"Please, Jana," he pleaded, "let me go with you. I shall not annoy you.
I shall not even speak to you unless you wish it, but let me go with
you to protect you from the beasts."
The girl laughed. "You protect me!" she exclaimed, her tone caustic
with sarcasm. "You do not even know the dangers which beset the way.
Without your strange spear, which spits fire and death, you would be
helpless before the attack of even one of the lesser beasts, and in
the high Mountains of the Thipdars there are beasts so large and so
terrible that they would devour you and your fire spear in a single
gulp. Go back to your own people, man of another world; go back to the
soft women of which you have told me. Only a man may go where The Red
Flower of Zoram goes."
"You half convince me," said Jason with a rueful smile, "that I am only
a caterpillar, but nevertheless even a caterpillar must have guts of
some sort and so I am going to follow you, Red Flower of Zoram, until
some goggle-eyed monstrosity of the Jurassic snatches me from this vale
of tears."
"I do not know what you are talking about," snapped Jana; "but if you
follow me you will be killed. Remember what I told you--only a man may
go where goes The Red Flower of Zoram," and as though to prove her
assertion she turned and slid quickly over the edge of the precipice,
disappearing from his view.
Running quickly forward to the edge of the chasm, Jason Gridley looked
down and there, a few yards below him, clinging to the perpendicular
face of the cliff, Jana was working her way slowly downward. Jason held
his breath. It seemed incredible that any creature could find hand or
foothold upon that dizzy escarpment. He shuddered and cold sweat broke
out upon him as he watched the girl.
Foot by foot she worked her way downward, while the man, lying upon
his belly, his head projecting over the edge of the cliff, watched
her in silence. He dared not speak to her for fear of distracting
her attention and when, after what seemed an eternity, she reached
the bottom, he fell to trembling like a leaf and for the first time
realized the extent of the nervous strain he had been undergoing.
"God!" he murmured. "What a magnificent display of nerve and courage
and skill!"
The Red Flower of Zoram did not look back or upward once as she resumed
her way, following the gorge upward, searching for some point where she
might clamber out of it above the rift.
Jason Gridley looked down into the terrible abyss.
"'Only a man may go where goes The Red Flower of Zoram,'" he mused.
He watched the girl until she disappeared behind a mass of fallen rock,
where the gorge curved to the right, and he knew that unless he could
descend into the gorge she had passed out of his life forever.
"Only a man may go where goes The Red Flower of Zoram!"
Jason Gridley arose to his feet. He readjusted the leather sling upon
his rifle so that he could carry the weapon hanging down the center of
his back. He slipped the holsters of both of his six-guns to the rear
so that they, too, were entirely behind him. He removed his boots and
dropped them over the edge of the cliff. Then he lay upon his belly
and lowered his body slowly downward, and from a short distance up the
gorge two eyes watched him from behind a pile of tumbled granite. There
was anger in them at first, then skepticism, then surprise, and then
terror.
As gropingly the man sought for some tiny foothold and then lowered
himself slowly a few inches at a time, the eyes of the girl, wide in
horror, never left him for an instant.
"Only a man may go where goes The Red Flower of Zoram!"
Cautiously, Jason Gridley groped for each handhold and foothold--each
precarious support from which it seemed that even his breathing
might dislodge him. Hunger, thirst and fatigue were forgotten as he
marshalled every faculty to do the bidding of his iron nerve.
Hugging close to the face of the cliff he did not dare turn his head
sufficiently to look downward and though it seemed he had clung there,
lowering himself inch by inch, for an eternity, yet he had no idea how
much further he had to descend. And so impossible of accomplishment
did the task that he had set himself appear that never for an instant
did he dare to hope for a successful conclusion. Never for an instant
did any new hold impart to him a feeling of security, but each one
seemed, if possible, more precarious than its predecessor, and then he
reached a point where, grope as he would, he could find no foothold.
He could not move to right or left; nor could he ascend. Apparently he
had reached the end of his resources, but still he did not give up.
Replacing his torn and bleeding feet upon the last, slight hold that
they had found, he cautiously sought for new handholds lower down, and
when he had found them--mere protuberances of rough granite--he let his
feet slip slowly from their support as gradually he lowered his body to
its full length, supported only by his fingers, where they clutched at
the tiny projections that were his sole support.
As he clung there, desperately searching about with his feet for some
slight projection, he reproached himself for not having discarded his
heavy weapons and ammunition. And why? Because his life was in jeopardy
and he feared to die? No, his only thought was that because of them he
would be unable to cling much longer to the cliff and that when his
hands slipped from their holds and he was dashed into eternity, his
last, slender hope of ever again seeing The Red Flower of Zoram would
be gone. It is remarkable, perhaps, that as he clung thus literally
upon the brink of eternity, no visions of Cynthia Furnois or Barbara
Green impinged themselves upon his consciousness.
He felt his fingers weakening and slipping from their hold. The end
came suddenly. The weight of his body dragged one hand loose and
instantly the other slipped from the tiny knob it had been clutching,
and Jason Gridley dropped downward, perhaps eighteen inches, to the
bottom of the cliff.
As he came to a stop, his feet on solid rock, Jason could not readily
conceive the good fortune that had befallen him. Almost afraid to look,
he glanced downward and then the truth dawned upon him--he had made the
descent in safety. His knees sagged beneath him and as he sank to the
ground, a girl, watching him from up the gorge, burst into tears.
A short distance below him a spring bubbled from the canyon side,
forming a little brooklet which leaped downward in the sunlight toward
the bottom of the canyon and the valley, and after he had regained his
composure he found his boots and hobbled down to the water. Here he
satisfied his thirst and washed his feet, cleansing the cuts as best he
could, bandaged them crudely with strips torn from his handkerchief,
pulled his boots on once more and started up the canyon after Jana.
Far above, near the summit of the stupendous range, he saw ominous
clouds gathering. They were the first clouds that he had seen in
Pellucidar, but only for this reason did they seem remarkable or
important. That they presaged rain, he could well imagine; but how
could he dream of the catastrophic proportions of their menace.
Far ahead of him The Red Flower of Zoram was clambering upward along a
precarious trail that gave promise of leading eventually over the rim
of the gorge to the upper reaches that she wished to gain. When she
had seen Jason's life in imminent jeopardy, she had been filled with
terror and remorse, but when he had safely completed the descent her
mood changed, and with the perversity of her sex she still sought to
elude him. She had almost gained the summit of the escarpment when the
storm broke and with it came a realization that the man behind her was
ignorant of the danger which now more surely menaced him than had the
descent of the cliff.
Without an instant's hesitation The Red Flower of Zoram turned and fled
swiftly down the steep trail she had just so laboriously ascended.
She must reach him before the waters reached him. She must guide him
to some high place upon the canyon's wall, for she knew that the
bottom of this great gorge would soon be a foaming, boiling torrent,
spreading from side to side, its waters, perhaps, two hundred feet
in depth. Already the water was running deep in the canyon far below
her and spilling over the rim above her, racing downward in torrents
and cataracts and waterfalls that carried earth and stone with them.
Never in her life had Jana witnessed a storm so terrible. The thunder
roared and the lightning flashed; the wind howled and the water fell
in blinding sheets, and yet constantly menaced by instant death the
girl groped her way blindly downward upon her hopeless errand of mercy.
How hopeless it was she was soon to see, for the waters in the gorge
had risen, she saw them just below her now, nor was the end in sight.
Nothing down there could have survived. The man must long since have
been washed away.
Jason was dead! The Red Flower of Zoram stood for an instant looking at
the rising waters below her. There came to her an urge to throw herself
into them. She did not want to live, but something stayed her; perhaps
it was the instinct of primeval man, whose whole existence was a battle
against death, who knew no other state and might not conceive voluntary
surrender to the enemy, and so she turned and fought her way upward as
the waters rising below her climbed to overtake her and the waters from
above sought to hurl her backward to destruction.
Jason Gridley had witnessed cloudbursts in California and Arizona and
he knew how quickly gulleys and ravines may be transformed into raging
torrents. He had seen a river a mile wide formed in a few hours in
the San Simon Flats, and when he saw the sudden rush of waters in the
bottom of the gorge below him and realized that no storm that he had
ever previously witnessed could compare in magnitude with this, he lost
no time in seeking higher ground; but the sides of the canyon were
steep and his upward progress discouragingly slow, as he saw the waters
rising rapidly behind him. Yet there was hope, for just ahead and above
him he saw a gentle acclivity rising toward the summit of the canyon
rim.
As he struggled toward safety the boiling torrent rose and lapped his
feet, while from above the torrential rain thundered down upon him,
beating him backward so that often for a full minute at a time he could
make no headway.
The raging waters that were filling the gorge reached his knees and
for an instant he was swept from his footing. Clutching at the ground
above him with his hands, he lost his rifle, but as it slid into the
turgid waters he clambered swiftly upward and regained momentary safety.
Onward and upward he fought until at last he reached a spot above which
he was confident the flood could not reach and there he crouched in the
partial shelter of an overhanging granite ledge as Tarzan and Thoar and
Tar-gash were crouching in another part of the mountains, waiting in
dumb misery for the storm to spend its wrath.
He wondered if Jana had escaped the flood and so much confidence did
he have in her masterful ability to cope with the vagaries of savage
Pellucidarian life that he harbored few fears for her upon the score of
the storm.
In the cold and the dark and the wet he tried to plan for the future.
What chance had he to find The Red Flower of Zoram in this savage chaos
of stupendous peaks when he did not even know the direction in which
her country lay and where there were no roads or trails and where
even the few tracks that she might have left must have been wholly
obliterated by the torrents of water that had covered the whole surface
of the ground?
To stumble blindly on, then, seemed the only course left open to him,
since he knew neither the direction of Zoram, other than in a most
general way, nor had any idea as to the whereabouts of his fellow
members of the O-220 expedition.
At last the rain ceased; the sun burst forth upon a steaming world and
beneath the benign influence of its warm rays Jason felt the cold ashes
of hope rekindled within his breast. Revivified, he took up the search
that but now had seemed so hopeless.
Trying to bear in mind the general direction in which Jana had told
him Zoram lay, he set his face toward what appeared to be a low saddle
between two lofty peaks, which appeared to surmount the summit of the
range. Thirst no longer afflicted him and the pangs of hunger had
become deadened. Nor did it seem at all likely that he might soon
find food since the storm seemed to have driven all animal life from
the higher hills, but fortune smiled upon him. In a water worn rocky
hollow he found a nest of eggs that had withstood the onslaught of the
elements. The nature of the creature that had laid them he did not
know; nor whether they were the eggs of fowl or reptile did he care.
They were fresh and they were food and so large were they that the
contents of two of them satisfied his hunger.
A short distance from the spot where he had found them grew a low
stunted tree, and having eaten he carried the three remaining eggs
to this meager protection from the prying eyes of soaring reptiles
and birds of prey. Here he removed his clothing, hanging it upon the
branches of the tree where the sunlight might dry it, and then he lay
down beneath the tree to sleep, and in the warmth of Pellucidar's
eternal noon he found no discomfort.
How long a time he slept he had no means of estimating, but when he
awoke he was completely rested and refreshed. He was imbued with a
new sense of self-confidence as he arose, stretching luxuriously,
to don his clothes. His stretch half completed, he froze with
consternation--his clothes were gone! He looked hastily about for them
or for some sign of the creature that had purloined them, but never
again did he see the one, nor ever the other.
Upon the ground beneath the tree lay a shirt that, having fallen,
evidently escaped the eye of the marauder. That, his revolvers and
belts of ammunition, which had lain close to him while he slept, were
all that remained to him.
The temperature of Pellucidar is such that clothing is rather a burden
than a necessity, but so accustomed is civilized man to the strange
apparel with which he has encumbered himself for generations that,
bereft of it, his efficiency, self-reliance and resourcefulness are
reduced to a plane approximating the vanishing point.
Never in his life had Jason Gridley felt so helpless and futile as he
did this instant as he contemplated the necessity which stared him in
the face of going forth into this world clothed only in a torn shirt
and an ammunition belt. Yet he realized that with the exception of his
boots he had lost nothing that was essential either to his comfort or
his efficiency, but perhaps he was appalled most by the realization
of the effect that this misfortune would have upon the pursuit of the
main object of his quest--how could he prosecute the search for The Red
Flower of Zoram thus scantily appareled?
Of course The Red Flower had not been overburdened with wearing
apparel; yet in her case this seemed no reflection upon her modesty,
but the anticipation of finding her was now dampened by a realization
of the ridiculousness of the figure he would cut, and already the mere
contemplation of such a meeting caused a flush to overspread him.
In his dreams he had sometimes imagined himself walking abroad in some
ridiculous state of undress, but now that such a dream had become an
actuality he appreciated that in the figment of the subconscious mind
he had never fully realized such complete embarrassment and loss of
self-confidence as the actuality entailed.
Ruefully he tore his shirt into strips and devised a G-string; then
he buckled his ammunition belt around him and stepped forth into the
world, an Adam armed with two Colts.
As he proceeded upon his search for Zoram he found that the greatest
hardship which the loss of his clothing entailed was the pain and
discomfort attendant upon travelling barefoot on soles already
lacerated by his descent of the rough granite cliff. This discomfort,
however, he eventually partially overcame when with the return of the
game to the mountains he was able to shoot a small reptile, from the
hide of which he fashioned two crude sandals.
The sun, beating down upon his naked body, had no such effect upon
his skin as would the sun of the outer world under like conditions,
but it did impart to him a golden bronze color, which gave him a new
confidence similar to that which he would have felt had he been able
to retrieve his lost apparel, and in this fact he saw what he believed
to be the real cause of his first embarrassment at his nakedness--it
had been the whiteness of his skin that had made him seem so naked
by contrast with other creatures, for this whiteness had suggested
softness and weakness, arousing within him a disturbing sensation of
inferiority; but now as he took on his heavy coat of tan and his feet
became hardened and accustomed to the new conditions, he walked no
longer in constant realization of his nakedness.
He slept and ate many times and was conscious, therefore, that
considerable outer earthly time had passed since he had been separated
from Jana. As yet he had seen no sign of her or any other human
being, though he was often menaced by savage beasts and reptiles, but
experience had taught him how best to elude these without recourse to
his weapons, which he was determined to use only in extreme emergencies
for he could not but anticipate with misgivings the time, which
must sometime come, when the last of his ammunition would have been
exhausted.
He had crossed the summit of the range and found a fairer country
beyond. It was still wild and tumbled and rocky, but the vegetation
grew more luxuriantly and in many places the mountain slopes were
clothed in forests that reached far upward toward the higher peaks.
There were more streams and a greater abundance of smaller game, which
afforded him relief from any anxiety upon the score of food.
For the purpose of economizing his precious ammunition he had fashioned
other weapons; the influence of his association with Jana being
reflected in his spear, while to Tarzan of the Apes and the Waziri he
owed his crude bow and arrows. Before he had mastered the intricacies
of either of his new weapons he might have died of starvation had it
not been for his Colts, but eventually he achieved a sufficient degree
of adeptness to insure him a full larder at all times.
Jason Gridley had long since given up all hope of finding his ship or
his companions and had accepted with what philosophy he could command
the future lot from which there seemed no escape in which he visioned a
lifetime spent in Pellucidar, battling with his primitive weapons for
survival amongst the savage creatures of the inner world.
Most of all he missed human companionship and he looked forward to the
day that he might find a tribe of men with which he could cast his lot.
Although he was quite aware from the information that he had gleaned
from Jana that it might be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for
him to win either the confidence or the friendship of any Pellucidarian
tribe whose attitude towards strangers was one of habitual enmity; yet
he did not abandon hope and his eyes were always on the alert for a
sign of man; nor was he now to have long to wait.
He had lost all sense of direction in so far as the location of Zoram
was concerned and was wandering aimlessly from camp to camp in the idle
hope that some day he would stumble upon Zoram, when a breeze coming
from below brought to his nostrils the acrid scent of smoke. Instantly
his whole being was surcharged with excitement, for smoke meant fire
and fire meant man.
Moving cautiously down the mountain in the direction from which the
wind was blowing, his eager, searching eyes were presently rewarded by
sight of a thin wisp of smoke arising from a canyon just ahead. It was
a rocky canyon with precipitous walls, those upon the opposite side
from him being lofty, while that which he was approaching was much
lower and in many places so broken down by erosion or other natural
causes as to give ready ingress to the canyon bottom below.
Creeping stealthily to the rim Jason Gridley peered downward into
the canyon. Along the center of its grassy floor tumbled a mountain
torrent. Giant trees grew at intervals, lending a park-like appearance
to the scene; a similarity which was further accentuated by the
gorgeous blooms which starred the sward or blossomed in the trees
themselves.
Beside a small fire at the edge of a brook squatted a bronzed warrior,
his attention centered upon a fowl which he was roasting above the
fire. Jason, watching the warrior, deliberated upon the best method of
approaching him, that he might convince him of his friendly intentions
and overcome the natural suspicion of strangers that he knew to be
inherent in these savage tribesmen. He had decided that the best plan
would be to walk boldly down to the stranger, his hands empty of
weapons, and he was upon the point of putting his plan into action
when his attention was attracted to the summit of the cliff upon the
opposite side of the narrow canyon.
There had been no sound that had been appreciable to his ears and the
top of the opposite cliff had not been within the field of his vision
while he had been watching the man in the bottom of the canyon. So what
had attracted his attention he did not know, unless it had been the
delicate powers of perception inherent in that mysterious attribute of
the mind which we are sometimes pleased to call a sixth sense.
But be that as it may, his eyes moved directly to a spot upon the
summit of the opposite cliff where stood such a creature as no living
man upon the outer crust had ever looked upon before--a giant armored
dinosaur it was, a huge reptile that appeared to be between sixty and
seventy feet in length, standing at the rump, which was its highest
point, fully twenty-five feet above the ground. Its relatively small,
pointed head resembled that of a lizard. Along its spine were thin,
horny plates arranged alternately, the largest of which were almost
three feet high and equally as long, but with a thickness of little
more than an inch. The stout tail, which terminated in a long, horny
spine, was equipped with two other such spines upon the upper side and
toward the tip. Each of these spines was about three feet in length.
The creature walked upon four lizard-like feet, its short, front legs
bringing its nose close to the ground, imparting to it an awkward and
ungainly appearance.
It appeared to be watching the man in the canyon, and suddenly, to
Jason's amazement, it gathered its gigantic hind legs beneath it and
launched itself straight from the top of the lofty cliff.
Jason's first thought was that the gigantic creature would be dashed
to pieces upon the ground in the canyon bottom, but to his vast
astonishment he saw that it was not falling but was gliding swiftly
through the air, supported by its huge spinal plates, which it had
dropped to a horizontal position, transforming itself into a gigantic
animate glider.
The swish of its passage through the air attracted the attention of the
warrior squatting over his fire. The man leaped to his feet, snatching
up his spear as he did so, and simultaneously Jason Gridley sprang
over the edge of the cliff and leaped down the rough declivity toward
the lone warrior, at the same time whipping both his six-guns from
their holsters.