The Ogrum
"Exploring parties ashore," Captain Higgins ordered.
"With your permission," Craig said, "I should like to be a member of one
of those parties."
"Certainly," the captain said. "I'll do even better than that--I'll put
you in charge of one of them."
"Thank you, sir," Craig said. In accordance with the best naval
tradition, he kept his voice emotionless, but his heart leaped at the
thought. He was going to lead a squad of blue-jackets ashore!
He was assembling his group when Michaelson, wildly excited, came
dashing up. "I understand you are taking a squad ashore!" the scientist
excitedly panted.
"That's right," Craig answered.
"I want to go along."
"You want to go along?" Craig glanced toward the nearby shore. Above
the swamps bordering the river one of the lizard-birds was flapping. It
was carrying in its taloned claws something that looked like a small
monkey. Now and then coughing grunts came from the swamp, evidence of
the beasts lurking there. "You want to go into _that_?" Craig
questioned.
"Certainly," the scientist vigorously answered. "This is the opportunity
of a life-time. We shall have a perfect chance to observe the flora and
fauna of this time. We shall see them alive. No other scientist ever had
a chance like this."
"You mean you will have a fine chance to be gobbled up," Craig said
grimly, nodding toward the shore. "That's jungle country."
"You are taking these men into it," Michaelson protested.
"They volunteered," Craig answered.
"So do I volunteer," Michaelson said.
"All right," Craig said, grinning in spite of himself at the impetuous
way this scientist flung himself into what at best could only be a nasty
situation. "Get yourself a gun and come along--" He broke off to stare
at the second person who was approaching him.
It was Margy Sharp. She went directly to the point. "How about me
volunteering too?" she asked.
"Well, I'm damned," Craig said.
"Does that mean I can go?"
"It does not!" Craig said emphatically. "It means I'm astonished that
you should have taken such sudden leave of your senses."
"Why can't I go?" she challenged.
"Because you're a girl," he answered. "And because you would be in the
way. No sale, Margy. Not today and not any other day if I have anything
to say about it. You stay here where you belong."
"You damned men have _all_ the fun," the girl said bitterly, turning on
her heel. Craig watched her walk directly to Captain Higgins and make
the same request and he observed the astonishment of that naval officer.
But in spite of his astonishment, the captain was quite able to say
"No."
The last he saw of her, she was leaning over the rail watching the small
boat put out for shore. He waved at her. She thumbed her nose in reply.
Looking back as they neared the shore, Craig saw she was still standing
at the rail. He also heard the boom of the ship's catapult and saw a
plane launched into the air. Captain Higgins was sending out a plane to
scout the surrounding area. Craig knew what the captain was worried
about--the place from which those cursed silent airplanes came.
High in the sky, he could see one of the silent floaters keeping its
vigil over the Idaho.
"We'll cross the swamp and reach the hills," Craig directed.
* * * * *
Shots roared in the distance as they forced the boat through the pools
of stagnant water. Apparently the shots came from the other exploring
parties shooting flying lizards or other creatures. Once a flying lizard
swooped over their boat but it changed its mind and went on to attack
something else. And, as they forced the boat through a clump of reeds
and into a clear channel, something monstrous snorted near them. Loud
crashes sounded in the swamp tangle.
"It looks as big as an elephant," Craig shouted. "Get your guns ready."
He could see the movement of the reeds as the beast crashed toward them.
Small trees were shaking, marking its passage, then it thrust its head
out of the tangle not fifty feet from them.
"It's a dinosaur!" Michaelson shouted. The scientist was wildly
excited. "It's a live dinosaur."
"It's going to be a dead one if it comes any closer," Craig said grimly.
"No, don't shoot," the scientist said. "It's one of the herbivorous
dinosaurs, a vegetation eater. It won't harm us."
The sailors in the boat were nervously fingering their tommy-guns and
staring at the mountain of flesh that was half-hidden by the jungle
growth. It, in turn, stared at them. It was bigger than any elephant
that ever walked the earth, and Craig, as he estimated the size of the
beast, was wondering whether the tommy-guns would stop it if it chose to
attack.
"If we have to shoot, aim at the head," he whispered.
In comparison to the rest of the body, the head was small. It would
present a difficult target but a hit in the head might stop the beast
whereas a hit in the huge body would pass unnoticed. The dinosaur stared
at them. Seconds ticked into minutes. It moved its head in a circle,
sniffing the air. Michaelson wanted to get out of the boat and swim to
shore so he could examine it closely.
"You stay in this boat," Craig said vigorously. "You will probably get a
chance to examine all the dinosaurs you want."
Muttering to himself, the scientist subsided.
Slowly, as though it had seen all it wanted to, the dinosaur turned and
went back into the swamp. The shaking of the shrubs marked the direction
it had taken. Craig breathed a sigh of relief.
"I told you it wasn't dangerous," Michaelson said bitterly. "You should
have let me examine it."
"Never mind," Craig said soothingly. "After we get ourselves settled
here, you can have a dinosaur for a pet. Push on, men," he said to the
crew. "I want to climb one of those hills and take a look around."
* * * * *
Reaching the spot where the boat could pass no farther, they left two
men to guard it and pushed ahead on foot. The swamp gave way to rising,
rocky ground covered with a thin growth of huge trees. There was a
whistle in the air. Looking quickly up, Craig saw a flying lizard swoop
through an opening in the trees and dive head-long at something hidden
in the rocks ahead.
A scream sounded as the dragon bird dived to the attack.
There was a human element in the scream.
"That bird is after somebody!" Craig shouted. "Come on."
If he had not known it was impossible, he would have been certain that
the scream he had heard had come from the throat of a woman. But there
were no women here in this mad world. Dashing forward he climbed to the
top of a huge rock--and looked down at an incredible scene.
He was on the lip of a rocky ravine. Across on the other side of the
ravine was a hole in the rock, a shallow cave. Crouching in the back of
the shallow depression was a woman. She was shielding something with her
body.
In front of the shallow cave was--a man. He was not the type of man to
grace the pages of a fashion magazine, but in spite of bulging muscles
and heavy, uncombed hair, there was a lithe alertness about him that was
appealing.
There was something else that was more appealing.
The way he was facing the dragon.
The lizard bird, all claws and fanged mouth and hooked wings, was trying
to knock the man down. He was fighting it desperately. His only weapon
was a heavy club. He struck heavily with the club, leaped back out of
danger. The bird lunged at him. He hit it across the head and knocked it
backward. The bird was on the ground. It lunged again, screaming
shrilly. The man struck at it, dodged to one side, hit it again. The
bird came back to the attack.
No matter how valiant the defense, there could be only one ending. The
dragon was too big, too fierce, too impervious to pain, too hard to
kill, to be stopped by a man with a club. It lunged again. The man
struck at it, slipped, fell. Hissing with triumph, leathery wings
flapping, the lizard bird leaped at him.
[Illustration: The dragon was too big, too hard, to be killed by a man
with a club ... there could be but one ending]
_Rat-tat-tat-tat_--Craig let go with his tommy-gun.
_Rat-tat-tat-tat_--The other men joined in, pouring a murderous fury of
cross-fire down into the ravine. The bird was almost as big as a horse.
It was a fierce fighter. It would relinquish a meal when it was dead and
not before. One slug would not stop it. Dozens of slugs poured into it,
smashed it to a bloody pulp. Even as it died it still tried to reach the
man it had attacked.
As suddenly as it had started, the shooting stopped. Craig took the
smoking gun from his shoulder. The dragon gave one last convulsive heave
and lay still.
The man had scrambled to his feet. The sudden, blasting fury of the
gun-fire must have shocked him out of his wits. He had been facing
death, bravely; and suddenly death had struck down the creature that was
attacking him. He stood without moving. In the cave behind him the woman
left off her whimpering.
The man was darting glances out of the corners of his eyes, seeking the
source from which his sudden deliverance had come. Slowly he turned his
head. He saw the sailors on the lip of the ravine across from him.
A look of almost stupefying fear crossed his face. He had faced the
dragon with no show of cowardice. Now, seeing his benefactors for the
first time, he looked terrified. In the cave behind him the woman had
also located the humans. Without moving a muscle, she crouched against
the rock wall. Craig had seen wild animals, frightened by the sudden
appearance of a beast of prey, act like this. A rabbit, aware of the
swoop of a hawk, would be too terrified to move. A lamb, knowing the
wolf was near, would crouch trembling waiting for the final snarling
leap.
"He's scared of us," Craig whispered. "Don't make any sudden moves."
The man looked up at them.
"Ogrum!" he whispered. "Ogrum--"
* * * * *
Very slowly he laid the club on the ground beside him. Then he stretched
himself face downward beside it in a gesture of obeisance older than
human history. Subject races welcomed their conqueror in a manner such
as this, slaves knelt before their master in this manner--in the days
before men ceased being slaves.
"He must think we're gods," Craig whispered. It was a logical
explanation of the man's actions yet it did not completely satisfy him.
"He thinks we are something else," Michaelson said. "He is acting like a
person who recognizes a strong enemy. He is mistaking us for somebody
else. Come on. I'm going down there."
The scientist was already scrambling down the side of the ravine. Craig
followed him. He recognized the correctness of Michaelson's deductions.
The man had whispered "Ogrum." Then he had knelt. There could only be
one explanation: he thought they were somebody else. The thought raised
a question in Craig's mind: What could inspire such terrifying fear in
this man? What horror walked through these jungles that a man would fear
more than he feared a dragon?
Craig looked up at his squad on the bank of the ravine. "Be on your
guard," he said.
"Aye, aye, sir," the answer came floating down. It was an order the
sailors would not be likely to need. They would be on the alert.
Michaelson was so eager to reach the man that he dashed ahead. When
Craig reached him, he was bending over the man. The scientist was wildly
excited. "He is human," Michaelson was babbling. "Look for yourself if
you don't believe me. See, he has all the characteristics of true man."
The scientist was acting as if he expected Craig to argue the point. The
big man didn't. "Of course he's human," he said. "What's so strange
about that?"
"You do not understand," Michaelson explained. "He is the dawn man. He
belongs to the first race of true humans ever to appear on earth. We
have found a dawn man. That is of great scientific importance. See!" The
scientist pointed to the club. "He has begun to use tools but he has not
yet learned to chip flint. He is pre-stone age, definitely pre-stone
age, but he is also definitely human, with the capacity to learn, as is
shown by his use of the club. He has already made one of the first great
inventions, a club. He has not yet made the second invention, fire, or
the third great discovery, how to shape stone. I cannot begin to tell
you how important this is."
The scientist was beside himself with excitement. Craig grinned. Science
had its thrills as well as adventure. Michaelson was apparently
experiencing one of science's great thrills--discovery.
The scientist promptly began to try to communicate with the man. But
first he had to win the man's confidence. This he did by talking softly
and gently. The man sat up to stare in dazed wonder at the scientist.
Back in the shallow cave the woman crouched without moving. Craig saw
what she was protecting, a child. This was a family they had saved from
the dragon. From fearful eyes the woman watched her lord and master talk
to the strangers.
* * * * *
"His name is Guru," Michaelson said, indicating the dawn man. "I am able
to understand a little of what he says. His language is as yet
undifferentiated into complex grammatical forms, hence I can follow his
meaning without too much difficulty. He says he has lived here all his
life and that many more of his people live near here. He says they live
in families. Do you know what that means?" the scientist excitedly
challenged Craig.
Craig, unable to get Michaelson to leave the dawn man, had left two men
to guard the scientist and had taken the others on a wide scouting trip.
He had just returned.
"No, I don't know what that means," he answered.
"It means that Guru and his people have not yet reached the tribal stage
in their existence!" the scientist triumphantly pronounced. "They are
still in the family stage but they have not yet learned to live together
in tribes."
Michaelson sounded as if he thought this discovery was of the utmost
importance. Scientifically, it probably was important. But Craig had
other things on his mind.
"Ask him who he thought we were when he first saw us," he said. "Ask him
why he was so badly scared of us. Ask him who the Ogrum are."
Craig was talking to the scientist but he was watching Guru. When he
mentioned the Ogrum, the dawn man flinched. Fright appeared in his eyes.
Michaelson spoke to him, consulting a notebook in which he had already
jotted down words that he had learned, and listened carefully to his
reply. The scientist turned to Craig.
"Guru says the Ogrum are very bad," he said. "He says they are much
fiercer than the _death-that-flies_, by which he means the bird that was
attacking him when we came up. He says the Ogrum fly too, and that they
are like us, only different. He says he thought we were Ogrum when he
first saw us. He says the Ogrum hunt down his people, and capture them,
and take them to their city, and there feed them to the monster that
eats forever."
"The monster that eats forever!" Craig whistled thoughtfully. "What the
devil is that?"
Michaelson repeated Craig's question to Guru. The answer came haltingly,
slowly. The scientist turned to Craig. "I am not at all certain what he
means. Another definition would be the bright beast that is always
hungry. But I do not know what this beast is, and Guru seems unable to
tell me. He has never seen it, he says, only heard about it. He is much
afraid of the Ogrum."
"I don't blame him," Craig said. "But what are they?"
Guru seemed unable to grasp the meaning of this question. He showed a
strange disinclination to discuss the subject. He was so much afraid of
the Ogrum that he did not even want to talk about them. And yet--this
fact put a worried frown on Craig's forehead--Guru was no coward. They
had seen him fearlessly face the flying dragon, the death-that-flew.
What was there about the Ogrum that made Guru so terribly afraid of
them?
Guru seemed nervous and uneasy. He looked all around the ravine as
though he sensed the presence of hidden danger. Suddenly he looked up. A
single word fell from his lips.
"_Ogrum!_" he whispered. "_Ogrum!_"
Craig looked skyward. A single wedge-shaped plane was diving on silent
wings through the air. His first thought was that it was diving at them.
Then he saw it was passing above them, aiming at some other target. A
second plane was following the first, a third was following the second.
There was a whole line of them, diving silently on some secret target.
* * * * *
The second he saw the planes, all question of the identity of the Ogrum
passed from Craig's mind. It was the Ogrum who flew those silent ships,
it was the Ogrum who had attacked the Idaho, who had sprayed the strange
acid on the sea that had damaged the ship. It was the Ogrum who now were
passing overhead intent on some other attack.
"Out of sight, everybody!" Craig shouted. The sailors slipped hastily to
cover. Craig joined them. Guru had already leaped back into the mouth of
his cave.
"What are those devils after this time?" Michaelson asked.
A second later, they had the answer.
Rolling across the swamps came the sound of a thunderous anti-aircraft
barrage from the Idaho.
The Ogrum were moving in to attack the warship, to deliver the last
smashing blow against the stranded battle wagon! Like vultures circling
a dying animal, they wheeled over the Idaho.
"Come on!" Craig said. "I don't know what we can do to help but we will
go and see."
As he hurried out of the ravine he saw Guru hastily helping his mate
carry the child to a higher, safer cave. Guru was hiding. The dawn man
might face a flying dragon, but the Ogrum were too much for him. Craig
did not blame him for hiding. He led his group hastily toward his boat.
Before they reached the place where they had left the small boat a crash
sounded behind them. Turning, they jerked up their guns. In this jungle
wilderness, anything might be attacking them. When they saw what was
following them, they dropped the muzzles of the weapons.
It was Guru. Waving his club, he had come to join them. He was
chattering excitedly.
"He says he has put his wife and little one where they will be safe,"
Michaelson translated. "He wants to know if we are going to fight the
Ogrum."
"Tell him yes," Craig answered.
"Then he says he wants to go along," the scientist interpreted.
For an instant Craig stared at the dawn man. Guru was scared. His fright
was obvious. Even thinking about the Ogrum scared him. But if his
new-found friends were going to fight the devils of the jungle, he was
going with them!
"There," said Craig appreciatively, "beats a fighting heart. Come on,
dawn man, you've got what it takes."
With Guru to lead them and point out passages through the swamp, they
made speedy time in the boat. Meanwhile, clearly audible but out of
sight, the sky was filled with the thunder of guns.
"The ack-ack will knock those planes out of the sky," one of the sailors
said.
"I wish I thought so," Craig answered.
"What do you mean?" Michaelson questioned.
"The Ogrum must know we have anti-aircraft defenses," the big man said
uneasily. "We shot one of their planes down when they attacked our
scouting flier. They know we can and will fight. If they attack us under
those circumstances, it means one of two things--either they're crazy or
they think they can take us in spite of our ack-ack. For all I know,
they may be crazy, but I'm betting they think they can take us. Sh--"
Craig listened.
The anti-aircraft barrage was thinning out. The guns were not firing as
furiously as they had at first. Uneasiness showing on their faces, the
sailors listened.
"Something's going wrong," one of them muttered.
"Get moving!" Craig barked. He knew too well that something was going
wrong. And, as they shoved the boat through the swamp, the guns from the
ship began to sound slower and slower until at last only occasional
blasts showed they were still being manned.
Then the gun-fire ceased altogether.
"Perhaps we have driven them off," Michaelson suggested.
"Perhaps we haven't!" Craig answered bitterly. "Look."
They were nearing the river. Through open spaces, the harbor was
visible. They caught a glimpse of the Idaho.
The planes of the Ogrum were still circling above it.
The Ogrum had not been driven off.
They had won a victory!