Thus collapsed Cabot’s plan. Thus went for naught his many nights of
instruction!
He had counted on his trained woofus, the largest of the five, to hold
off the other four, and perhaps cause a diversion during which he could
reach the side of his princess. Had some one guessed his plans, and kept
the woofus from him?
The four purple beasts, which had been admitted to the arena for the
purpose of making an end of the earthman, now slowly and stealthily
approached their victim, who watched them with fascinated eyes, in more
or less of a daze.
“O Minorian, beast from another world,” Yuri shouted in glee from the
stand, “give antennae unto me! What think you now? Can you _alone_
vanquish these four?”
The meaning of his emphasis was most evident, and showed that the king
knew that Cabot had counted on the assistance of his trained woofus.
“Not alone, O King,” he replied with a meaning all his own, then raised
his eyes reverently to Heaven. An angry rustle arose from the stands,
like leaves before an approaching storm. Evidently Cabot still had a
following in Kuana.
There he stood alone, a stranger from another world, bearded,
long-haired, disheveled, and unkempt. A pitiable sight indeed! And yet
there was something heroic in his bearing, so that a large section of
the populace, remembering his past deeds, were still glad to acclaim him
as their leader.
But what good would this following do, for the purple beasts were now
nearly upon him in their slow and stealthy approach.
At this moment a crash resounded throughout the stadium, but it was
heard by the ears of the earth-man alone. The iron gates gave way, and
out bounded a fifth woofus, larger than any of the rest. The woofus
shrieked, and Lilla and Yuri both shuddered, but each for a different
cause: Lilla because she thought that it was a new menace to her
husband; Yuri because it represented the one eventuality which he had
felt sure he had guarded against. Cabot thrilled.
“Not alone,” he repeated, but with a new meaning now. “Look well, O
King!”
Like a purple streak of lightning, the newcomer shot across the arena
with a long-drawn crescendo howl!
The sound of a woofus is indescribable. Myles Cabot has tried many times
to describe it to me, but has failed. The nearest that he can come to it
is to say that it resembles the noise obtained by placing the receiver
of a telephone-set over the mouthpiece, when one wishes to get even with
the girl at Central for being particularly and unusually ornery. It was
to prevent this that French phones were invented.
But, to go on with the story. As the fifth woofus charged across the
sands, the other four heard his battle-cry, and, pausing in their
approach toward Cabot, turned and faced the newcomer, who at once
stopped in his onrush.
For a few paraparths, the five beasts, four on one side and one on the
other, confronted each other with bristling antennae.
Then “Sic ’em!” shouted the earth-man.
At that, his pet woofus, electrified, sprang at the other four. A
clawing, snarling ball of purple hate resulted, out of which finally
catapulted one huge woofus, which fled across the silver sands. The four
quickly disentangled themselves and followed. Cabot stood aghast, for
his woofus, his own brave woofus, was in flight.
Round and round the arena it ran, pursued by the other four. This was a
spectacle the like of which had never been vouchsafed to the
sport-loving Cupians, or to the bloodthirsty Formians for that matter.
It appealed alike to the predominating trait of each race, and the
throngs in the stands went wild with enthusiasm, even the supporters of
Cabot forgetting their partisanship in their glee.
The fight could now have but one outcome, namely, the ultimate
overtaking and overcoming of the pursued; and, after that, a horrible
death for the earth-man. Gradually the chase lengthened out, until each
pursuer was separated from the next by almost as many parastads as lay
between their leader and the beast which fled before them. Cabot sat
down in the center of the sands and watched the race with a feeling of
strange detachment, scarcely conscious of the fact that, at the end of
all this, he was destined to be torn to bits. His only sentiment was
sorrow that his pet should have proved a craven, and anxiety for its
safety. Why couldn’t the woofus die fighting, as befitted a creature
trained by Myles Cabot, the Minorian?
With this thought in mind, Myles jumped to his feet, and hastening over
to one side of the stadium, stood directly in the path of the oncoming
beasts. He heard Lilla gasp in the stands above, and then the woofuses
were upon him. His own pet, tired and frantic as it was, saw and
recognized its master, and paused to turn to one side and so avoid
running him down; and, at this instant, Cabot shouted peremptorily: “Sic
’em, Tige! Sic ’em!”
Habit proved stronger than fear. The woofus wheeled, and in an instant
had laid its surprised pursuer in the dust.
“Run!” ordered the earth-man, and again the largest woofus fled,
followed now by only three enemies.
The line strung out as before, and again circled the stadium. And again
the earth-man halted the procession when it reached him. But this time
the second pursuing woofus put up a better fight than its predecessor,
with the result that the other two caught up, and joined the fray.
Cabot’s woofus was soon lying on the ground, with its three enemies on
top of it, but its jaws were firmly fixed in the throat of one of them,
and the body of this one protected it in a measure from the other two.
The earthman stood by, an interested but an impotent onlooker, for there
was nothing he could do to help. But at last the underdog wriggled clear
of the pile and fled again around the enclosure. This time it was
followed by only two, for the second of its enemies lay stretched upon
the gory sands.
* * * * *
One of the two pursuers now rapidly gained upon the pursued and overtook
it as it reached the opposite side of the stadium from that on which
Cabot was standing, so Myles raced across to observe the battle close at
hand.
But before he reached the other side the fight was over. His own woofus
raised its bloody head aloft with a paean of triumph and planted its
forepaws upon the body of its third victim. The fourth pursuer halted in
its mad rush. For a few paraparths the two beasts glared at each other;
then, with arched backs and stiffened legs, they slowly circled each
other, watching for an opening.
“Divide and conquer,” the radio man commented to himself. Then to his
pet, “Sic ’em!”
The huge beast sprang at its opponent with a snarl. And now the tables
were turned, for it was the other which fled. Round and round the arena
they ran, the pursued gradually drawing away from the pursuer.
Myles could see that his own beast was more tired than the other, and,
accordingly, he became afraid that even yet the battle might be lost. So
hastily deciding upon a rash plan, he placed himself directly in the
path of the oncoming beasts. Straight toward him they came, yet Cabot
did not flinch. Then, with a bound, his enemy was upon him, and down he
crashed, flat on his back on the silver sands.
But his hands warded off the slathering jaws from his throat. His
strength was sufficient for this for just a few moments; and a few
moments were enough. With a crunch, the jaws of his own woofus closed on
the spine of his enemy. And in another instant the bearded, disheveled,
gory earthman and his equally gory purple pet arose from the ground and
stood erect, victors of the arena. Four dead forms lay on the bloody
sands, bearing mute witness to the efficient combination of brute
strength and human cunning which had triumphed that day.
Then the woofus stepped over to its master and rubbed against his side.
Lilla shuddered, and hid her eyes, but Cabot smiled, and looking down,
patted the bloody head.
At this moment the king arose and gave some hurried orders to his
guards. It was his undoing. The woofus heard and recognized the voice,
and in another instant it had cleared the railing with one bound and was
making its way through the frantic throng toward the royal box.
Cabot called and called, but forgotten were his teachings, for the
woofus had wind of his maltreater, and was obsessed with a single
thought, namely, revenge.
So Cabot followed hastily in the wake of the beast, and easily
surmounted the barrier. The whole stadium was in an uproar. Red, yellow
and black flags were being waved by the various factions, and cries of
“Long life to Cabot, the Minorian! Down with the usurper! Death to the
Formians!” filled the air, mingled with cries of fear from those near
the royal box, and shots fired by the royal bodyguard. The red pennant
of the Kew dynasty predominated. Evidently the place had been
intentionally packed with the followers of the dead baby king.
But Cabot had no time to exult over this coup, for his every energy was
bent upon reaching Lilla in time to save her from the terror which he
had loosed upon them.
In spite of Cabot’s haste, however, the beast broke through the guards,
undeterred by their firing, and reached the royal box before him. Lilla
shrieked and cringed to one side, but she had no need to do so, for
straight as an arrow flew the huge animal at Yuri, and down went the
king with a crash beneath the impact of the beast. Then the Formian
bodyguard closed over Yuri, the woofus, Lilla and Queen Formis, in a
snarling, fighting, reeking pile.
“To the rescue of the princess!” shouted Myles Cabot, and a full hundred
Cupians responded, falling upon the black writhing mass, with swords,
pistol-butts, and even chairs.
Cabot stood to one side, directing the attack. As more and more of his
faction rallied about him, he formed the latecomers in a cordon, facing
outward, so as to keep off any Cupians so rash as to try to assist their
king, or any Formians so temerarious as to come to the rescue of their
queen.
So intent was the swarming black pile upon getting at the woofus which
had Yuri pinned beneath it, that they did not heed the enemy upon their
own backs; but those at the bottom of the pile were careful to bridge
their bodies, so as to keep the weight off the ant-queen Formis and the
Cupian Princess Lilla.
Cabot’s Cupians stabbed and hacked and pulled. Occasionally an ant would
turn and snap savagely at them. But one by one the black ant men were
crushed and torn away, until at last the bottom of the pile was reached.
There on the floor of the royal box lay a battered and bloody purple
body, beside a gaping hole which clearly indicated the avenue of escape
by which had disappeared Yuri and Formis, with Lilla as their prize. The
floor of the box had evidently given way under the weight of the
conflict, and through the hole, thus formed, the enemy had escaped.
Cabot and his immediate followers stared at this hole for a mere
paraparth; then, realizing the situation, they plunged into the dark
depths beneath. The drop was nearly half a parastad, but luckily the
hole led into one of the cells for confining beasts of the arena, and
the floor was covered deep with straw which broke their fall. The first
few of the company jumped, and then called to their companions that it
was all right; but those above delayed in following, for fear of landing
on those below. And, during this moment of indecision, those in the cell
suddenly found themselves set upon from all sides, for quite a number of
ant men had fallen through with their leaders, and had remained behind
to bar the passage.
The fighting was in nearly pitch darkness, but fortunately there was
little danger of mistaking friends from foes, for huge ants ten feet
long bear but little resemblance to Cupian beings, even in the dark.
Nevertheless, the sharp mandibles of the Formians proved effective
weapons at close quarters.
Those of the Cupians who had remained on the stand, hearing the shouts
of the conflict below, poured into the hole with weapons poised, and
struck home whenever they chanced to land upon an enemy.
Finally all was silence, but whether the Formians had all been slain or
had merely retired to some nook from which to rush out again and renew
the conflict, could not be told. There was no time, however, to stop and
find out.
“Quick!” the earthman shouted, “we must follow the usurper!”
Whereat all the party started groping about to try and discover an exit.
A shout of “Here is the door!” from one of them, and all pressed in his
direction, Cabot merely following with the crowd, since his antennae
gave him no clue as to the source of the cry. The door opened into a
passageway. In silence the party threaded the dim corridors beneath the
stadium, until a sudden turn brought them out into the daylight, facing
the city. And, as they debouched, they saw, just out of reach, a kerkool
which bore Yuri, Formis and Lilla toward Kuana.
Out of the other exits were pouring a fighting, seething crowd of
Cupians and Formians, as on that other day not so long ago, when Prince
Yuri had assassinated King Kew at the Peace Day exercises, and had thus
made himself King. But this time the red pennants of Kew outnumbered the
yellow of Yuri and the black of Formis combined.
Other kerkools were standing beside the stadium. Without awaiting the
outcome of the fighting, Cabot and those with him seized the nearest
cars and sped after the fleeing king.
* * * * *
Straight for the palace drove Yuri, and straight for the palace drove
his pursuers. Yuri arrived there first, entered the capitol ground and
barred the gates, whereat the Kew faction surrounded the entire group of
buildings on the top of Kuana hill. They were quickly augmented by the
victorious reds from the stadium. Then Cabot and a handful of the more
intrepid of his faction battered down one of the palace gates and forced
their way inside.
As the door crashed in, the assaulting force was met by a volley of
shots, but it had been a bit premature and so most of the bullets went
wild. Within the doorway stood rank upon rank of the palace guard,
Cupians of unquestioned loyalty to the usurper Yuri, his own personal
bodyguard, who had been recruited from the unspeakables of the city by
Trisp, the bar-mango of Kuana. They were armed with rifles.
But before they could recover from their surprise sufficiently to fire a
second round, the assaulting party swept in and engaged them in hand to
hand combat. Some of the guard possessed revolvers as well as the longer
weapon, and so were able to defend themselves manfully at close range,
but they were merely thugs who fought for the love of fighting, whereas
the attackers were inspired by the enthusiasm of an ideal, the ideal of
Cupian freedom which had been engendered by Cabot, the Minorian, in the
first War of Liberation, and which now had been born anew in the second.
Their onrush proved irresistible, and soon the few remaining survivors
of Yuri’s guard had fled into the interior of the palace.
Myles and his men stripped the dead of their arms and ammunition, and
followed. The grip of an automatic in Cabot’s hand gave him new courage.
“Forward for Princess Lilla!” he cried.
And his followers echoed, “For Princess Lilla! Death to the Formians!”
Thus shouting, they threaded their way through the palace corridors,
hunting, ever hunting. Many a black antman they slew, and many a
familiar spot they traversed, but not a sign did they find of Lilla or
of her abductors.
The royal palace of Kuana is set upon the crest of Capitol Hill, in the
midst of the group of monumental white buildings which comprise the
far-famed University of Cupia. Its main elevation looks to the southward
across the plaza to the fields and stadium and hills beyond. Surrounding
the university group and the palace and the plaza, are the lesser
buildings of Kuana, built in stucco in graceful lines, with
high-pitched, red-tiled roofs, a style of architecture quite unlike that
employed by the ant men, whose houses are square and chunky affairs,
resembling exaggerated piles of toy building blocks.
Because the palace stands upon the summit of a hill, the ground
entrances lead into what are practically its cellars; hence the
interminable labyrinthine corridors which the earthman and his
supporters now threaded. Every turn, every door, every side hallway had
to be approached with utmost caution, to avoid a surprise attack; and at
each intersecting or forking corridor, the party divided, so as to
defend their flanks.
Thus the numbers with Cabot rapidly dwindled, and soon he found himself
searching through the passageways alone. Now he had to proceed with even
greater caution. No Cupians did he meet, but time and again, after
rounding some turn or mounting some stair, he found himself face to face
with a Formian. Usually he was quicker on the draw, for the human hand
has a craft unequalled by the claw of an insect, even though the insect
may possess a superior brain. Only one Formian whom he encountered fired
first, and fortunately that one missed.
Thus, step by step, the earth man emerged from the subterranean depths
of the palace cellars to the upper levels.
He had just annihilated one more black antagonist, when he saw
approaching him a Cupian in a toga which bore the insignia of the palace
guards. Here indeed was a victim greatly to his taste, for he had tired
of killing ants, and longed to get his hands on some one closer to King
Yuri.
But just as he was about to fire, the other spoke, “Stop, Cabot! Do you
not know Nan-nan of the Caves of Kar?”
Cabot lowered his weapon in surprise.
“What are you doing here? And in that garb!” he exclaimed. “I scarcely
recognize you without your red-embroidered robe.”
The young priest smiled. “Great are the ramifications of the lost
religion. For instance, I might tell you who it was that loosed your pet
woofus in the arena this morning when you appealed unto the God of
Minos. But, for the present, my duty is merely to lead you to the
princess. Follow me.”
And back he led Myles Cabot, down again into the depths from which the
earth man had so laboriously fought his way. Finally they halted and the
priest said:
“There are reasons why I cannot accompany you farther. But you can find
the route from here to the princess without difficulty. First right,
then left, then straight ahead. And may the Great Builder go with you! I
cannot, for I have other work to do.”
And he passed Cabot and vanished down the long corridor.
* * * * *
Taking a firm grip on his revolver, Myles strode around the first turn
to the right, then around the first turn to the left, and then pressed
on until he found the way blocked by a thick heavy curtain. This he
flung to one side, and stepped boldly into the room beyond.
The room beyond was circular, about one parastad in diameter. Its roof
was vaulted and lit by a single large vapor lamp. A continuous stretch
of crimson curtains lined the walls. At the opposite side of the room
from that at which he had entered there was a small raised platform. And
on this platform stood King Yuri, with Lilla held close in his arms. He
was making ardent love to her, which she seemed too tired and beaten to
resist. Yuri’s torn toga, and the deep scratches on one of his arms
showed only too clearly the handiwork of the purple beast on the stands
of the stadium. Or had Lilla done this?
“Stop!” Cabot thundered, covering the king with his revolver.
Yuri turned and faced his accuser, but still kept one arm around the
princess, who stared at Cabot almost unseeing out of dull and weary
eyes. The king appeared a bit surprised, but nevertheless maintained the
calm which was so typical of him.
“Yuri, your end has come,” the earthman announced, “and with your death
there begins a slaughter which shall not cease until every black Formian
is driven from the face of this planet. For only so can war be banished
forever.”
“Is that so?” sneered the king. “And may I ask who it was that first
brought war here from Minos?”
Cabot winced. The accusation was true.
“That is neither here nor there,” he asserted. “Maybe I did bring war;
but, if so, what I have commenced I shall finish.”
Yuri’s lip curled in scorn. “Behold, I am unarmed. Is it the custom on
your planet to shoot down unarmed men? I had thought better, even of a
beast from Minos.”
“If you thought so, then you made the mistake of your life,” Cabot
replied. “I am no story-book character. Often have I read, in tales of
chivalrous adventure, how the hero, having the villain finally at bay,
gave him his chance, and then vanquished him in fair fight. If I had
only myself to think of, O king, I would fling this gun aside, and
strangle you with my bare hands. But what of the princess and of Cupia?
I have no right to sacrifice Lilla’s happiness and the safety of my
country on the altar of my own personal honor. That would be selfish
indeed!”
“Wisely spoken,” the princess interjected.
“And so,” Myles continued, “armed or unarmed, you die!”
And he raised his pistol.
“Just a moment,” Yuri put in hurriedly, seeming for the first time a bit
perturbed. “After you entered this chamber, a door automatically slid
shut behind you, thus barring your exit. If you do not believe me, you
can back up, still keeping me covered, and feel of it. That door is so
thick and so secure that you could never break through it. I, and I
alone, know the secret of that door. I am not afraid to die, though it
is a bit unpleasant to be killed by a coward; but, unless you spare my
life, neither you nor the princess will ever leave this room.”
“‘Better a wise coward than a brave fool,’” Myles quoted from one of
Poblath’s proverbs.
“That may be,” the king testily resumed, “but, as I have said, if you
kill me, you will never leave this room. Your only hope of escape is to
spare my life.”
Cabot considered for a moment. Naturally he did not believe Yuri, yet
how simple to test him by trying the door.
Just as he was about to do this, however, he remembered something.
“Your threat holds no terror for me,” he asserted. “Nan-nan directed me
here. If I do not reappear, he will bring hordes of my followers to
batter down your door.”
Yuri laughed a sneering laugh. “You lose! Did not this Nan-nan, of whom
you speak, wear the uniform of my bodyguard?”
Cabot grudgingly admitted it.
“I thought so,” the usurper resumed in triumph. “Know then that I sent
Nan-nan to lure you here, so that you might become my victim.”
The earthman’s suspicions were aroused. Whom could he trust? Then he
reflected that Yuri was unarmed, which fact seemed to knock the bottom
out from under his story. An unarmed person would scarcely have given
orders to have an armed person sent to him as a prospective victim.
Why not try the door, however? That would determine in a measure whether
Yuri lied. But as Myles started to put this plan into effect, he was
stayed by the sound of a human voice, a strange and raucous human voice.
Could he be dreaming? Had his mind given way under the strain of his
many vicissitudes? For there were no human voices on Poros.
Yet there could be no mistaking the sound. It was not the radiated
antennae speech of Poros. It was a real human voice smiting against his
human ears. Cabot stood still in perplexity.