ACROSS THE DESERT CHADOS.
We awoke at dawn feeling like new men, scarcely being able to realise
the fact that we were free! The events of yesterday still lingered
in our minds, like the remnants of a more than usually vivid dream.
That all was real and true we could not bring ourselves to believe, so
awful and inhuman seemed the doom we had so miraculously escaped. But
the sun, as it rose in solemn splendour above the eastern edge of this
strange world, soon dispelled our morbid thoughts and cheered us into
activity. The view from the balcony of the _Sirius_ was grand, though
the country round us was sterile and desolate as the Valley of Death
below Remagaloth, from which we had been delivered at yester e'en! But
we had life and liberty; the future was once more before us, full of
hopes and possibilities, and each one felt that the worst was over and
brighter prospects were now before us.
We found everything in the _Sirius_ precisely as we had left it.
Evidently the people of Edos had shunned our carriage, and desired
that we and all our belongings might be destroyed together. This was a
fortunate circumstance for us, for had the _Sirius_ been dismantled and
pillaged we should have been in this wilderness without food. As soon
as breakfast was over we consulted together as to what was best to be
done.
"There is no help for it, my friends," said the Doctor; "the _Sirius_
is wrecked, and we shall have to leave her to her fate. Alas! she can
give us safety no longer, and we may stay in her at our peril. We may
be sure a search will be made for us, and that very quickly. Our only
course is to abandon her, taking with us as many absolute necessaries
as we can conveniently carry among us, and set off at once towards more
fertile country. The future must take care of itself entirely, and we
be guided further solely by circumstances."
"But, Doctor, is there no hope of patching her up for a little time
longer?"
"None, Graham; our motors are worn out; our generating material
exhausted. We should require all the resources of a civilised community
to make good her defects and replenish her power."
"Then there is nothing for it but to do as you suggest, Doctor," said
Temple; and Graham reluctantly acquiesced.
While the Doctor and Sandy selected such articles as we were going to
take, Temple and Graham went outside to reconnoitre, and to decide as
to the best route we should take.
There was little choice to be made. Radiating in every direction from
where we stood, the wide desert extended in one vast scene of ruinous
waste. We stood on a wide uneven rock- and sand-strewn plain, which
reached to the horizon on every side. Not a trace of vegetation could
we detect sprouting from the bitter, ungenerous soil; not a stream or
a pool cheered its wide expanse. All round the horizon were mountains
of bare and forbidding aspect; some of them crested with what looked
like snow; others volcanic, and belching smoke and fire. The route
toward the north-east seemed the most feasible, for in that direction
the mountains were not so high, and an apparent break in the rocky
girdle suggested an easier passage over them.
"North-east it must be, Mr. Temple. We ought to reach the mountains by
to-morrow afternoon, and get through yonder pass to the country beyond
them by evening of the next day, at latest."
"I think so, too," said Temple. "And now that is decided, let me take
the opportunity of our few moments alone together, sincerely to thank
you for our deliverance from death yesterday. You have saved my life,
Graham, and anything that I can do in return I shall be only too
pleased. I have not cared to speak thus to you before the Doctor, as I
know the subject is distasteful to him. Whenever a woman is concerned,
no matter how remotely, all his good-humour and generosity vanish. He
absolutely hates women, and all to do with them."
"Pray, Mr. Temple, do not thank me. I was but the agent of our
deliverance, after all. Thank this wonderful priest, Echri, for it was
he who saved us through Volinè's mystic ring. Why, or how, we know not;
yet I am as sure of it as I am of my own existence. I cannot expect
you and the rest to be so credulous as to believe in its virtues," he
continued, looking at the ring and twirling it round his finger as he
spoke, "but the feelings that came over me when I broke those fetters,
yesternight, can never be expressed in words. Ask me not to attempt to
describe them; for I desire to keep what I then felt a sacred secret."
"But talking of Volinè, Graham; I am really very sorry for you. It
recalls my own young days when I wooed and won the charming girl who
became my wife, but only to die with her infant son in twelve short
fleeting months, and to leave me in lonely sorrow. I have not got over
that trouble, Graham, and I never shall, twenty years old though it is."
"Then, Mr. Temple, you can slightly understand my infatuation, my
sincere love for this girl of Gathma. Is she not worthy of all the love
that man can give? She is as good and as true as she is handsome. And
yet, all now is over between us--all is over, and I shall see her no
more!"
"But you must cheer up. Don't let the Doctor see your weakness, for it
will only make unpleasantness amongst us. Things may come right yet.
You know the old Earth-saying about all things coming to him who waits?
Something tells me that even now we have not seen the last of Edos, or
of the King of Gathma's daughter."
"That you may be a true prophet, then, is my one prayer. For I love
Volinè, and without her my life is dreary and desolate as this desert
around us."
"Well, Graham, we had better get back to the _Sirius_ now. I daresay
the Doctor is ready to start by this time; and if you take my advice
you will let the subject of Volinè, and all that happened in Edos,
form no part of our conversation. The Doctor has strange ideas--what
man of genius has not?--and at present it is best to humour him, for
we require all his undivided energies to bring us safely through our
perils."
So conversing, Temple and Graham walked back towards the _Sirius_,
where we found the Doctor and Sandy had arranged into four packs the
various necessaries he had selected from the stores.
"Well, friends, what is the result of your exploration?" said the
Doctor, smiling, and looking up from one of the packages he was
strapping together.
"Travelling will be slow, Doctor," answered Graham, "for the ground
is covered with loose sand and rough broken rock. Our best course is
north-east, towards the rent or defile in the mountains yonder. We
should reach them by to-morrow afternoon."
"Then take a cup of this meat essence, and we will be off," said the
Doctor. "I think we have got all that we shall require for immediate
use. Water will be scarce, but I think we have a substitute. Now have
a last look round, and satisfy yourselves that you are leaving nothing
you may value specially behind."
At last we each shouldered our package, strapping it on our back like a
knapsack, and with rifle in hand we turned from the _Sirius_ and began
our march. Tears dimmed the Doctor's eyes as he looked for the last
time upon his cherished handiwork, every bolt and plate of which was
dear to him; and not one of us left the good carriage without feelings
of regret, for it seemed as though we were turning our backs on home!
Hour after hour we trudged along, now sinking knee-deep in fine sand,
then slipping and stumbling as we slowly picked our way across stony
ground, the sun beating down upon us from a clear and rainless sky.
After exerting ourselves to the very utmost, we found that we had not
advanced more than twelve miles from the _Sirius_ by mid-day; and owing
to the extreme clearness of the heated atmosphere, this distance did
not appear much more than six. We halted to rest under the shadow of a
big mass of rock which lay embedded in the sand, and here we ate our
food and each drank a cup of wine and water from his flask. Of pure
water we had only one small cask, holding a gallon, which Sandy carried
slung from his shoulder. This we reserved for any emergency, but we
hoped to find a stream or pool before nightfall.
We allowed ourselves one hour's rest, then resumed our march, and
continued struggling on till sunset. During the afternoon we crossed
a stretch of better ground, and by the time we halted for the night,
we seemed to have done at least half the distance that separated the
_Sirius_ from the mountains. We encamped in a rocky hollow. Tent or
fire we had none: we could not carry the one, and no materials for the
other were to be got in this wilderness. We ate our cold supper and
then fell asleep, with nothing but the starry sky above us, and with
the soft sand for our beds. It was a lovely night, warm and windless
and still, so that we experienced little or no discomfort, and awoke
refreshed, just as the rising sun was tipping the distant hills with
gold. Not one drop of water, not the slightest sign of moisture had
we discovered, and the night had been dry and dewless. Not a blade of
vegetation, or a trace of any living thing, could yet be seen---all was
desert and barren.
With no fire to warm or cook anything, our morning meal was not quite
so savoury as it might have been, but we were hungry, and hungry men
are rarely fastidious. Meat essence dissolved in a little water, with
biscuits and a draught of watered wine, formed our repast, and as soon
as it was done we picked up our belongings and made an early start. We
were anxious to get as much ground covered as possible before the sun
became so oppressively powerful; besides, death stared us in the face
on every side in this terrible wilderness, and delay might prove fatal
to us all.
Slowly, terribly slowly, mile after mile was passed, and the mountains
before us began to show out in more detail. They were barren and
sterile enough. Everything seemed withered and blasted, and the sun in
fierce splendour travelled across the waterless heavens, and burnt into
the bare rocks and sands, wasting his life-nourishing heat on a region
of eternal desolation. By mid-day we were so fatigued that we sank down
beside a big stone to rest our weary limbs and throbbing heads. Eat we
could not; our mouths were dry and parched, and we craved for water.
There was but a quart of the precious fluid left--a quart of lukewarm,
half-putrid water, between four thirsty men and a panting dog! Sandy
begged hard for a drop for his dog, and he moistened poor Rover's
mouth with a spoonful; but we ourselves tried to slake our awful
thirst with a few of the Doctor's lozenges. They answered admirably;
but their effect was only momentary, and by the time each little cake
was sucked away we were as thirsty as before. The sun beat down upon
us remorselessly, and to save ourselves from being scorched to death
we scraped a hole under the shadow of the stone, and there, huddled
together in the scanty shade, we lay waiting for the sun to sink lower
in the west before we tried to drag our weary feet a little farther.
For three hours we remained in this hole in the sand; then once more
we started on, moistening our mouths from our nearly empty flasks, and
munching a biscuit as we went.
Towards night the temperature became much lower, and we were able
to get along a little faster; but every mile that we went we found
our burdens becoming heavier. Yet we struggled on; nor did we seek a
camping-place until we reached the lower slopes of the mountains. Still
all was desolation; closer scrutiny only confirmed the opinions formed
by a more distant view, for the hills were as sterile and barren as the
plain we had crossed.
"Never mind, my friends," said the Doctor, "we have crossed the worst
part. Here, amid the mountains, we are sure of more shade, and shall
most probably find water, if not on these slopes, surely on the other
side."
"Well, Doctor, if we don't find water soon, it will be all over with
us," remarked Temple. "I myself don't feel equal to another day like
this has been."
"None of us know the compass of our strength, or what we can do, until
spurred on by the goads of necessity, Temple," the Doctor answered.
We selected a sheltered nook among the rocks, each smoothing the sand
into the semblance of a couch, and there we used the remainder of the
water to make our essence, and then stretching our stiff and weary
limbs, soon fell asleep.
Not one of us awoke again until the next day was far advanced. The sun
was four hours high towards the zenith ere we roused from our slumber.
The long sleep had done us good; our heads were easier; our thirst
not so intense. We drank the remainder of our wine and water, ate a
few biscuits, and then prepared for our onward march. The rocky pass
between two rugged mountains lay straight before us, and in single file
we went our way. At first the precipitous sides of the mountains nearly
met overhead, and the path was little more than a gloomy fissure; but
this soon widened out as we ascended, and we eventually found ourselves
in a broad valley, with an uninterrupted view for miles.
Our great exertions in walking over the rock-strewn ground soon began
to create acute thirst. We had no fluid now of any kind, and only a
dozen lozenges were left. These we shared, three to each; and very soon
the cravings for moisture triumphed and they were gone. We had nothing
whatever now to assuage thirst! We must find water, or die!
Times without number we consulted together as to the propriety of
throwing away our arms and ammunition; but still we continued to carry
them, first in one hand, then in the other. Then one or the other of
us said he could go no farther, and begged the rest to leave him to die
in peace. But we cheered and rallied him whose hopes of deliverance
were ebbing, as best we could, and still toiled on. Upwards! onwards!
filled with all the torments of a raging thirst, we toiled, our feet
heavy as though shod with lead; but still no sign of life--the same
desolate wilderness, the same hot sun, the same bare rocks and stony
way, continuing on and on apparently to eternity! All that livelong
day we struggled on beneath a scorching sun. Towards evening we were
startled by a shout from Sandy:
"The water! Doctor, the shining water! See, there! There! below ye on
the left."
We looked where Sandy pointed, and there--could we trust our eyes? or
was it but the fancy of a scorched and sun-disordered brain?--there,
about a mile away, was a beautiful pool below the hillside, its
shimmering waters glistening like silver in the setting sun! We
literally danced for joy, and, nerved to new strength by the sight of
the welcome waters, we ran helter-skelter over the rocks and stones
towards them. When two hundred yards away we threw down our rifles, and
slipped out of the straps that held our burdens, and each raced as for
his life to be the first to revel in the feast!
Graham, being by far the strongest, reached the brink first; but
instead of kneeling down to quench his thirst, he threw himself to the
ground with a piteous groan of despair, saying:
"We are lost! my comrades; we are lost! Unless we can cool our burning
tongues with mercury!"
Alas! Graham's words were only too true, for the lake, which must have
covered some hundreds of acres of ground, was one thick, fluid mass of
quicksilver! We sat down by this costly, yet horrid pool, too overcome
with bitter disappointment, and with the exertion of hastening thither,
to speak; and not one of us stirred until the sun had set and night
approached.
"Doctor," exclaimed Temple at last, in a weak and weary voice, "we can
go no further; we had best remain here and die."
But Doctor Hermann made no answer. He was gazing into the lake at our
feet in a half-conscious manner, muttering incoherently to himself
about "majestic phenomenon" and "wonderful sight," and then he sank
back unconscious! The scene now became intensely horrible. Temple sat
with pale hollow cheeks, and sunken eyes, his chin resting upon his
knees; Sandy was struggling with Graham to reach the lake, swearing
he would have water if he killed him in reaching it. But poor Sandy
was weak as a child, and Graham in very kindness hurled him to the
ground, where he lay like one dead. The only man with any control over
himself, or with any strength, was Graham, and he stood amongst his
fallen companions, gaunt and haggard, with tears of sympathy for them
trickling down his wan, wasted cheeks, and white face turned upwards to
the sky.
"Oh, God!" he cried, in words that rattled hoarsely in his parched and
burning throat--"Oh, God! give us water, or be merciful and let us
quickly die. Oh, Echri!" he panted, "servant of God, if your power
admits, hear the voice of him who wears your sacred ring, crying for
help in the wilderness, and send him succour. Help!--me--and them--oh,
God!--Echri--ring--Volinè;" but the last words became but rattling,
meaningless sounds, and he too was overcome with faintness and thirst,
and sank down among the rest to die!
A few minutes later, Temple alone remained conscious; but he felt
too weak to move, and he sat there in his agony, watching the bright
merciless stars come forth one by one, and the distant yellow ball of
Earth rise steadily above the mountains, until a drowsiness overcame
him, and he mercifully fell into a troubled sleep.
How long he slumbered we shall never know, but he woke trembling with
cold, roused from his sleep by the chilly blast that was howling and
shrieking round him. The heavens were of an inky blackness, save at
irregular intervals, when the blue lightning lit up the banks of cloud
for a fleeting moment. The cold wind, evidently charged with moisture,
had brought new life upon its wings for Temple, and he felt refreshed.
He was still too weak to move, and sat shivering in astonished silence,
viewing the progress of the storm. Peal after peal of thunder shook
the ground beneath him: flash after flash of lightning glanced along
the lake of mercury, and illumined its smooth waveless surface like
a mirror. Then a few big heavy drops of rain spattered on the rocks,
one of them striking him full on his forehead. A minute or so later,
preceded by a warning roar, the tempest broke in all its fury. The rain
beat down on the parched ground, wetting him and his companions to the
skin, collecting into pools, and flowing in tiny rills and torrents
between the rocks, and forming channels across the firmer beds of sand.
The water revived Temple like doses of some magic elixir, and he
crawled to the nearest pool and drank his fill of this sweet,
refreshing nectar from the sky! Then amidst the tempest strife, and
by the lightning's light, he dragged his cold and aching body towards
his fallen comrades, his cap full of water, and beginning with Graham,
who was lying face downwards, he gently parted his dry cracked lips
asunder, and poured a few drops between his teeth. The effect was
instantaneous, and he showed signs of returning consciousness; by
bathing his forehead, he was soon able to speak.
"Thank you, Mr. Temple," he faintly murmured, "I shall be better now.
Whoever expected rain in such a region! But leave me, and lend the poor
Doctor some assistance. I am afraid he is in a bad way."
The rain had served Sandy, too, in a remarkable way, and we heard
him groping in the darkness, and drinking from his hands, which he
filled from one of the numerous pools around us. In half an hour all
of us could stand except the Doctor; he was alive, but unable to move
or speak. Then the storm ceased, the sky cleared, and a yellow light
over the east heralded the sun. Daylight revealed the heaviness of the
storm. We were surrounded by pools of sparkling rain-water, resting in
the crevices of the rocks, and the mountain sides were furrowed with
crystal streams, whose volume was fast becoming less as the sands
absorbed them. Sandy, by Graham's direction, crawled off to search
for the water-cask and the packs we had thrown away the previous
evening. The cask we broke up, and with the wood we made a small fire.
By careful management we contrived to heat sufficient water to make
half-a-gallon of the meat essence, and a cup of this soon put new life
into the Doctor. Poor Rover was almost dead, and lay helpless where he
had crouched down by Sandy's side, hours before, and it took all his
master's care to bring him round.
By the time we had drunk our soup the sun had risen, and his generous
rays--the rays we were but so ready to curse yesterday--soon dried our
dripping garments, and warmed our bodies back to more vigorous life. We
also dried and oiled our firearms, and packed our knapsacks afresh. But
we were all too weak and exhausted to march, and we decided to stay and
rest ourselves for a few hours. We had food and water in abundance, and
if we could only find some fuel we should want little more. We left the
side of the lake, and took up our quarters under the lee of a huge mass
of rock, and here we stayed until noon.
Although feeling weak, we were then determined to try and push on once
more. Could we only get out of these desert regions, and enter a more
fertile country, all might yet be well. Then we could rest to our
heart's desire, and recruit our wasted strength. Feebly we started,
tottering under our loads, but thankful to God that our lives had been
spared once more, and that the pangs of a burning thirst were gone.
Truly all things seemed working in our favour; for had the rain fallen
twelve hours later, not one of us would have survived, and our bones
would now be bleaching in the sun on that desert waste!
The ground became more even as we crawled along, and by creeping
steadily forward we covered nearly twenty miles before sunset. Then
the country began to improve, and the distant hills appeared covered
with forests to the snow-line. Grasses and weeds peeped here and there
among the stones, and a mile further on we saw a few stunted bushes,
something like a clump of gorse, on the hillside. Eagerly, and with
new-born strength, we now pushed on, striving every nerve to reach some
sort of cover before darkness made us halt for the night.
We were not disappointed, and before the short twilight had faded, we
found ourselves on the borders of a dense scrub, studded here and there
with small trees. Here we camped close to a pool of rain-water, and
made a glorious fire of dead branches, with which we cooked our evening
meal. Then, stretching our weary limbs on beds of leaves, we rested for
the night in comparative comfort and luxury.
We were up early. Thanks to splendid constitutions, the effects of
our sufferings in the desert were passing rapidly away, although our
pale and haggard faces continued to reflect our recent hardships for
many days. The easiest route still led upwards, and after two hours'
walking through a region rich with mineral wealth, we came to the
borders of a forest on the crest of the hill, and looked down upon a
wide and fruitful plain, covered with woods and fields and clusters
of trees. Three miles below us was a large city--evidently a great
manufacturing centre, for there were furnaces and tall chimney-shafts
belching smoke and flame, and we could even hear the distant hum and
roar of busy industry! The change from desert, barren wilderness, to
fat and fruitful land was startlingly sudden, and for many moments
we stood on the crest of the hill, looking at the scene below us in
silent amazement! Whilst we were discussing the appearance of this
smoke-beleaguered city, and wondering to ourselves what industries
its people were engaged in, we were alarmed by cries of terror from a
thicket a little way to the left, and almost directly afterwards a man
rushed out towards us, pursued by a strange-looking beast, something
like a wild boar, only with long-twisted horns growing from its
forehead.
Comprehending in a moment the peril the poor fellow was in, Graham
without more ado pointed his rifle at the beast and fired, cleverly
bringing it down dead. The hunter seemed paralysed with terror at
the report of the rifle and its effects, and stood looking at us in
amazement.
"We are friends," said the Doctor, with hands held out towards him.
"Come without fear and give us greeting. You are safe."
Hearing his own language spoken, the man advanced, saying as he did so:
"Strangers, my heart is full of gratitude for the service ye have
rendered. Command me to your bidding, and I obey. I am from Pamax,
yonder. My name is Kios--and yours?"
"We are strangers to your country and your world; we come from the star
which you call Ramos, which we call Earth; and we come as brothers, in
friendship and in peace," answered the Doctor in an assuring voice.
"Are ye, then, the men of Ramos, with whose evil fame all Gathma rings?
The men of Ramos who escaped death at the crag Remagaloth? Are ye the
slayers of Osa? If so be ye are, I know your story as well as any man
in Edos, for we listened to each word of your trial and sentence here
in Pamax."
"The same are we; but what know you of our captivity there? Have
you any tidings from Edos?" queried Graham, who ill-concealed his
impatience to hear any possible news of his beloved.
"Men of Ramos, I can tell ye much; but ye look faint and weary. Follow
me, and rest your tired limbs, and I will tell ye all I know."
So saying, the good-natured hunter (for such we judged him to be)
turned and beckoned us to follow him, throwing the huge dead beast
across his mighty shoulders as he went. He led the way to a camp far in
the thicket, where a wood fire was roasting some animal before a cosy
tent.
"Enter, men of Ramos; enter, and share a poor man's hospitality."
Gladly we did so, and after taking off our knapsacks, we seated
ourselves on some soft skins and listened to his story.
"First, I would ask ye how ye came hither. Edos is many days' journey
hence for they who needs must travel by stealth or on foot; Remagaloth
is yet further. I heard that ye escaped into the sky in a carriage of
cunning workmanship. Came ye hence in that?"
"You speak quite truly, Kios," said Graham; "we escaped in the carriage
that bore us from Earth to Gathma; but it conveyed us to a desert
region which for days we had to cross on foot, nearly perishing of heat
and thirst on the way."
"The barren ground of which ye speak is the desert Chados, and I marvel
much to learn that ye have crossed it and yet do live! Ye are now in
the woods called Theloth, the sole right and privilege of hunting
therein being conferred on me by the King. I supply the palace at Edos
with wild meat and herbs, and I came from the city but yesterday."
"Then the distance cannot, surely, be so far," exclaimed Temple.
"We travel quickly in Gathma," Kios answered, "and I know full well ye
could not have come by the same means as I----"
"So you left Edos so recently? Then do you know aught of----?" said
Graham in eagerness.
But Kios, with upraised finger, said, "Interrupt me not. I will tell ye
all I know, but I must speak in mine own way.
"The news of your miraculous escape from death," continued Kios, "is
on every tongue, both in Edos and throughout civilised Gathma; and,
moreover, it is said that Echri with his wondrous arts did save ye,
for one of ye did wear a sacred ring of his upon your finger. Ah! that
is the same--all men of Edos know it well," said Kios, as Graham held
out his hand on which the curious talisman glittered. "The King and
his ministers are wrath enough; but there are those who say his royal
anger is not so bitter as it seemeth, and that Volinè, his daughter,
hath softened his heart toward ye. Yet, in this, I only repeat the
gossip of the streets of Edos, and know not its truth. A prince, by
name Perodii, fans the King's smouldering wrath by taunts, and what,
methinks, are probably falsehoods concerning ye. No man in all Edos,
save the King, is so powerful as he, nor is there a bigger blackguard
within its walls. Be warned against him, for his soul is full of evil,
and he seeks your ruin. At his instigation, troops are searching the
country through to find ye; and if ye be taken captive once more, no
mercy will be shown ye if Perodii can prevent it. I hate this Perodii
with a deadly bitter hatred, for he ruined my only child! Curse him!"
"Know you aught of Volinè, the King's daughter; or of Kaosp, a worthy
commander of the troops in Edos?" asked Graham anxiously.
"Of Volinè I have no tidings; of Kaosp I know nought but ill. He lies
in prison, thrown there, some say, for treason to the King; yet others
have it that Perodii's lying tongue hath forged his fetters."
"We are exceedingly grateful for the news you have told us," said the
Doctor warmly, "and your tidings will prove a great service to us.
But we would ask you for further information about the city below
us--Pamax, I think you call it. Is it safe for us to venture therein?"
"No; ye go there at peril of your liberty and lives. Know ye not that
Pamax doth great trade with Edos; the King's troops are even there now
in quest of ye. Pamax is a city of rough working-people, where dirt and
squalour are as plentiful as gold and splendour in Edos. The people
that dwell in Pamax are cunning workers in metals; the hills around us
are honeycombed with their mines. Electric ways radiate from this city
in all directions, to convey its merchandise to every part of Gathma.
It is a wondrous city, and its men are clever artificers; yet they are
low of mind, and would, in their stupid ignorance, hand ye over to the
guards at once. But four days' journey hence is the bright and noble
city of Helmath, full of scientific and highly-cultured people, a great
centre of knowledge, and a lofty seat of learning. Thither bend your
steps; for those therein may welcome ye and plead your cause with the
King. Tarry with me here for a day or so, as my guests. Revive your
wasted strength, and rest your wearied bodies with me. I promise ye
safety in the woods of Theloth, and will send ye on your way to Helmath
with light and hopeful hearts."
We consulted together for a moment, and then unanimously decided to
accept the kind invitation Kios had so generously offered us. We needed
rest, we sought safety; and here we could obtain both, for a few days
at least. We had already unbounded confidence in this open-hearted
hunter, and felt that our safety was doubly assured through his bitter
hatred of Perodii.