Jason Gridley, looking down from the branches of the tree in which he
had found sanctuary, was held by a certain horrible fascination as he
watched the feast of the great cats.
The scene that he had just witnessed--this stupendous spectacle of
savagery--suggested to him something of what life upon the outer crust
must have been at the dawn of humanity.
The suggestion was borne in upon him that perhaps this scene which he
had witnessed might illustrate an important cause of the extinction of
all of these animals upon the outer crust.
The action of the great saber-tooth tigers of Pellucidar in rounding
up the other beasts of the forest and driving them to this clearing
for slaughter evidenced a development of intelligence far beyond that
attained by the carnivores of the outer world of the present day, such
concerted action by any great number for the common good being unknown.
Gridley saw the vast number of animals that had been slaughtered
and most of them uselessly, since there was more flesh there than
the surviving tigers could consume before it reached a stage of
putrefaction that would render it unpalatable even to one of the great
cats. And this fact suggested the conviction that the cunning of the
tigers had reached a plane where it might reasonably be expected
to react upon themselves and eventually cause their extinction,
for in their savage fury and lust for flesh they had slaughtered
indiscriminately males and females, young and old. If this slaughter
went on unchecked for ages, the natural prey of the tigers must become
extinct and then, goaded by starvation, they would fall upon one
another.
The last stage of the ascendancy of the great cats upon the outer crust
must have been short and terrible and so eventually it would prove here
in Pellucidar.
And just as the great cats may have reached a point where their
mental development had spelled their own doom, so in the preceding
era the gigantic, carnivorous dinosaurs of the Jurassic may similarly
have caused the extinction of their own contemporaries and then of
themselves. Nor did Jason Gridley find it difficult to apply the
same line of reasoning to the evolution of man upon the outer crust
and to his own possible extinction in the not far remote future. In
fact, he recalled quite definitely that statisticians had shown that
within two hundred years or less the human race would have so greatly
increased and the natural resources of the outer world would have been
so depleted that the last generation must either starve to death or
turn to cannibalism to prolong its hateful existence for another short
period.
Perhaps, thought Gridley, in nature's laboratory each type that had at
some era dominated all others represented an experiment in the eternal
search for perfection. The invertebrate had given way to fishes, the
fishes to the reptiles, the reptiles to the birds and mammals, and
these, in turn, had been forced to bow to the greater intelligence of
man.
What would be next? Gridley was sure that there would be something
after man, who is unquestionably the Creator's greatest blunder,
combining as he does all the vices of preceding types from
invertebrates to mammals, while possessing few of their virtues.
As such thoughts were forced upon his mind by the scene below him they
were accompanied by others of more immediate importance, first of which
was concern for his fellows.
Nowhere about the clearing did he see any sign of a human being alive
or dead. He called aloud several times but received no reply, though
he realized that it was possible that above the roaring and the
growling of the feeding beasts his voice might not carry to any great
distance. He began to have hopes that his companions had all escaped,
but he was still greatly worried over the fate of Von Horst.
The subject of second consideration was that of his own escape and
return to the O-220. He had it in his mind that at nightfall the beasts
might retire and unconsciously he glanced upward at the sun to note the
time, when the realization came to him that there would never be any
night, that forever throughout all eternity it would be noon here. And
then he began to wonder how long he had been gone from the ship, but
when he glanced at his watch he realized that that meant nothing. The
hour hand might have made an entire circle since he had last looked at
it, for in the excitement of all that had transpired since they had
left the O-220 how might the mind of man, unaided, compute time?
But he knew that eventually the beasts must get their fill and leave.
After them, however, there would be the hyaenodons and the jackals
with their fierce cousins, the wild dogs. As he watched these, sitting
at a respectful distance from the tigers or slinking hungrily in the
background, he realized that they might easily prove as much of a bar
to his escape as the saber-tooth tigers themselves.
The hyaenodons especially were most discouraging to contemplate. Their
bodies were as large as that of a full grown mastiff. They walked upon
short, powerful legs and their broad jaws were massive and strong.
Dark, shaggy hair covered their backs and sides, turning to white upon
their breasts and bellies.
Gnawing hunger assailed Jason Gridley and also an overpowering desire
to sleep, convincing him that he must have been many hours away from
the O-220, and yet the beasts beneath him continued to feed.
A dead thag lay at the foot of the tree in which the American kept his
lonely vigil. So far it had not been fed upon and the nearest tiger was
fifty yards away. Gridley was hungry, so hungry that he eyed the thag
covetously. He glanced about him, measuring the distance from the tree
to the nearest tiger and trying to compute the length of time that
it would take him to clamber back to safety should he descend to the
ground. He had seen the tigers in action and he knew how swiftly they
could cover ground and that one of them could leap almost as high as
the branch upon which he sat.
Altogether the chance of success seemed slight for the plan he had in
mind in the event that the nearest tiger took exception to it. But
great though the danger was, hunger won. Gridley drew his hunting knife
and lowered himself gently to the ground, keeping an alert eye upon the
nearest tiger. Quickly he sliced several long strips of flesh from the
thag's hind quarter.
The tarag feeding fifty yards away looked up. Jason sliced another
strip, returned his knife to its sheath and climbed quickly back to
safety. The tarag lowered its head upon its kill and closed its eyes.
The American gathered dead twigs and small branches that still clung to
the living tree and with them he built a small fire in a great crotch.
Here he cooked some of the meat of the thag; the edges were charred,
the inside was raw, but Jason Gridley could have sworn that never
before in his life had he tasted such delicious food.
How long his culinary activities employed him, he did not know, but
when he glanced down again at the clearing he saw that most of the
tigers had quitted their kills and were moving leisurely toward the
forest, their distended bellies proclaiming how well they had surfeited
themselves. And as the tigers retired, the hyaenodons, the wild dogs
and the jackals closed in to the feast.
The hyaenodons kept the others away and Gridley saw another long wait
ahead of him; nor was he mistaken. And when the hyaenodons had had
their fill and gone, the wild dogs came and kept the jackals away.
In the meantime Gridley had fashioned a rude platform among the
branches of the tree, and here he had slept, awakening refreshed but
assailed by a thirst that was almost overpowering.
The wild dogs were leaving now and Gridley determined to wait no
longer. Already the odor of decaying flesh was warning him of worse to
come and there was the fear too that the tigers might return to their
kills.
Descending from the tree he skirted the clearing, keeping close to the
forest and searching for the trail by which his party had entered the
clearing. The wild dogs, slinking away, turned to growl at him, baring
menacing fangs. But knowing how well their bellies were filled, he
entertained little fear of them; while for the jackals he harbored that
contempt which is common among all creatures.
Gridley was dismayed to note that many trails entered the clearing; nor
could he recognize any distinguishing mark that might suggest the one
by which he had come. Whatever footprints his party had left had been
entirely obliterated by the pads of the carnivores.
He tried to reconstruct his passage across the clearing to the tree
in which he had found safety and by this means he hit upon a trail to
follow, although he had no assurance that it was the right trail. The
baffling noonday sun shining down upon him seemed to taunt him with his
helplessness.
As he proceeded alone down the lonely trail, realizing that at any
instant he might come face to face with some terrible beast of a
long dead past, Jason Gridley wondered how the ape-like progenitors
of man had survived to transmit any of their characteristics however
unpleasant to a posterity. That he could live to reach the O-220 he
much doubted. The idea that he might live to take a mate and raise a
family was preposterous.
While the general aspect of the forest through which he was passing
seemed familiar, he realized that this might be true no matter what
trail he was upon and now he reproached himself for not having had
the trees along the trail blazed. What a stupid ass he had been, he
thought; but his regrets were not so much for himself as for the
others, whose safety had been in his hands.
Never in his life had Jason Gridley felt more futile or helpless. To
trudge ceaselessly along that endless trail, having not the slightest
idea whether it led toward the O-220 or in the opposite direction was
depressing, even maddening; yet there was naught else to do. And always
that damned noonday sun staring unblinkingly down upon him--the cruel
sun that could see his ship, but would not lead him to it.
His thirst was annoying, but not yet overpowering, when he came to a
small stream that was crossed by the trail. Here he drank and rested
for a while, built a small fire, cooked some more of his thag meat,
drank again and took up his weary march--but much refreshed.
Aboard the O-220, as the hours passed and hope waned, the spirit of
the remaining officers and members of the crew became increasingly
depressed as apprehension for the safety of their absent comrades
increased gradually until it became eventually an almost absolute
conviction of disaster.
"They have been gone nearly seventy-two hours now," said Zuppner, who,
with Dorf and Hines, spent most of his time in the upper observation
cabin or pacing the narrow walkingway along the ship's back. "I never
felt helpless before in my life," he continued ruefully, "but I am free
to admit that I don't know what in the devil to do."
"It just goes to show," said Hines, "how much we depend upon habit and
custom and precedence in determining all our action even in the face of
what we are pleased to call emergency. Here there is no custom, habit
or precedence to guide us."
"We have only our own resources to fall back upon," said Dorf, "and it
is humiliating to realize that we have no resources."
"Not under the conditions that surround us," said Zuppner. "On the
outer crust there would be no question but that we should cruise around
in search of the missing members of our party. We could make rapid
excursions, returning to our base often; but here in Pellucidar if we
should lose sight of our base there is not one of us who believes he
could return the ship to this same anchorage. And that is a chance we
cannot take for the only hope those men have is that the ship shall be
here when they return."
One hundred and fifty feet below them Robert Jones leaned far out of
the galley doorway in an effort to see the noonday sun shining down
upon the ship. His simple, good-natured face wore a puzzled expression
not untinged with awe, and as he drew back into the galley he extracted
a rabbit's foot from his trousers pocket. Gently he touched each eye
with it and then rubbed it vigorously upon the top of his head at the
same time muttering incoherently below his breath.
From the vantage point of the walkingway far above, Lieutenant Hines
scanned the landscape in all directions through powerful glasses as
he had done for so long that it seemed he knew every shrub and tree
and blade of grass within sight. The wild life of savage Pellucidar
that crossed and re-crossed the clearing had long since become an old
story to these three men. Again and again as one animal or another had
emerged from the distant forest the glasses had been leveled upon it
until it could be identified as other than man; but now Hines voiced a
sudden, nervous exclamation.
"What is it?" demanded Zuppner. "What do you see?"
"It's a man!" exclaimed Hines. "I'm sure of it."
"Where?" asked Dorf, as he and Zuppner raised their glasses to their
eyes.
"About two points to port."
"I see it," said Dorf. "It's either Gridley or Von Horst, and whoever
it is he is alone."
"Take ten of the crew at once, Lieutenant," said Zuppner, turning to
Dorf. "See that they are well armed and go out and meet him. Lose no
time," he shouted after the Lieutenant, who had already started down
the climbing shaft.
The two officers upon the top of the O-220 watched Dorf and his party
as it set out to meet the man they could see trudging steadily toward
the ship. They watched them as they approached one another, though,
owing to the contour of the land, which was rolling, neither Dorf nor
the man he had gone to meet caught sight of one another until they
were less than a hundred yards apart. It was then that the Lieutenant
recognized the other as Jason Gridley.
As they hastened forward and clasped hands it was typical of the man
that Gridley's first words were an inquiry relative to the missing
members of the party.
Dorf shook his head. "You are the only one that has returned," he said.
The eager light died out of Gridley's eyes and he suddenly looked very
tired and much older as he greeted the engineers and mechanics who made
up the party that had come to escort him back to the ship.
"I have been within sight of the ship for a long time," he said. "How
long, I do not know. I broke my watch back in the forest a way trying
to beat a tiger up a tree. Then another one treed me just on the edge
of the clearing in plain view of the ship. It seems as though I have
been there a week. How long have I been gone, Dorf?"
"About seventy-two hours."
Gridley's face brightened. "Then there is no reason to give up hope yet
for the others," he said. "I honestly thought I had been gone a week. I
have slept several times, I never could tell how long; and then I have
gone for what seemed long periods without sleep because I became very
tired and excessively hungry and thirsty."
During the return march to the ship Jason insisted upon hearing a
detailed account of everything that had happened since his departure,
but it was not until they had joined Zuppner and Hines that he narrated
the adventures that had befallen him and his companions during their
ill-fated expedition.
"The first thing I want," he told them after he had been greeted by
Zuppner and Hines, "is a bath, and then if you will have Bob cook a
couple of cows I'll give you the details of the expedition while I am
eating them. A couple of handfuls of Bos Primigenus and some wild fruit
have only whetted my appetite."
A half hour later, refreshed by a bath, a shave and fresh clothing, he
joined them in the mess room.
As the three men seated themselves, Robert Jones entered from the
galley, his black face wreathed in smiles.
"Ah'm suttinly glad to see you all, Mas' Jason," said Robert. "Ah knew
sumpin was a-goin' to happen though--Ah knew we was a-goin' to have
good luck."
"Well, I'm glad to be back, Bob," said Gridley, "and I don't know of
anyone that I am any happier to see than you, for I sure have missed
your cooking. But what made you think that we're going to have good
luck?"
"Ah jes had a brief conversation with mah rabbit's foot. Dat ole boy he
never fails me. We suah be out o' luck if Ah lose him."
"Oh, I've seen lots of rabbits around, Bob," said Zuppner. "We can get
you a bushel of them in no time."
"Yes suh, Cap'n, but you can't get 'em in de dahk of de moon where
dey ain't no dahk an' dey ain't no moon, an' othe'wise dey lacks
efficiency."
"It's a good thing, then, that we brought you along," said Jason, "and
a mighty good thing for Pellucidar, for she never has had a really
effective rabbit's foot before in all her existence. But I can see
where you're going to need that rabbit's foot pretty badly yourself in
about a minute, Bob."
"How's dat, suh?" demanded Robert.
"The spirits tell me that something is going to happen to you if you
don't get food onto this table in a hurry," laughed Gridley.
"Yes suh, comin' right up," exclaimed the black as he hastened into the
galley.
As Gridley ate, he went over the adventures of the last seventy-two
hours in careful detail and the three men sought to arrive at some
definite conjecture as to the distance he had covered from the ship and
the direction.
"Do you think that you could lead another party to the clearing where
you became separated from Von Horst and the Waziri?" asked Zuppner.
"Yes, of course I could," replied Gridley, "because from the point that
we entered the forest we blazed the trees up to the time we reached the
trail, which we followed to the left. In fact I would not be needed at
all and if we decide to send out such a party, I shall not accompany
it."
The other officers looked at him in surprise and for a moment there was
an embarrassed silence.
"I have what I consider a better plan," continued Gridley. "There are
twenty-seven of us left. In the event of absolute necessity, twelve men
can operate the ship. That will leave fifteen to form a new searching
party. Leaving me out, you would have fourteen, and after you have
heard my plan, if you decide upon sending out such a party, I suggest
that Lieutenant Dorf command it, leaving you, Captain Zuppner, and
Hines to navigate the ship in the event that none of us returns, or
that you finally decide to set out in search of us."
"But I thought that you were not going," said Zuppner.
"I am not going with the searching party. I am going alone in the scout
plane, and my advice would be that you send out no searching party for
at least twenty-four hours after I depart, for in that time I shall
either have located those who are missing or have failed entirely."
Zuppner shook his head, dubiously. "Hines, Dorf and I have discussed
the feasibility of using the scout plane," he said. "Hines was very
anxious to make the attempt, although he realizes better than any of us
that once a pilot is out of sight of the O-220 he may never be able to
locate it again, for you must remember that we know nothing concerning
any of the landmarks of the country in the direction that our search
must be prosecuted."
"I have taken all that into consideration," replied Gridley, "and I
realize that it is at best but a forlorn hope."
"Let me undertake it," said Hines. "I have had more flying experience
than any of you with the possible exception of Captain Zuppner, and it
is out of the question that we should risk losing him."
"Any one of you three is probably better fitted to undertake such a
flight than I," replied Gridley; "but that does not relieve me of the
responsibility. I am more responsible than any other member of this
party for our being where we are and, therefore, my responsibility for
the safety of the missing members of the expedition is greater than
that of any of the rest of you. Under the circumstances, then, I could
not permit anyone else to undertake this flight. I think that you will
all understand and appreciate how I feel and that you will do me the
favor to interpose no more objection."
It was several minutes thereafter before anyone spoke, the four seeming
to be immersed in the business of sipping their coffee and smoking
their cigarettes. It was Zuppner who broke the silence.
"Before you undertake this thing," he said, "you should have a long
sleep, and in the meantime we will get the plane out and have it gone
over thoroughly. You must have every chance for success that we can
give you."
"Thank you!" said Gridley. "I suppose you are right about the sleep.
I hate to waste the time, but if you will call me the moment that the
ship is ready I shall go to my cabin at once and get such sleep as I
can in the meantime."
While Gridley slept, the scout plane, carried aft in the keel cabin,
was lowered to the ground, where it underwent a careful inspection and
test by the engineers and officers of the O-220.
Even before the plane was ready Gridley appeared at the cabin door of
the O-220 and descended to the ground.
"You did not sleep long," said Zuppner.
"I do not know how long," said Gridley, "but I feel rested and anyway I
could not have slept longer, knowing that those fellows are out there
somewhere waiting and hoping for succor."
"What route do you expect to follow," asked Zuppner, "and how are
you planning to insure a reasonable likelihood of your being able to
return?"
"I shall fly directly over the forest as far as I think it at all
likely that they could have marched in the time that they have been
absent, assuming that they became absolutely confused and have traveled
steadily away from the ship. As soon as I have gained sufficient
altitude to make any observation I shall try and spot some natural
landmark, like a mountain or a body of water, near the ship and from
time to time, as I proceed, I shall make a note of similar landmarks.
I believe that in this way I can easily find my way back, since at the
furthest I cannot proceed over two hundred and fifty miles from the
O-220 and return to it with the fuel that I can carry.
"After I have reached the furthest possible limits that I think the
party could have strayed, I shall commence circling, depending upon the
noise of the motor to attract their attention and, of course, assuming
that they will find some means of signaling their presence to me, which
they can do even in wooded country by building smudges."
"You expect to land?" inquired Zuppner, nodding at the heavy rifle
which Gridley carried.
"If I find them in open country, I shall land; but even if I do not
find them it may be necessary for me to come down and my recent
experiences have taught me not to venture far in Pellucidar without a
rifle."
After a careful inspection, Gridley shook hands with the three
remaining officers and bid farewell to the ship's company, all of whom
were anxious observers of his preparation for departure.
"Good-bye, old man," said Zuppner, "and may God and luck go with you."
Gridley pressed the hand of the man he had come to look upon as a
staunch and loyal friend, and then took his seat in the open cockpit
of the scout plane. Two mechanics spun the propeller, the motor roared
and a moment later the block was kicked away and the plane rolled out
across the grassy meadowland towards the forest at the far side. The
watchers saw it rise swiftly and make a great circle and they knew that
Gridley was looking for a landmark. Twice it circled above the open
plain and then darted away across the forest.
It had not been until he had made that first circle that Jason Gridley
had realized the handicap that this horizonless landscape of Pellucidar
had placed upon his chances of return. He had thought of a mountain
standing boldly out against the sky, for such a landmark would have
been almost constantly within the range of his vision during the entire
flight.
There were mountains in the distance, but they stood out against no
background of blue sky nor upon any horizon. They simply merged with
the landscape beyond them, curving upward in the distance. Twice he
circled, his keen eyes searching for any outstanding point in the
topography of the country beneath him, but there was nothing that was
more apparent than the grassy plain upon which the O-220 rested.
He felt that he could not waste time and fuel by searching longer for
a landmark that did not exist, and while he realized that the plain
would be visible for but a comparatively short distance he was forced
to accept it as his sole guide in lieu of a better one.
Roaring above the leafy roof of the primeval forest, all that
transpired upon the ground below was hidden from him and it was
tantalizing to realize that he might have passed directly over the
heads of the comrades he sought, yet there was no other way. Returning,
he would either circle or hold an exaggerated zig-zag course, watching
carefully for sign of a signal.
For almost two hours Jason Gridley held a straight course, passing
over forest, plain and rolling, hilly country, but nowhere did he see
any sign of those he sought. Already he had reached the limit of the
distance he had planned upon coming when there loomed ahead of him
in the distance a range of lofty mountains. These alone would have
determined him to turn back, since his judgment told him that the lost
members of the party, should they have chanced to come this far, would
by now have realized that they were traveling in the wrong direction.
As he banked to turn he caught a glimpse out of the corner of an eye of
something in the air above him and looking quickly back, Jason Gridley
caught his breath in astonishment.
Hovering now, almost above him, was a gigantic creature, the enormous
spread of whose wings almost equalled that of the plane he was
piloting. The man had a single glimpse of tremendous jaws, armed with
mighty teeth, in the very instant that he realized that this mighty
anachronism was bent upon attacking him.
Gridley was flying at an altitude of about three thousand feet when the
huge pteranodon launched itself straight at the ship. Jason sought to
elude it by diving. There was a terrific crash, a roar, a splintering
of wood and a grinding of metal as the pteranodon swooped down upon its
prey and full into the propeller.
What happened then, happened so quickly that Jason Gridley could not
have reconstructed the scene five seconds later.
The plane turned completely over and at the same instant Gridley
jumped. He jerked the rip cord of his parachute. Something struck him
on the head and he lost consciousness.