ant messengers hurried to and fro, doing the bidding of the dread
thirteen; while several large clumsy ants, of a type which I had never
seen before, wandered aimlessly about the chamber.
“The Royal Husbands,” Doggo informed me.
So these were the drones of Formia. They were very stupid looking
fellows, who appeared to be accorded great privileges but no deference.
My jailers led me to the foot of the throne, where, under instructions
from Doggo, I made a low obeisance to the Queen. Then I was locked into
a wicker cage at one side, and the trial began.
First, one of the council read the accusation, and then the witnesses
were called, each being permitted to tell his story in his own way, and
not being subjected to cross-examination by Doggo; though any member of
the court could ask him questions. On the whole, the procedure seemed
much fairer than a trial on earth. For the evident object here was to
ascertain the whole truth, unhampered by rules of evidence, rather than
to afford a sparring match between rival attorneys.
The keeper of the kerkool-ool at Wautoosa testified in substance as
follows: “The prisoner came at me unawares, overcame me, and trussed me
up in a corner, where it took me a parth and a half to escape from my
bonds. While I lay bound, Cabot stole Prince Yuri’s car. I saw no one
with Cabot, and in fact did not see Cabot take the car, but I judged
that he took it, for later I found it gone.”
“I object!” I cried.
“Keep quiet!” Doggo growled.
No one else paid any attention to my interruption.
The witness continued: “Immediately upon getting loose I notified the
winko.”
One of the winko’s attendants then took the stand and corroborated him
in this. It was a well-framed-up story, and I had no inclination to get
the keeper of the kerkool-ool into trouble by disputing it.
The traffic sentinel ant gave an exact and straightforward account of
how he had stopped us and had trapped me into many damaging statements.
Also how I had tried to run him down with kerkool, which was not exactly
the truth; but doubtless it had seemed that way to him. Then he produced
the forged pass, which was handed around and carefully inspected by the
council.
Several ant-men then testified as to their pursuit of us, including the
wrecking of their own car by means of ours. They had tried to dig into
the tunnel and had failed, so they killed the spider with a long pole.
They had confidently expected to find us behind the umbrella. Never
before having seen a double-ended spider cave, they had not scattered
through the woods to cut off our retreat.
Even so, they could not account for our escape, especially as they had
kept the road from there to the border constantly patrolled by kerkools
from that time on until my arrest at the Third Gate. You see, they had
slipped up by not realizing that I possessed the sense of hearing, which
had enabled me to avoid the patrols.
The _Cupian_ sentinel at the Third Gate had claimed his official
privilege of refusing to testify, but the _ant_ sentinel quoted his
Cupian colleague as saying that he had let the Princess Lilla pass
through because he had no authority over members of the royal family,
but had duly arrested me as required by law. No mention was made of
Prince Yuri’s presence at the gate to “rescue” her from me.
I tried to get Doggo to object on the ground of hearsay, for this was
the first and only attempt by the prosecution at identifying my
companion in flight, and hence was most damaging; but Doggo replied that
hearsay testimony was perfectly allowable on Poros, unless one could
impeach either the absent or the present witness. How much more sensible
than the rule in America.
Then I was called upon.
“Do I have to take the stand?” I asked.
“No,” answered Doggo, “but if you don’t your silence will be used
against you.”
Again a more sensible rule than that which prevails in America; only all
these Formian improvements over American criminal practice were
decidedly to my own disadvantage.
I was just about to tell how Yuri had planned Lilla’s rescue with me
when something stayed me. I wish now that it had not, for to have told
the truth at this time would have prevented a tragedy which later
occurred! But my New England spirit of fair play deterred me, and I
decided to settle with Yuri myself and personally; though how I ever
hoped to escape from the ants, in order to do so, I did not stop to
consider.
So I spoke as follows: “Everything testified so far is the truth. But I
wish to ask Your Majesty, in all respect, just what justification had
Formia to detain the Princess of Cupia as a slave? You should have
treated her as visiting royalty; and in that capacity she had a perfect
right to command my assistance, and I had a perfect right to obey. Let
me tell the rulers of Formia that—”
But I got no further, for the queen thundered: “Stop! I find the
prisoner guilty by his own admission. Further evidence is superfluous,
and I shall proceed to sentence. Has any one any suggestions to make on
_this_ subject?”
Whereupon my old friend the Professor of Anatomy stepped forward. Doggo
had evidently primed him to do me a good turn, for he said:
“The prisoner is neither a Cupian nor a Formian, nor is it apparent just
what sort of animal he is. He seems to be a reasoning species, and so
can be tried for a crime and accorded the same privileges of trial as in
the case of a member of either of the two recognized reasoning species
of this planet. But, as he is an unknown type of creature, it is
extremely likely that his flesh would prove harmful to the royal babies.
Accordingly, for the good of the Empire, I advise that Your Majesty
impose the more severe of the alternative sentences, namely, the Valley
of the Howling Rocks.”
As no one else present had any suggestion to make, Queen Formis and the
council conferred together for a few moments, and then the sentence was
announced. As I hoped, it was the Valley. The professor had done well!
Convicted criminals on Poros are not kept in suspense day after day, as
on earth. We started for the Valley the very next morning. Apparently an
execution is an important state occasion on this planet, for a long line
of kerkools trailed out of the Imperial City, carrying the queen,
several of the council, and some lesser dignitaries, as well as Doggo,
Tabby, myself, and my guards.
Doggo was deeply touched by grief. But, for myself, I was still unable
to get up any very great excitement over the affair. Perhaps I am a
fatalist, but I could not believe that I was really going to die. It all
seemed like a dream from which I was soon about to awake. And even if I
should appear to die on this planet, was it not likely that I would
awake on the earth again in my Boston laboratory, and thus put an end to
a very interesting set of imaginary adventures?
But at this thought a pang stabbed my heart, and I resolved that I had
rather actually die than have it turn out that my meeting with the
Princess Lilla had not been a fact.
The authorities permitted me to write her a note of farewell, and Doggo
guaranteed to deliver it personally, thus assuring that it would get
past Yuri. Into this letter I crowded all my pent-up love, and urged her
to feel no regrets at my having been sacrificed in her behalf, as that
sacrifice was gladly and happily given.
Then I patted my little pet Tabby farewell, turned her over to Doggo’s
care, and was led by my executioners to the edge of the abyss. It was a
harmless enough looking gulch, but the scores of human skeletons and ant
shells, scattered about the bottom, bore mute witness to its dread
possibilities.
And witness, not mute, was borne by the volume of noise which rolled up
over the edge of the valley. I had thought that I had heard the limit of
stupendous sound when years ago I stood at the brink of the Niagara, but
the roar which arose from the Valley of the Howling Rocks dwarfed even
Niagara by comparison.
And into this chaos infernal I was about to be lowered. It was of course
impossible to hear spoken farewells, so I patted the side of Doggo’s
head good-by, at which last demonstration he turned away broken-hearted.
But the others seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. Then my
shackles were removed, so as to give free play to my amusing antics
during the torture, a strong rope was placed under my arms, and I was
lowered into the pit.
Even as I passed over the edge, my thoughts consisted chiefly in
wondering, not what fate was in store for me, but rather what it was
that made the noise. Always I shall remain an inquisitive scientist, I
suppose.
The noise became unbearable. Looking upward as the ropes spun me around,
I saw the horrid face of the ant queen, leering over the edge. She
lifted up a paw. To my surprise, the Formians who held the ropes began
to raise me again. A reprieve? Life again on the planet Poros, with a
possible chance of seeing my princess once more?
No—merely a respite! Or, rather, a cat-and-mouse game which they were
playing with me.
Several times more I was lowered into the pit, was held there until I
could scarcely bear the noise, and then was hauled up again for a brief
breathing space. But finally my feet were permitted to touch the bottom,
and the rope was pulled from beneath my arms.
That awful noise—I cannot describe the agony of it! Madly I dashed back
and forth, trying to avoid it; but there was no escape.
“Lilla! Lilla!” I shrieked in agony, but the terrific din kept even me
from hearing my own words.
I stumbled on a boulder—and, falling, struck my head against a sharp
rock.
Then blessed oblivion!
_11_
the valley of the shadow of death
Driven crazy by the awful noise, I had finally fallen, as many a victim
of the Valley of the Howling Rocks had done before. In falling I had
knocked my head against a stone and had become unconscious.
At last I gradually came to; and the first thing that I noticed, and
that brought me out of my stupor with a jerk, was the fact that absolute
silence reigned.
I sat up and looked around. Yes, I was still in the same valley,
surrounded by whitened bones and rusted carapaces. But the oppressive
din had ceased. Had the death-dealing howls been purely an artificial
creation, and had they been turned off at my supposed decease?
My late executioners had gone, so I was free to escape, if escape were
possible. But first I wished to find out why the noise had stopped. Ever
the incorrigible scientist! So I arose to my feet, and instantly noticed
that my headset was off, and was trailing on the ground. It must have
been knocked off when my head struck the rock.
I was just about to replace the phones over my ears, when I heard a roar
proceeding from them. And then I realized that the awful sound for which
the valley was famous was not sound at all, but consisted merely in
radiations of some sort, which had been caught and translated into sound
by my radio apparatus. There were some advantages, after all, in my
possessing a different kind of sense of hearing from that prevalent on
Poros.
So I switched off my current, and then replaced my headset. The next
problem was to get out of the valley. Not being confused by the howling
roar, I had an advantage over the many victims who had preceded me.
Undoubtedly it was this quite natural confusion which had rendered it
impossible for victims in the past to climb the walls, and so had given
these walls their undeserved reputation for unscalability. Even as it
was, quite a while elapsed before I found sufficient crevices
conveniently placed, so that I could make my way to the top.
Finally I stood at the rim, a free man!
And then I voluntarily went back down again into that valley of death.
Why? Because, being primarily an inquisitive scientist, I wanted to
procure samples of the howling rocks, for purposes of analysis if ever I
should be in a laboratory again. So I collected several different kinds
of fragments and did them up in a knotted corner of my toga.
Once more I scaled the steep walls, and stood again at the rim. I was
free! No one would ever look for me, as I was officially dead. I could
pass as a Cupian, for my disguise was still intact, and I had freshly
shaved that morning so as to make a presentable corpse.
Life on Poros was ahead of me, and Poros held the Princess Lilla!
The only fly in the ointment was that I had lost my sense of direction,
and so did not know whether I now stood on the Formian or on the Cupian
side of the pale. Accordingly, I proceeded with caution. After skirting
the Valley of the Howling Rocks, I followed the pale, hoping to come at
last to some gate which would furnish a clue as to which side I was on.
A strong wind was blowing, as is usual on Poros, and I knew that of
course it blew toward the sea. But, as I did _not_ know whether the sea
lay east or west from here, the wind was of no assistance in enabling me
to orient myself.
The pale was a thirty-foot sheer wall of glazed concrete, running in
practically a geodesic line across the country, sometimes through woods
and sometimes through green fields.
Where it ran through the woods, the trees and bushes along it—at least
on the side which I was on—had been cut away for quite a wide swath,
evidently for the purpose of preventing any one from using them to
surmount the walls.
As I could see no one on top of the wall in either direction, I followed
this cleared space, which made traveling considerably easier. There was
no fear of detection except when I passed through open fields, but I had
to do this quite frequently.
One field contained a herd of the milk-giving aphids, which I had
nicknamed “green cows.” Their presence convinced me that I must still be
in Formia, until I reflected that I did not know but that the Cupians
also raised them.
At last I came to a road which ran along by the pale for a way and then
curved off again. Down this road I walked until I saw ahead of me, where
the road topped a slight rise, two ant-men coming toward me. Instantly I
concealed myself in a tartan bush at one side.
Soon I heard their approach; and, suddenly noticing that I could not
hear their voices, I switched on my apparatus, which had been
disconnected ever since I had replaced my headset in the Valley of the
Howling Rocks. Thanks to my Indestructo tube, the apparatus was still
intact.
And now a strange low growl almost drowned out what they were saying, so
that with difficulty I distinguished the following words: “I could swear
that I saw a Cupian approaching on the road ahead of us; but now he is
nowhere to be seen.”
Then the other said: “Never mind what you _saw_. Do you _hear_ what I
hear? We had better be on our guard, for it sounds like the roar of some
absolutely new and strange animal.”
“It sounds to me,” replied the other, “more like the awful valley, only
much softer. It seems to come from this tartan bush. Shall we
investigate?”
As he mentioned the valley, I instantly realized what was the cause of
the trouble. The radioactive fragments tied up in the corner of my toga
had revealed my presence. If I wanted to escape, I would have to leave
my precious samples behind. With a sigh I undid the knot, dropped the
pieces on the ground, and dashed through the back of the bush, just as
the ant-men broke in through the front of it. It was lucky for me that
my pursuers had no ordinary sense of hearing, or they would have heard
my departure.
Safe in another bush, I listened to their amazed remarks at finding the
stones. But, after puzzling and debating for some time, they finally
resumed their journey.
I was about to return for my specimens, when I reflected that they might
attract other attention, and might even serve as a clue to suggest that
I was a convict, escaped from the awful valley, so I reluctantly left
them lying where they were.
Instead of continuing along the road, however, I now retraced my steps
to the wall, for the presence of the ant-men had made me certain that I
was still in Formia, and hence it became necessary for me to find some
place where I could get through to the other side. Accordingly, I
proceeded along beside the wall.
The day was warm and moist, as are all days on Poros, but as I went on
the weather got hotter, damper and more oppressive. Finally the sky
began to turn dark.
“Aha!” said I. “Now it is evening, and I shall be able to get my
bearings by the pink light in the west.”
But no pink light appeared on any hand. Never before had I seen a night
descend like this upon this planet. Then with a crash the sky was split
in two by a living flame, and the storm broke in all its fury.
The roar of the thunder was like a continuous artillery barrage. Spiral
vorticles of wind hurled the rain in my face and nearly twisted me off
my feet, as I anchored myself to a tree trunk to withstand its fury.
But fortunately the storm was as brief as it was severe, and soon I was
again pressing on beneath silver skies.
In spite of the storm, the weather kept on getting more and more
oppressive, until, on cresting a hill, I saw before me the cause of all
the trouble. About two stads ahead there rose a solid wall of vapor,
stretching away to the horizon on each side and to the silver clouds
above, and giving forth such an intense heat in my direction that I
could scarcely bear it. Every now and then a few drops of scalding water
would fall on me from above.
This must be the Boiling Sea, of which I had heard so much and which
surrounds all continental Poros. It was an impressive sight.
The pale ended only about a stad ahead, and yet for the life of me I
could not summon up courage enough to try and pass around its end. In
fact, I could not conceive how the wall ever could have been built even
that far, in the face of that terrific heat.
Later I learned that it had been built little by little behind a huge
screen of woven fire-worm fur, and only during off-shore breezes at
that.
Well, there was nothing for me to do but turn around and retrace my
steps, back to the Valley of the Howling Rocks and beyond, in search for
an opening through the wall.
I was well beyond the Valley when my earthly ears caught the sound of an
approaching kerkool, and as the road was fortunately passing through the
woods at the time, I hid myself in a convenient tartan bush.
But this time I displaced one of the huge leaves sufficiently so that,
with one eye, I could cover the road. What was my joy to note, as the
car passed, that it was of Cupian make and held Cupians!
When the kerkool was safely out of sight and hearing, I resumed my
march, and soon came in view of a city of a type so different from any
which I had previously seen on Poros that it might well have belonged to
another world.
I sat down in a hillside pasture beside the road, amidst gently grazing
aphids, and gazed upon the beautiful sight. The city was set upon a
rounded hill. On the very summit stood a group of monumental white
buildings, ornamented with domes, minarets and stately columns. From
this group down to the foot of the hill and across the plain toward
where I sat there stretched a plaza of well kept silver sward, flanked
by walks and ornamental trees.
The road ran square to the nearer edge of this park, where it forked
abruptly and skirted both sides of the lawn. Flanking this divided road,
and extending around the base of the hill, stood a multitude of houses;
gray concrete or stucco, with high pitched red tile roofs. Nothing more
different from the ant cities to which I was accustomed could be
imagined.
That I was at last in Cupia, the country of my princess, there could now
be no question. And, as if to resolve my last possible doubt, night now
fell, and the pink sky on my left assured me that I was, in truth, north
of the pale and that the hated country of my captivity lay far behind
me.
As the silver gray faded overhead, I realized that I had had nothing to
eat since a condemned man’s conventional hearty meal early that morning.
So, utilizing the few remaining minutes of daylight, I fashioned a
tartan leaf into a rude cup and filled it with green milk from the
contented cows.
Then, laying my weary body upon the ground and covering myself with
tartan leaves, I turned in for the night and slept the healthy sleep of
utter exhaustion.
The next morning I awakened greatly refreshed, and after breakfasting
from the friendly aphids, set off to enter the beautiful city.
I was badly in need of a shave and my toga was mussed and soiled. But my
disguise was still intact, and without too much scrutiny I might still
pass as a Cupian. Yet I did not dare ask where I was, not knowing what
the Cupian customs might be with regard to strangers.
My first desire was to procure a shaving knife and a clean toga, but I
had no idea how to go about it. In Formia there had been no shops;
everything necessary had simply been “issued,” as in the army, but
without even the need of signing a receipt. But quite likely the Cupian
custom was different.
Then, too, I wanted lodgings and a job, but did not know how to go about
this either.
Fortunately, however, I overheard a conversation between two Cupians
which gave me a clue as to how to proceed.
“Yahoo, Jodek,” one of them hailed the other. “How is it that you are in
Kuana today?”
My heart gave a bound. Kuana, the capital city of Cupia, and home of my
princess! Fate was indeed repaying me well for all the hard knocks it
had given me.
The one addressed as Jodek answered: “I have walked in from Ktuth to
register for a job here in Kuana. Can you direct me to the Ministry of
Work?”
And the two friends walked away, chatting together, while the germ of an
idea sprouted in my mind. I too would be from Ktuth, looking for a job.
Occasionally I passed some very officious looking person armed with a
short broadsword.