Jason Gridley ran swiftly up the hill toward the Phelian village in
which he hoped to find The Red Flower of Zoram and at his side was
Thoar, ready with spear and knife to rescue or avenge his sister, while
behind them, concealed by the underbrush that grew beneath the trees
along the river's bank, a company of swarthy, bearded men watched the
two.
To Thoar's surprise no defending warriors rushed from the building
they were approaching, nor did any sound come from the interior. "Be
careful," he cautioned Jason, "we may be running into a trap," and
the American, profiting by the advice of his companion, advanced more
cautiously. To the very entrance of the building they came and as yet
no opposition to their advance had manifested itself.
Jason stopped and looked through the low doorway, then, stooping, he
entered with Thoar at his heels.
"There is no one here," said Jason; "the building is deserted."
"Better luck in the next one then," said Thoar; but there was no one in
the next building, nor in the next, nor in any of the buildings of the
Phelian village.
"They have all gone," said Jason.
"Yes," replied Thoar, "but they will return. Let us go down among the
trees at the riverside and wait for them there in hiding."
Unconscious of danger, the two walked down the hillside and entered the
underbrush that grew luxuriantly beneath the trees. They followed a
narrow trail, worn by Phelian sandals.
Scarcely had the foliage closed about them when a dozen men sprang upon
them and bore them to the ground. In an instant they were disarmed and
their wrists bound behind their backs; then they were jerked roughly
to their feet and Jason Gridley's eyes went wide as they got the first
glimpse of his captors.
"Well, for Pete's sake!" he exclaimed. "I have learned to look with
comparative composure upon woolly rhinoceroses, mammoths, trachodons,
pterodactyls and dinosaurs, but I never expected to see Captain Kidd,
Lafitte and Sir Henry Morgan in the heart of Pellucidar."
In his surprise he reverted to his native tongue, which, of course,
none of the others understood.
"What language is that?" demanded one of their captors. "Who are you
and from what country do you come?"
"That is good old American, from the U.S.A.," replied Jason; "but who
the devil are you and why have you captured us?" and then turning to
Thoar, "these are not the Phelians, are they?"
"No," replied Thoar. "These are strange men, such as I have never
before seen."
"We know who you are," said one of the bearded men. "We know the
country from which you come. Do not try to deceive us."
"Very well, then, if you know, turn me loose, for you must know that we
haven't a war on with anyone."
"Your country is always at war with Korsar," replied the speaker. "You
are a Sarian. I know it by the weapons that you carry. The moment I
saw them, I knew that you were from distant Sari. The Cid will be glad
to have you and so will Bulf. Perhaps," he added, turning to one of
his fellows, "this is Tanar, himself. Did you see him when he was a
prisoner in Korsar?"
"No, I was away upon a cruise," replied the other. "I did not see him,
but if this is indeed he we shall be well rewarded."
"We might as well return to the ship now," said the first speaker.
"There is no use waiting any longer for these flat-footed natives with
but one chance in a thousand of finding a good looking woman among
them."
"They told us further down the river that these people sometimes
captured women from Zoram. Perhaps it would be well to wait."
"No," said the other, "I should like well enough to see one of these
women from Zoram that I have heard of all my life, but the natives will
not return as long as we are in the vicinity. We have been gone from
the ship too long now and if I know the captain, he will be wanting to
slit a few throats by the time we get back."
Moored to a tree along the shore and guarded by five other Korsars
was a ship's longboat, but of a style that was reminiscent of Jason's
boyhood reading as were the bearded men with their bizarre costumes,
their great pistols and cutlasses and their ancient arquebuses.
The prisoners were bundled into the boat, the Korsars entered and the
craft was pushed off into the stream, which here was narrow and swift.
As the current bore them rapidly along Jason had an opportunity to
examine his captors. They were as villainous a looking crew as he had
ever imagined outside of fiction and were more typically piratical than
the fiercest pirates of his imagination. What with earrings and, in
some instances, nose rings of gold, with the gay handkerchiefs bound
about their heads and body sashes around their waists, they would have
presented a gorgeous and colorful picture at a distance sufficiently
great to transform their dirt and patches into a pleasing texture.
Although in the story of Tanar of Pellucidar that Jason had received by
radio from Perry, he had become familiar with the appearance and nature
of the Korsars, yet he now realized that heretofore he had accepted
them more as he had accepted the pirates of history and of his boyhood
reading--as fictionary or, at best, legendary--and not men of flesh
and bone such as he saw before him, their mouths filled with oaths and
coarse jokes, the grime and filth of reality marking them as real human
beings.
In these savage Korsars, their boat, their apparel and their ancient
firearms, Jason saw conclusive proof of their descent from men of the
outer crust and realized how they must have carried to the mind of
David Innes an overwhelming conviction of the existence of a polar
opening leading from Pellucidar to the outer world.
While Thoar was disheartened by the fate that had thrown them into the
hands of these strange people, Jason was not at all sure but that it
might prove a stroke of fortune for himself, as from the conversation
and comments that he had heard since their capture it seemed reasonable
to assume that they were to be taken to Korsar, the city in which David
Innes was confined and which was, therefore, the first goal of their
expedition to effect the rescue of the Emperor of Pellucidar.
That he would arrive there alone and a prisoner were not in themselves
causes for rejoicing; yet, on the whole, he would be no worse off than
to remain wandering aimlessly through a country filled with unknown
dangers without the faintest shadow of a hope of ever being able to
locate his fellows. Now, at least, he was almost certain of being
transported to a place that they also were attempting to reach and thus
the chances of a reunion were so much the greater.
The stream down which they floated wound through a swampy forest,
crossing numerous lagoons that sometimes were a size that raised them
to the dignity of lakes. Everywhere the waters and the banks teemed
with reptilian life, suggesting to Jason Gridley that he was reviewing
a scene such as might have been enacted in a Mesozoic paradise
countless ages before upon the outer crust. So numerous and oftentimes
so colossal and belligerent were the savage reptiles that the descent
of the river became a running fight, during which the Korsars were
constantly upon the alert and frequently were compelled to discharge
their arquebuses in defense of their lives. More often than not the
noise of the weapons frightened off the attacking reptiles, but
occasionally one would persist in its attack until it had been killed;
nor was the possibility ever remote that in one of these encounters
some fierce and brainless saurian might demolish their craft and with
its fellows devour the crew.
Jason and Thoar had been placed in the middle of the boat, where they
squatted upon the bottom, their wrists still secured behind their
backs. Close to Jason was a Korsar whose fellows addressed him as
Lajo. There was something about this fellow that attracted Jason's
particular attention. Perhaps it was his more open countenance or a
less savage and profane demeanor. He had not joined the others in the
coarse jokes that were directed against their captives; in fact, he
paid little attention to anything other than the business of defending
the boat against the attacking monsters.
There seemed to be no one in command of the party, all matters being
discussed among them and in this way a decision arrived at; yet Jason
had noticed that the others listened attentively when Lajo spoke, which
was seldom, though always intelligently and to the point. Guided by
the result of these observations he selected Lajo as the most logical
Korsar through whom to make a request. At the first opportunity,
therefore, he attracted the man's attention.
"What do you want?" asked Lajo.
"Who is in command here?" asked Jason.
"No one," replied the Korsar. "Our officer was killed on the way up.
Why do you ask?"
"I want the bonds removed from our wrists," replied Jason. "We cannot
escape. We are unarmed and outnumbered and, therefore, cannot harm
you; while in the event that the boat is destroyed or capsized by any
of these reptiles we shall be helpless with our wrists tied behind our
backs."
Lajo drew his knife.
"What are you going to do?" asked one of the other Korsars who had been
listening to the conversation.
"I am going to cut their bonds," replied Lajo. "There is nothing to be
gained by keeping them bound."
"Who are you to say that their bonds shall be cut?" demanded the other
belligerently.
"Who are you to say that they shall not?" returned Lajo quietly, moving
toward the prisoners.
"I'll show you who I am," shouted the other, whipping out his knife and
advancing toward Lajo.
There was no hesitation. Like a panther Lajo swung upon his adversary,
striking up the other's knife-hand with his left forearm and at the
same time plunging his villainous looking blade to the hilt in the
other's breast. Voicing a single blood-curdling scream the man sank
lifeless to the bottom of the boat. Lajo wrenched his knife from the
corpse, wiped it upon his adversary's shirt and quietly cut the bonds
that confined the wrists of Thoar and Jason. The other Korsars looked
on, apparently unmoved by the killing of their fellow, except for
a coarse joke or two at the expense of the dead man and a grunt of
approbation for Lajo's act.
The killer removed the weapons from the body of the dead man and cast
them aft out of reach of the prisoners, then he motioned to the corpse.
"Throw it overboard," he commanded, addressing Jason and Thoar.
"Wait," cried another member of the crew. "I want his boots."
"His sash is mine," cried another, and presently half a dozen of them
were quarreling over the belongings of the corpse like a pack of dogs
over a bone. Lajo took no part in this altercation and presently the
few wretched belongings that had served to cover the nakedness of
the dead man were torn from his corpse and divided among them by the
simple expedient of permitting the stronger to take what they could;
then Jason and Thoar eased the naked body over the side, where it was
immediately seized upon by voracious denizens of the river.
Interminable, to an unknown destination, seemed the journey to Jason.
They ate and slept many times and still the river wound through the
endless swamp. The luxuriant vegetation and flowering blooms which
lined the banks long since had ceased to interest, their persistent
monotony making them almost hateful to the eyes.
Jason could not but wonder at the superhuman efforts that must have
been necessary to row this large, heavy boat upstream in the face of
all the terrific assaults which must have been launched upon it by the
reptilian hordes that contested every mile of the downward journey.
But presently the landscape changed, the river widened and the low
swamp gave way to rolling hills. The forests, which still lined
the banks, were freer from underbrush, suggesting that they might
be the feeding grounds of droves of herbivorous animals, a theory
that was soon substantiated by sight of grazing herds, among which
Jason recognized red deer, bison, bos and several other species of
herbivorous animals. The forest upon the right bank was open and sunny
and with its grazing herds presented a cheerful aspect of warmth and
life, but the forest upon the left bank was dark and gloomy. The
foliage of the trees, which grew to tremendous proportions, was so
dense as practically to shut out the sunlight, the space between the
boles giving the impression of long, dark aisles, gloomy and forbidding.
There were fewer reptiles in the stream here, but the Korsars appeared
unusually nervous and apprehensive of danger after they entered this
stretch of the river. Previously they had been drifting with the
current, using but a single oar, scull fashion, from the stern to
keep the nose of the boat pointed downstream, but now they manned the
oars, pressing Jason and Thoar into service to row with the others.
Loaded arquebuses lay beside the oarsmen, while in the bow and stern
armed men were constantly upon watch. They paid little attention to
the right bank of the river, but toward the dark and gloomy left bank
they directed their nervous, watchful gaze. Jason wondered what it was
that they feared, but he had no opportunity to inquire and there was
no respite from the rowing, at least not for him or Thoar, though the
Korsars alternated between watching and rowing.
Between oars and current they were making excellent progress, though
whether they were close to the end of the danger zone or not, Jason
had no means of knowing any more than he could guess the nature of the
menace which must certainly threaten them if aught could be judged by
the attitude of the Korsars.
The two prisoners were upon the verge of exhaustion when Lajo noticed
their condition and relieved them from the oars. How long they had
been rowing, Jason could not determine, although he knew that while
no one had either eaten or slept, since they had entered this stretch
of the river, the time must have been considerable. The distance they
had come he estimated roughly at something over a hundred miles,
and he and Thoar had been continuously at the oars during the entire
period, without food or sleep, but they had barely thrown themselves
to the bottom of the boat when a cry, vibrant with excitement, arose
from the bow. "There they are!" shouted the man, and instantly all was
excitement aboard the boat.
"Keep to the oars!" shouted Lajo. "Our best chance is to run through
them."
Although almost too spent with fatigue to find interest even in
impending death, Jason dragged himself to a sitting position that
raised his eyes above the level of the gunwales of the boat. At first
he could not even vaguely classify the horde of creatures swimming
out upon the bosom of the placid river with the evident intention
of intercepting them, but presently he saw that they were man-like
creatures riding upon the backs of hideous reptiles. They bore long
lances and their scaly mounts sped through the waters at incredible
speed. As the boat approached them he saw that the creatures were not
men, though they had the forms of men, but were grotesque and horrid
reptiles with the heads of lizards to whose naturally frightful mien,
pointed ears and short horns added a certain horrid grotesquery.
"My God!" he exclaimed. "What are they?"
Thoar, who had also dragged himself to a sitting posture, shuddered.
"They are the Horibs," he said. "It is better to die than to fall into
their clutches."
Carried downward by the current and urged on by the long sweeps and its
own terrific momentum, the heavy boat shot straight toward the hideous
horde. The distance separating them was rapidly closing; the boat was
almost upon the leading Horib when an arquebus in the bow spoke. Its
loud report broke the menacing silence that had overhung the river
like a pall. Directly in front of the boat's prow the horde of Horibs
separated and a moment later they were racing along on either side of
the craft. Arquebuses were belching smoke and fire, scattering the
bits of iron and pebbles with which they were loaded among the hissing
enemy, but for every Horib that fell there were two to take its place.
Now they withdrew to a little distance, but with apparently no effort
whatever their reptilian mounts kept pace with the boat and then, one
after another on either side, a rider would dart in and cast his lance;
nor apparently ever did one miss its mark. So deadly was their aim that
the Korsars were compelled to abandon their oars and drop down into the
bottom of the boat, raising themselves above the gunwales only long
enough to fire their arquebuses, when they would again drop down into
concealment to re-load. But even these tactics could not preserve them
for long, since the Horibs, darting in still closer to the side of the
boat, could reach over the edge and lance the inmates. Straight to the
muzzles of the arquebuses they came, apparently entirely devoid of any
conception of fear; great holes were blown entirely through the bodies
of some, others were decapitated, while more than a score lost a hand
or an arm, yet still they came.
Presently exhausted and without weapons to defend themselves, Jason and
Thoar had remained lying upon the bottom of the boat almost past caring
what fate befell them. Half covered by the corpses of the Korsars that
had fallen, they lay in a pool of blood. About them arquebuses still
roared amid screams and curses, and above all rose the shrill, hissing
screech that seemed to be the war cry of the Horibs.
The boat was dragged to shore and the rope made fast about the bole of
a tree, though three times the Korsars had cut the line and three times
the Horibs had been forced to replace it.
There was only a handful of the crew who had not been killed or wounded
when the Horibs left their mounts and swarmed over the gunwales to fall
upon their prey. Cutlasses, knives and arquebuses did their deadly
work, but still the slimy snake-men came, crawling over the bodies of
their dead to fall upon the survivors until the latter were practically
buried by greater numbers.
When the battle was over there were but three Korsars who had escaped
death or serious wounds--Lajo was one of them. The Horibs bound their
wrists and took them ashore, after which they started unloading the
dead and wounded from the boat, killing the more seriously wounded with
their knives. Coming at last upon Jason and Thoar and finding them
unwounded, they bound them as they had the living Korsars and placed
them with the other prisoners on the shore.
The battle over, the prisoners secured, the Horibs now fell upon the
corpses of the dead, nor did they rest until they had devoured them
all, while Jason and his fellow prisoners sat nauseated with horror
during the grizzly feast. Even the Korsars, cruel and heartless as they
were, shuddered at the sight.
"Why do you suppose they are saving us?" asked Jason.
Lajo shook his head. "I do not know," he said.
"Doubtless to feed us to their women and children," said Thoar. "They
say that they keep their human prisoners and fatten them."
"You know what they are? You have seen them before?" Lajo asked Thoar.
"Yes, I know what they are," said Thoar, "but these are the first that
I have ever seen. They are the Horibs, the snake people. They dwell
between the Rela Am and the Gyor Cors."
As Jason watched the Horibs at their grizzly feast, he became suddenly
conscious of a remarkable change that was taking place in their
appearance. When he had first seen them and all during the battle they
had been of a ghastly bluish color, the hands, feet and faces being
several shades paler than the balance of the body, but as they settled
down to their gory repast this hue gradually faded to be replaced by a
reddish tinge, which varied in intensity in different individuals, the
faces and extremities of a few of whom became almost crimson as the
feast progressed.
If the appearance and blood-thirsty ferocity of the creatures appalled
him, he was no less startled when he first heard them converse in the
common language of the men of Pellucidar.
The general conformation of the creatures, their weapons, which
consisted of long lances and stone knives, the apron-like apparel which
they wore and the evident attempt at ornamentation as exemplified by
the insignia upon the breasts of their garments and the armlets which
they wore, all tended toward establishing a suggestion of humanity that
was at once grotesque and horrible, but when to these other attributes
was added human speech the likeness to man created an impression that
was indescribably repulsive.
So powerful was the fascination that the creatures aroused in the mind
of Jason that he could divert neither his thoughts nor his eyes from
them. He noticed that while the majority of them were about six feet
in height, there were many much smaller, ranging downward to about
four feet, while there was one tremendous individual that must have
been fully nine feet tall; yet all were proportioned identically and
the difference in height did not have the appearance of being at all
related to a difference in age, except that the scales upon the largest
of them were considerably thicker and coarser. Later, however, he
was to learn that differences in size predicated differences in age,
the growth of these creatures being governed by the same law which
governs the growth of reptiles, which, unlike mammals, continue to grow
throughout the entire duration of their lives.
When they had gorged themselves upon the flesh of the Korsars,
the Horibs lay down, but whether to sleep or not Jason never knew
since their lidless eyes remained constantly staring. And now a new
phenomenon occurred. Gradually the reddish tinge faded from their
bodies to be replaced by a dull brownish gray, which harmonized with
the ground upon which they lay.
Exhausted by his long tour at the oars and by the horrors that he had
witnessed, Jason gradually drifted off into deep slumber, which was
troubled by hideous dreams in which he saw Jana in the clutches of a
Horib. The creature was attempting to devour The Red Flower of Zoram,
while Jason struggled with the bonds that secured him.
He was awakened by a sharp pain in his shoulder and opening his eyes he
saw one of the homosaurians, as he had mentally dubbed them, standing
over him, prodding him with the point of his sharp lance. "Make less
noise," said the creature, and Jason realized that he must have been
raving in his sleep.
The other Horibs were rising from the ground, voicing strange whistling
hisses, and presently from the waters of the river and from the
surrounding aisles of the gloomy forest their hideous mounts came
trooping in answer to the summons.
"Stand up!" said the Horib who had awakened Jason. "I am going to
remove your bonds," he continued. "You cannot escape. If you try to you
will be killed. Follow me," he then commanded after he had removed the
thongs which secured Jason's wrists.
Jason accompanied the creature into the midst of the herd of periosauri
that was milling about, snapping and hissing, along the shore of the
river.
Although the Gorobors all looked alike to Jason, it was evident that
the Horibs differentiated between individuals among them for he who was
leading Jason threaded his way through the mass of slimy bodies until
he reached the side of a particular individual.
"Get up," he said, motioning Jason to mount the creature. "Sit well
forward on its neck."
It was with a sensation of the utmost disgust that Jason vaulted
onto the back of the Gorobor. The feel of its cold, clammy, rough
hide against his naked legs sent a chilly shudder up his spine. The
reptile-man mounted behind him and presently the entire company was
on the march, each of the other prisoners being mounted in front of a
Horib.
Into the gloomy forest the strange cavalcade marched, down dark,
winding corridors overhung with dense vegetation, much of which was of
a dead pale cast through lack of sunlight. A clammy chill, unusual in
Pellucidar, pervaded the atmosphere and a feeling of depression weighed
heavily upon all the prisoners.
"What are you going to do with us?" asked Jason after they had
proceeded in silence for some distance.
"You will be fed upon eggs until you are fit to be eaten by the females
and the little ones," replied the Horib. "They tire of fish and Gyor
flesh. It is not often that we get as much gilak meat as we have just
had."
Jason relapsed into silence, discovering that, as far as he was
concerned, the Horib was conversationally a total loss and for long
after the horror of the creature's reply weighed upon his mind. It
was not that he feared death; it was the idea of being fattened for
slaughter that was peculiarly abhorrent.
As they rode between the never ending trees he tried to speculate as
to the origin of these grewsome creatures. It seemed to him that they
might constitute a supreme effort upon the part of Nature to reach
a higher goal by a less devious route than that which evolution had
pursued upon the outer crust from the age of reptiles upwards to the
age of man.
During the march Jason caught occasional glimpses of Thoar and the
other prisoners, though he had no opportunity to exchange words
with them, and after what seemed an interminable period of time the
cavalcade emerged from the forest into the sunlight and Jason saw in
the distance the shimmering blue water of an inland lake. As they
approached its shores he discerned throngs of Horibs, some swimming or
lolling in the waters of the lake, while others lay or squatted upon
the muddy bank. As the company arrived among them they showed only a
cold, reptilian interest in the returning warriors, though some of the
females and young evinced a suggestive interest in the prisoners.
The adult females differed but slightly from the males. Aside from the
fact that they were hornless and went naked Jason could discover no
other distinguishing feature. He saw no signs of a village, nor any
indication of arts or crafts other than those necessary to produce
their crude weapons and the simple apron-like armor that the warriors
wore to protect the soft skin of their bellies.
On the way they passed a number of females laying eggs which they
deposited in the soft, warm mud just above the water line, covering
them lightly with mud, afterwards pushing a slender stake into the
ground at the spot to mark the nest. All along the shore at this point
were hundreds of such stakes and further on Jason saw several tiny
Horibs, evidently but just hatched, wriggling upward out of the mud. No
one paid the slightest attention to them as they stumbled and reeled
about trying to accustom themselves to the use of their limbs, upon all
four of which they went at first, like tiny, grotesque lizards.
Arrived at the higher bank the warrior in charge of Thoar, who was in
the lead, suddenly clapped his hand over the prisoner's mouth, pinching
Thoar's nose tightly between his thumb and first finger, and, without
other preliminaries, dove head foremost into the waters of the lake
carrying his victim with him.
Jason was horrified as he saw his friend and companion disappear
beneath the muddy waters, which, after a moment of violent agitation,
settled down again, leaving only an ever widening circular ripple to
mark the spot where the two had disappeared. An instant later another
Horib dove in with Lajo and in rapid succession the other two Korsars
shared a similar fate.
With a superhuman effort Jason sought to tear himself free from the
clutches of his captor, but the cold, clammy hands held him tightly.
One of them was suddenly clapped over his mouth and nose and an instant
later he felt the warm waters of the lake close about him.
Still struggling to free himself he was conscious that the Horib was
carrying him swiftly beneath the surface. Presently he felt slimy mud
beneath him, along which his body was being dragged. His lungs cried
out in tortured agony for air, his senses reeled and momentarily all
went black before him, though no blacker than the stygian darkness of
the hole into which he was being dragged, and then the hand was removed
from his mouth and nose; mechanically his lungs gasped for air and as
consciousness slowly returned Jason realized that he was not drowned,
but that he was lying upon a bed of mud inhaling air and not water.
Total darkness surrounded him; he felt a clammy body scrape against
his, and then another and another. There was a sound of splashing,
gurgling water and then silence--the silence of the tomb.