As Nat-ul, surprised by Tur in her spying upon the village of the Boat
Builders, fled north along the beach she had little hope of permanently
distancing her pursuer. But she could do no less than flee, hoping
against hope, that some chance accident might save her from capture.
It was in her mind to dodge into the jungle where it came down close to
the water a quarter of a mile ahead of her. Here she might elude the
man and reach the cliffs that lay a short distance inland. Once there,
there was an excellent chance of hiding from him or holding him off
with pieces of rock until nightfall. Then she would retrace her steps
northward, for it was evident that her people had not traveled in this
direction.
The jungle was already quite close, but, on the other hand, the man
was gaining upon her. Could she reach the tangled screen in time to
elude him before he should be upon her? At least she could do no less
than try.
Suddenly from directly above her head came a loud flapping of great
wings. A black shadow fell upon the sand about her. She glanced upward,
and the sight that met her eyes froze her brave heart in terror. There,
poised just above her ready to strike with its mighty talons, hovered
one of those huge flying reptiles, that even in Nat-ul's day were
practically extinct--a gigantic pterodactyl.
The man behind her screamed a shout of warning. He launched his barbed
spear for the great creature, catching it in the fatty portion of the
long tail, near the body. With a whistling scream of pain and rage the
hideous thing swooped down upon the girl beneath. Nat-ul felt the huge
talons close upon her body. The heavy hide that covered her kept them
from piercing through to her flesh as the pterodactyl rose swiftly,
bearing her victim with her.
For a moment Nat-ul had battled and struggled for freedom, but almost
at once she had realized the futility of her pitiful efforts. In
that awful clutch even the cave-bear or the bull bos would have been
helpless. Now she hung inert and limp, waiting for the end. She could
not even draw her stone knife, for one of the great talons was closed
tightly over it where it rested in the cord that supported her loin
cloth.
Below her she could see the tossing waters. The thing was bearing her
far out from shore. The great wings flapped noisily above her. The long
neck and the hideous head were stretched far forward as the creature
flew in a straight line, high in air.
Presently the girl saw land ahead. Terror filed her heart as she
realized that the thing was bearing her to the mysterious country that
lay far out upon the bosom of the Restless Sea. She had dreamed of this
strange, unattainable country. There were stories among her people of
the awful creatures that dwelt within it. She had sometimes longed to
visit it, but always with the brave warriors of her tribe to protect
her. To come thus alone to the terrifying shore, in the clutches
of the most fearsome beast that terrified primeval man was beyond
conception. Her mind was partially stupefied by the enormity of the
fate that had overwhelmed her.
Now the great reptile was above the nearest island. A jagged, rocky
hill raised its bare summit in a huge index finger that pointed
straight into the air far above the surrounding hill tops and the dense
vegetation of the encircling jungle. Toward this the creature bore its
prey. As it hovered above the rocky pinnacle Nat-ul glanced fearfully
downward. Directly below her her horrified sight fell upon the goal
toward which her captor had been winging its rapid way--upon the cruel
and hideous fate that awaited her there.
Craning their long necks upward from a cup-like nest of mud matted
grasses three young pterodactyls shrilled and hissed in anticipatory
joy at their returning mother and the food she brought them.
Several times the adult circled above the young, dropping lower and
lower toward the nest in a diminishing spiral. For a second she hovered
almost at rest, a few feet above them. Then she loosed her hold upon
Nat-ul, dropping her squarely amongst her wide-jawed progeny, and with
a final wheel above them soared away in search of her own dinner.
As Nat-ul touched the nest three sets of sharp toothed jaws snapped at
her simultaneously. The creatures were quite young, but for all of that
they were formidable antagonists, with their many teeth, their sharp
talons and their strong tails.
The girl dodged the first assault and drew her knife. Here was no time
or place for hysteria or nerves. Death, unthinkably horrible, was upon
her. Her chances of escape were practically non-existent, and yet,
so strong is the instinct of self-preservation, Nat-ul battled as
heroically as though safety depended upon a single lucky knife thrust.
And, though she knew it not, so it did. The three heads were close
together as the three monsters sought greedily to devour the tender
morsel brought to them by their parent. Nat-ul for a moment eluded the
snapping jaws of the awkward young, and then as the three heads came
together in a mad attempt to seize her she plunged her blade into two
of the long, scraggy necks. Instantly the wounded creatures set up a
chorus of whistling shrieks. Their minute brains told them only that
they had been hurt, and with bestial fury they set upon one another,
each attributing its pain to one of its fellows. Instantly the nest
became a mad whirling of wings, tails and hideous jaws. The two that
had been wounded set upon each other, and the third, ignoring Nat-ul,
fell upon the two contestants with impartial fury.
Taking advantage of their distraction the girl clambered quickly over
the side of the nest. Below her the sheer side of the lofty pinnacle
dropped fearfully downward a hundred feet. Vertical crevices and slight
protuberances of harder rocks that had withstood the ravages of time
and the elements afforded the only means of descent. But death, certain
and terrible, lay in the nest. Below, there was some hope, however
slight.
Clinging to the outside of the nest Nat-ul lowered her body until her
feet found a precarious foothold upon a slightly jutting surface of the
spire-like needle. Slowly she lowered herself, clinging desperately to
each crevice and outcropping. Time and time again it seemed that she
must give up, and cling where she was until, exhausted, she toppled to
the depth below. Twice she circled the rocky finger in search of a new
foothold further down, and each time, when hope seemed hopeless, she
had found some meager thing, once only a little rounded roughness, to
which her hand or foot could cling a few inches further away from the
awful nest above her.
And so at last she came to the base of the gigantic needle, but even
here she could not rest. At any moment the mighty mother might return
and snatch her back once more to the horrors of her slimy nest.
The descent of the lower summit was, in places, but little less
hazardous than that of the surmounting spire; but finally it was
accomplished and Nat-ul found herself in a broad ravine, densely
wooded. Here she lay down upon the grass to rest, for her labors had
exhausted her. She knew not what other dangers menaced her; but for
the moment she was numb to further terror. Pillowing her head upon her
arm she fell asleep.
About her were the million sounds of the jungle--the lesser animals,
the birds, the insects, the swaying branches. They but lulled her to
deeper slumber. The winds blowing up the ravine from the sea, fanned
her cheek. It moved the soft, luxuriant hair that fell about her
shoulders. It soothed and comforted her, but it did not whisper to her
of the close-set, wicked eyes that peered out of the trees upon her.
It did not warn her of the drooling jaws, the pendulous lower lip, the
hairy breast beneath which a savage heart beat faster as the little
eyes feasted upon her form. It did not tell her that a huge body had
slipped from a nearby tree and was slinking toward her. It did not tell
her; but a broken twig, snapping beneath the wary foot of the stalker,
did.
Among the primordial there was no easy transition from sleep to
wakefulness. There could not be for those who would survive. As the
twig snapped Nat-ul was upon her feet facing the new danger that
menaced her. She saw a great man-like form slinking toward her. She saw
the reddish hair that covered the giant body. She saw the pig eyes and
the wolf fangs, the hulking slouch of the heavy torso upon the short,
crooked legs. And seeing, all in one swift glance, she turned and fled
up the face of the cliff down which she had so recently descended.
As she clambered swiftly aloft the creature behind her rushed forward
in pursuit, and behind him came a half dozen others like him. Nat-ul
knew them as the hairy, tree people. They differed from the greater
ape-folk in that they went always upon two legs when on the ground, and
when they were killed and cut up for food they yielded one less rib
than their apish prototype. She knew how terrible it was to fall into
their hands--worse than the fate that had almost claimed her in the
lofty nest, far above.
A hundred feet up the cliff side Nat-ul paused to look back. A dozen
yards below her was the hairy one. The girl loosened a bit of rock
and hurled it down upon him. He dodged it, and with a shrill scream
continued the pursuit. Upward she fled for another hundred feet. Again
she paused to look downward. The tree-man was gaining on her. She
loosened a bit of quartz and dropped it upon him. Just below him were
six others. The missile struck her foremost pursuer. He toppled for an
instant, and then tumbled backward upon those behind him. He knocked
one from a scant hand hold upon the precipitous cliff, and the two
dashed violently downward toward the jagged rocks at the bottom.
With an exultant taunt upon her lips Nat-ul resumed her upward flight.
Now she came to a point near the summit. The hillside was less steep.
Here she could go with only occasional use of her hands. Half way up,
her foot slipped upon a loose, round rock. She fell heavily to the
ground, clutching for support as she did so. The few rocks that met her
hands gave way beneath her weight. With sickening velocity she hurtled
down toward the brink of the perpendicular cliff face--toward mangled,
tortured death beside the bodies of the two who had preceded her to the
same destruction.
Above the brink of the chasm the first of the remaining pursuers was
emerging. He was directly in the path of Nat-ul's swiftly rolling
body. It struck him in his hairy breast, hurling him backward into the
precipice, to his death. But his body had served a purpose. It had
broken the velocity of the girl's fall, so that now she but rolled
gently over the edge of the cliff, clutching at the top as she went,
and thus further diminishing her speed.
Directly below the summit lay a narrow ledge. Upon this Nat-ul came
almost to a full stop, but there was nothing there upon which she could
gain a handhold, and so she toppled slowly over the edge--into the arms
of another of the man-apes.
Close beside him was one of his fellows, and a little way below the
third who remained of the original six. The nearer clutched at Nat-ul
to drag her from the arms of her captor, who drew back with bared fangs
and menacing growl. But the other was insistent. Evidently he desired
the prey fully as much as he who had obtained it. He came closer. The
ledge upon which they stood was very narrow. A battle there would have
meant death for all three.
With a cat-like leap the creature that held Nat-ul in his arms sprang
to one side, turned, and with the strength and agility of a chamois
leaped down the steep cliff face. In his path was the remaining
tree-man. To have met that charge would have meant being catapulted
to the bottom of the ravine. Wisely, the man-ape sidestepped, but
immediately the two had passed he fell into pursuit of them. Behind him
came the other that Nat-ul's captor had eluded.
There ensued a mad chase that often blanched the cheek of the almost
fearless cave girl. From the base of the cliffs the man-ape leaped
across the intervening jungle toward the trees. To the lower branches
of these he took without lessening his speed in the least. He almost
flew, so swiftly he passed through the tangled mazes of the primeval
forest.
Close behind him, screaming and roaring came his two fellows, intent
upon robbing him of his prey. He carried Nat-ul across one shoulder,
gripping her firmly with a gigantic hand. She could plainly see the
pursuers behind them. They were gaining on their burdened fellow.
Already the foremost was reaching out to clutch the girl. Her captor
shooting a quick glance rearward discovered the imminence of his
despoilment. Wheeling suddenly upon the precarious trail he snapped
viciously at the nearer pursuer, who, with bared fangs and growling
horribly, retreated out of reach. Then the creature recommenced his
flight only to be at once pursued again by his two kinsmen.
Up and down the jungle the savage trio raced. Twice they crossed the
heights separating one ravine from another. More and more insistent
became the pursuers. Oftener the captor was forced to halt with his
prize and fight off first one of them and then the other. At last, at
the edge of the jungle close to the mouth of a narrow, rocky gorge the
beast went mad with rage. He wheeled suddenly upon his pursuers, hurled
Nat-ul heavily to the ground, and charged, roaring and foaming, upon
them.
They were running side by side, and so quick was the offensive
movement of their fellow that they had no time to dodge him. His great
hands seized them and then all three went to the earth, tearing at one
another, burying their formidable tusks in throat and breast, and all
the while keeping up a terrific growling and roaring.
Warily Nat-ul raised herself upon all fours. Her eyes were fastened
intently upon the three savage beasts. They paid no attention to her.
It was evident that their every faculty was wholly engaged in the life
and death struggle upon which they had entered. Nat-ul came to her
feet and without another backward glance fled into the narrow gorge
behind her. She ran as swiftly as she could that she might put as great
a distance as possible between herself and the horrid beasts that
battled for her. Where the gorge led she had no conception. What other
horrors lay at its end she could not guess. She only knew that hope had
almost left her, for that she ever could regain the mainland she had
not the faintest belief. Nor could her people succor her even should
they discover her whereabouts, which in itself was equally beyond the
pale of probability. That she could long survive the dangers of the
mysterious country she doubted. Even a mighty warrior, fully armed,
would fare ill in this place of terror. What, indeed, was to become of
a girl armed only with a knife!
That Nu already was searching for her she did not doubt; but long ere
this the tide had washed the imprints of her sandals from the sandy
beach. Where would he search? And even had he followed her spoor before
the tide had erased it how could he guess what had befallen her, or
interpret the sudden ending of her trail in the center of the beach?
The stranger had seen the winged reptile pounce upon her and bear her
away; but even if Nu should come upon him how could he learn of the
truth, since the moment that the two met they would fall upon one
another in mortal combat, as was the way of strangers then.
Or if, by any chance, Nu discovered that she had been carried to the
mysterious country how could he follow, even though he believed,
against all reason, that she still lived?
No, there seemed no hope anywhere upon Nat-ul's horizon, or below it.
There was nothing left for her but to battle for survival, pitting her
wits and her agility against the brute force and cunning of the brutes
that would menace her to the end of her days--the end that could not be
far distant.
The windings of the gorge as she traversed it downward had shut off
the louder sounds of the combat raging behind her, though still she
could hear an occasional roar, or shriller scream of pain. She hoped
that they would fight until all were dead. Otherwise the survivor would
continue the pursuit.
As she stopped once to listen that she might know the three were still
engaged in battle she turned her eyes backward up the gorge, so that,
for the moment, she failed to see that she had reached the end of the
narrow canyon and that the beach and the sea lay before her. Nor did
she see the figure of the man who came to a sudden stop at the gorge's
mouth as his eyes fell upon her, nor the quick movement that took him
behind a projecting boulder.
Satisfied that she was not as yet being pursued Nat-ul resumed her way
down the rocky trail. As she turned she saw the sea, and, far away, the
mainland across the water. She hurried onward toward the beach, that
she might reach a point as close as possible to her beloved country.
As she passed the boulder behind which the man hid the scraping of a
pebble beneath his sandal attracted her attention. She wheeled toward
him and then turned to fly; but he was too close. Already he had leaped
for her. One brawny hand closed in her flowing hair, the other grasped
the wrist of the upraised hand in which the long knife of the girl had
flashed above him with incredible swiftness.
He laughed in her face--it was the stranger who had pursued her upon
the mainland beach--and then he drew her toward him. Nat-ul fought like
a tigress, and once she screamed.