The City of the Ogrum
Hidden on the shore, Craig and his men watched the looting of the Idaho.
The planes of the Ogrum were still wheeling overhead. Dozens had
alighted on the water around the doomed ship and the Ogrum were climbing
aboard. Craig saw how the ship had been taken. Gas! Trails of thin white
mist still floated around the vessel. The diving planes had sprayed some
kind of gas on the ship. It was obviously some kind of vapor different
from any known in the far-off Twentieth Century but equally obviously it
was devilishly effective. Guru verified the fact that gas had been used.
"White cloud makes sleep, Guru says," Michaelson supplied.
Before the sleep had come, the guns of the Idaho had taken a toll of the
attackers, as wrecked planes on the water testified. Craig saw the pilot
of one of the planes, obviously wounded, signal to the other Ogrum to
help him. His flier was sinking and he was unable to swim. His comrades
completely ignored his cries for help. The plane sank and the Ogrum
pilot, after vainly attempting to swim, went under too. There were
planes near that could have rescued him and certainly some of the Ogrum
saw him, but they made no attempt to help.
"Devils!" Craig said huskily. "They're devils. They don't even take care
of their own wounded comrades."
"If they treat their own men that way, what will they do to their
captives?" Michaelson questioned.
Craig could only stare at him in horror.
"Ask him," he jerked a finger toward Guru, "if the gas _kills_ the
people who inhale it."
The scientist put the question. Guru, squatting on his haunches,
answered slowly.
"He says they are only asleep, that after awhile they will wake up,"
Michaelson said.
"God!" Craig groaned. "I was afraid of that. Ask him what the Ogrum will
do with their captives?"
Again the scientist questioned the dawn man.
"He says the Ogrum will take them to their city and feed them to the
white beast that is always hungry."
Craig said nothing. He turned and looked at the Idaho. The skin was
drawn tight across his face and knots were bulging at the corners of his
jaws. He could see the Ogrum dancing on the decks. They looked something
like humans except that their bodies were distorted, out of proportion.
One was tall and very skinny. Another was short and fat. A third had one
long arm and one short arm. Another had a long body and two very short
legs. Just looking at them, he hated them.
"Damn you," he whispered. "Damn you--"
Something touched his arm. He turned and saw that Guru had risen to his
feet. The dawn man, a look of sympathy on his face, was awkwardly trying
to pat him on the shoulder.
"Guru is trying to tell you that he is sorry," Michaelson said.
"Thanks," Craig said chokingly. "We--we're not licked yet."
In his heart, he knew that he was whistling to keep up his own courage
when he said they weren't licked. If the Ogrum could conquer the Idaho,
what could a handful of sailors do against them? True, there were
several exploring parties ashore, but all of them did not total fifty
men.
What chance had fifty men against the might of the Ogrum? Fifty men
armed with sub-machine guns when there had been more than a thousand men
on the Idaho, armed with anti-aircraft cannons!
* * * * *
From the shore, Craig and his companions watched the Ogrum loot the
ship. Oddly, they were not interested in any of the fittings of the
mighty vessel. The loot that interested them was--men! They brought in
large, cargo carrying planes, powered by the same weirdly silent motors,
moored them in the water beside the ship, then one by one carried the
sleep-stricken members of the crew to the side and dumped them into the
cargo planes. Craig thought he saw them drop Margy Sharp into one of the
planes. He sat silently cursing, fists clenched. Several times the Ogrum
missing connections in loading the cargo planes, with the result that
the unconscious human fell into the sea. The Ogrum made no attempt to
rescue the fallen men but let them float away in the current flowing
from the river. Triangular fins tore through the water toward these
helpless floaters.
"What the Ogrum miss, the sharks get!" Craig said fiercely. Blood was
flowing down his chin from his bitten lips. The sailors with him were
white-faced and grimly silent. Michaelson, after watching the scene for
a few minutes, turned abruptly and walked a few feet along the shore.
They could hear him being sick.
One by one the loaded cargo planes took off, carrying their loads of
helpless human freight. The fighter planes buzzed after them. The Idaho
was left deserted. Either the Ogrum had not known there were men ashore
or were not at present interested in them.
The sun was low in the west before Craig dared to venture back to the
Idaho. The other exploring parties, who had been watching from hidden
spots along the shore, joined him. Silently the little boats moved
toward the bulk of the deserted battle wagon.
* * * * *
The gas had long since disappeared from the ship. By sun-down, Craig
knew the whole story.
About two hundred men, caught in the lower parts of the ship by the
attack and protected from the full effects of the gas by doors, were
reviving. Most of them were too deathly sick to be of any immediate use.
Mrs. Miller and her baby had been found hidden in the hospital bay, safe
but sick.
Captain Higgins had not been found.
Margy Sharp had not been found.
One man had been dragged, trembling, from the lowest hold where he had
taken refuge--Voronoff.
On the main deck, Craig held a conference with Michaelson and Guru. The
answers to the questions he asked left him with a grim look on his face.
He called the sailors together.
"I have been talking to Guru," he said. "Guru tells me that the city of
the Ogrum is not far from here. He says we can reach it tonight, if we
go by land, and if we use the big logs that float--by which he means our
power boats--we can reach it by midnight."
He paused and looked expectantly at the sailors. A little stir ran
through them. They instantly grasped what he was driving at.
"Moreover," he continued, "Guru tells me that the city is usually
unguarded, that the Ogrum do not bother to post sentries."
Craig watched the men closely. There was hard, bitter resentment on
their faces. They had seen their comrades carted away like so many
sticks of wood to some unguessed fate. All they wanted was a chance to
rescue their friends, or failing in that, to avenge them.
Craig wasted few words. "I am going to the city of the Ogrum," he said.
"All of you who want to go with me, step forward."
The fierce shout that answered him told him all he wanted to know. The
blue-jackets were with him. Only one man failed to step forward. It was
Voronoff. Craig eyed him.
"What about you, Voronoff?" he said.
"Don't be a damned fool!" Voronoff spat out the words. "We don't have a
chance."
"No?"
"No! The Ogrum have planes and gas and everything else. If we jump them,
they'll mow us down."
"What would you recommend that we do?" Craig asked. His voice was soft
and there was a worried expression on his face. He looked like a man who
is faced with a tough problem and is weighing all the possibilities
before deciding what to do.
"There is only one thing to do," Voronoff snapped. "Get to hell away
from here as fast as we can. Hide in the jungle. Maybe the Ogrum don't
know there are any of us left alive. If we jump them, they'll know we're
alive and they'll clean us out."
"Hmmm," Craig said thoughtfully. "You've probably got something there.
But what about the men the Ogrum have captured?"
Voronoff shrugged indifferently. "They're done for," he said. "We can't
help what happens to them."
* * * * *
A low growl came from the mass of sailors as Voronoff spoke.
"I suppose we really can't help what happens to them," Craig said. "But
I, for one am going to try to help it. We need every able-bodied man we
have. That includes you, Voronoff. Are you going with us or aren't you?"
Craig's voice was still soft and pleasant. Voronoff completely
misinterpreted it.
"Include me out!" he snapped. "I'm not going."
"No?"
"No! You can't make me volunteer if I don't want to."
"But we need you, Voronoff," Craig pleaded. "We need all the strength we
can muster."
"You can go to hell!" Voronoff said sullenly.
"You won't go?"
"I won't go!"
Craig glanced over the side of the ship. Dusk had already fallen but
there was still enough light for him to see the triangular fins cutting
the surface. He nodded toward the water. "Either you go with us,
Voronoff," he said evenly, "Or I, personally, am going to throw you
overboard."
Voronoff looked like a man who did not believe his own ears. A low growl
of approval came from the sailors. They remembered how they had found
this man hiding in the lowest depths of the ship when they had come
aboard. While their kidnapped comrades had fought, he had gone to hide.
"You--you don't mean it," Voronoff whispered.
"I never meant anything more," Craig answered. "We can't have any
slackers here. Either you go with us or you go overboard and take your
chances of swimming ashore."
His voice was hard and flat and there was not the slightest trace of
sympathy in it. There was no mistaking his meaning. Voronoff turned
pale. He looked quickly around as though seeking a place to hide.
"You've got no hole to pull in after you now," Craig said. "What is your
answer."
Voronoff gulped. "I'll--I'll go with you," he said.
"Good," Craig said. He gave swift orders for the preparation of the
attacking party. The sailors scurried to do his bidding. He was aware
that Michaelson was plucking at his sleeve.
"Weren't you being rather hard on him?" the scientist questioned.
"Maybe," Craig answered. "The truth is, I don't like him. There is
something furtive about him. He impresses me as being pretty much of a
rat. Besides, we need every man we can get."
"I know we do," Michaelson said slowly. "But would you honestly have
thrown him overboard if he had refused to go?"
Craig shrugged. "Don't ask me such questions. I don't know the answers.
Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn't."
"I see," the scientist smiled. "You're a hard man, Craig. All I can say
is that in this situation we need a hard man and I'm glad we have you to
lead us."
"Thank you," Craig said.
* * * * *
Hours later Craig stood on the side of a mountain looking down at an
incredible scene. Guru, by devious paths known only to the dawn man, had
guided them here. Below them lay the city of the Ogrum.
The city was located on the edge of a huge, circular bay that had
apparently at some time in the remote past been the crater of a large
volcano. To the east where the walls of the volcano had crumbled down
was a vast swamp, a favorite feeding ground for the dinosaurs. Hundreds
of the great beasts could be heard screaming and fighting in the swamp.
The city itself held Craig's eyes.
He had seen the Ogrum in airplanes, he had seen them use gas, both of
which meant an advanced civilization, with a great knowledge of
technology. He had expected to find a city bright with lights, numbering
hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, with large factories, broad
streets, and--since they used planes--landing fields.
None of these things was visible. The city of the Ogrum was unlighted.
There were no wide streets, no factories in sight. There was only one
large building in the city, and the buildings which apparently served as
homes for the Ogrum were little better than crude huts. There was a
brilliant full moon overhead, clearly revealing the whole scene.
"It's not possible!" Craig whispered to Michaelson. "This can't be the
city of the Ogrum. Guru brought us to the wrong place."
The scientist questioned Guru. Craig could hear the dawn man's replies.
"Guru says this is the right place," Michaelson spoke. "He says this is
the city of the Ogrum, that there is no other city."
"But with the exception of that temple, this place is a dump!" Craig
protested. "I have seen Papuan head-hunters who had built more
pretentious cities than this. The Ogrum have planes. You can't build
planes without a complex industrial system."
"It is certainly strange," the scientist said musingly. "But Guru
insists this is the place and I am inclined to believe him. You will
note also that the city below us is not laid out in streets and I see no
evidence of a lighting system."
"Maybe they've got a black-out on," a sailor suggested.
Guru, consulted on this point, said no, the city of the Ogrum was always
dark at night. Guru had a great deal of difficulty in understanding what
was meant by light, but once he grasped the idea, he insisted the Ogrum
never used lights.
"Well, it's a damned mystery," Craig said. "And I'm going down there and
find out about it. Guru, come with me."
Craig had spent the hours in the boats trying to grasp the language of
the dawn man. He still did not understand Guru as well as Michaelson did
but he could understand enough for his purpose.
"Just the two of you going down there?" Michaelson questioned.
"Yes. Any more would only increase the chances of discovery. We've got
to know the lay of the land and we've got to have some idea of what we
will meet down there before we attempt a rescue. We probably will not be
able to make an attack before tomorrow night anyhow."
After disposing his force and ordering them to get as much rest as
possible, Craig and Guru started down to the city of the Ogrum.
Michaelson had to be restrained from accompanying them.
"You stay here," Craig bluntly told the scientist. "You're not as young
as I am and you need a rest."
Overhead was a broad tropic moon. There was no wind. From the great
swamp came the only sound that broke the silence of the night, the
scream of the dinosaurs, the roaring of the great lions of this time.
Below lay the strange city of the Ogrum.
* * * * *
Craig felt the weirdness of the scene as he and Guru started down the
side of the mountain. What kind of creatures were the Ogrum? What secret
lay behind their existence? They had left no mark on history as he knew
it. So far as the human race knew, the Ogrum had never existed. And
yet--the sudden thought was startling--there was a word in the English
language that came close to describing these creatures--ogre! Ogre and
Ogrum were very similar. Were these the original ogres, those
mythological monsters who devoured human beings? Had the Ogrum, known,
feared, and named by the dawn men, come down through legends as ogres?
The thought sent a shivery feeling up Craig's spine. Was he going down
into a city of monsters? Were Stinky Higgins and Margy Sharp and
hundreds of men from the Idaho held as prisoners by ogres? What horrible
secret was hidden down there in that silent city?
They reached the edge of the city. It was larger than Craig had thought.
Hundreds, possibly thousands of rude huts, were hidden in the jungle
growth. The place smelled bad. Apparently no effort at sanitation had
ever been made. A nauseous stench arose from the ground. Craig wrinkled
his nose in disgust.
"Filth!" he muttered. "This place needs nothing so much as it needs
burning to the ground. Where Ogrum, Guru?" he said, turning to the dawn
man.
"Ogrum sleep," Guru answered. "In little caves," he said, nodding toward
the huts. "Ogrum sleep."
"Where prisoners?" Craig asked. He had to rephrase the question and
repeat it several times before the dawn man understood.
"In big cave," Guru said, understanding at last.
"Where big cave?" Craig asked.
"Big rock cave," Guru answered, pointing toward the large stone temple
that stood in the center of the city.
"Then that is where we are going," Craig said. "Come on."
Guru hung back. Craig sensed the dawn man's fear. "What's wrong?" he
asked.
"Monster that is always hungry in big cave," Guru answered.
"Ah," Craig said. The monster that is always hungry! The bright beast
that eats forever! A shiver passed through him as he remembered how Guru
had described whatever was in the cave. "What is the monster?" he
questioned.
But Guru either did not understand or could not explain, and Craig was
left with no knowledge of the nature of the monster. However he could
guess that the Ogrum regarded the thing in the temple as a god and
offered sacrifices to it, an impression which Guru confirmed.
"Tomorrow when sun goes," Guru said. "Ogrum feed one man to bright beast
that is always hungry. Next day when sun goes feed beast again. Keep up
until no one left to feed. Then go hunt more people."
Craig recognized the performance as an incredibly ancient ritual of
sacrifice to ensure the return of the sun. The Ogrum seemingly had no
real knowledge of the universe. Each night when the sun went down they
were not sure that it would rise again. To make certain the bright light
in the sky would return again, they offered a sacrifice to it.
"What do they do when they run out of captives?" he asked.
"Catch Ogrum, feed him to beast," the dawn man answered.
When they ran out of captives, the Ogrum sacrificed their own people!
"Well, we've still got to find out what is in that temple and where our
people are being held," Craig said grimly. "If Guru is afraid, Guru may
stay here. I will go alone."
Guru was afraid. There was no doubt about that. Craig did not criticize
the dawn man for being afraid. He regarded it as evidence of good, sound
sense. But, afraid or not, Guru went with him. Slipping like a pair of
ghosts through the rough paths that served as streets, they entered the
silent city. Guru was as noiseless as a shadow, and Craig, every sense
alert, moved as quietly as an Indian. The big American knew that from
any of the huts an Ogrum might emerge at any moment.
* * * * *
They reached the temple unobserved.
It was a bigger building than had been apparent from the mountain above.
Unlike the huts, it was constructed of stone. Roughly circular in shape,
a line of columns circled the outer edge. The construction was crude.
The Ogrum either had not yet invented the arch or scorned to use it.
Numerous holes big enough for a man to enter standing erect, but not
much bigger, served as entrances. The holes were without doors, another
invention the Ogrum apparently had not yet made, and Craig was again
struck by the strangely warped development of this race that knew how to
build airplanes and to use poison gas but still did not know how to
build arches.
Unlike the city, the temple was guarded. Yellow-robed, shaven-headed
sentries paced around the building keeping inside the circles of the
columns.
"Friends of the bright beast that is always hungry," Guru called them.
Craig decided they were priests, temple guards. He saw they were armed
with spears and swords. In addition each guard carried a pouch of small,
round objects that looked like grenades.
"Are those things _grenades_?" Craig whispered. But Guru had never heard
of grenades. He did not understand. Nor could Craig make him understand.
Through the small dark holes that served as entrances to the temple
occasional flashes of light could be seen. The light was dull, like the
fitful glow from a campfire that has almost burned out.
"What is that?" Craig asked.
But Guru either did not know or, for some superstitious reason, refused
to talk.
"I'm going into that temple," Craig decided. "You stay here and wait for
me."
This time Guru did not insist on going along and Craig realized that the
dawn man was desperately afraid of something within the temple. Craig,
waiting until one of the pacing sentries had passed, darted into the
nearest opening.
He knew, as he slid into the building, that there was an excellent
chance he would never come out, but he had to go in. He had to know what
was in there, so he could plan how to defeat it. He had to know where
the men of the Idaho were held prisoner and how well they were guarded
and if it was possible to organize a way for them to escape. Finally, he
had to know the nature of the bright beast that was always hungry, the
god of the Ogrum.
What was the monster that was always hungry? Some black leering idol on
whose altar was daily sacrificed a living victim? Or was it something
else, some real monster that the Ogrum believed to be divine?
Guided by the fitful flickering of light ahead of him, Craig slipped
along what was in effect an artificial tunnel. He reached the end of the
tunnel, and stopped, appalled at what he saw.
The temple was built like a gigantic amphitheater, like some large bowl
in which athletic contests were held. Circling downward in ordered rows
were tier on tier of rough stone steps. Down below him, in a huge cup
that apparently rose from the solid foundation of the mountain itself
was--_a seething mass of white-hot bubbling lava_!
* * * * *
The city of the Ogrum was located in the crater of a supposedly extinct
volcano. The volcano was not extinct. It was merely inactive. Fires
still seethed in its heart, and the white-hot lava, held in balance by
some subterranean arrangement of pressures, bubbled up here, like a
geyser that never overflows and never subsides.
This bowl of lava, rising from the volcano beneath, was what Guru called
the white beast that was always hungry. It was the god of the Ogrum. In
a flash Craig saw why they worshipped it and why they fed human
sacrifices to it. It was bright and hot like the sun. Therefore, by the
laws of sympathetic magic, a sacrifice offered to the lava was the same
as a sacrifice offered to the sun. The Ogrum, creatures of the dawn
world, in spite of their planes and their poison gas, had no real
knowledge of science, of the laws of cause and effect. The Ogrum thought
that they could assure the return of the warming and life-giving sun by
offering a living sacrifice to this bubbling lava!
If their reasoning was erroneous and false, it was nonetheless hideous
and real for all that. For they would certainly offer in sacrifice,
here, every man taken from the Idaho, unless they were prevented by
force.
Across the arena he could see a larger opening closed by a grill of
wooden poles. The flickering light from the pool of bubbling lava
enabled him to see faces behind the grill--the prisoners. Involuntarily
he started toward them. Then he saw the company of shaven-headed yellow
clad guards standing beside the enclosure.
The Ogrum were on watch!
Studying the situation, Craig could see no way by which he could effect
the release of the men. He had a handful of sailors to help him. There
were thousands of the Ogrum. The Ogrum had planes and if they did not
have firearms, they certainly had other weapons.
"Surprise!" Craig thought. "We've got to take them by surprise, divert
them long enough to release our men. Then--" He cursed softly. Presuming
a sudden surprise attack enabled them to release the prisoners? What
would happen then?
"They'll hit us with planes!" Craig cursed. "They'll gas us and spray
acid on us, and even if we manage to get away from here, they will
follow us through the air." His eyes narrowed. "Which means that we have
got to blow up their hangar, destroy their planes, first of all. Then--"
A plan was maturing in his mind. He slipped out of the temple, watched
his chances and darted across the open space when no sentry was near,
rejoined Guru.
The dawn man was frantic with excitement. "See monster?" he questioned.
"There is no monster," Craig said grimly. "Guru, where cave where Ogrum
keep riding birds?"
To Guru, the planes were merely large birds that the Ogrum rode. Craig
was asking the dawn man where the hangar was located. Guru led him
around the temple, pointed to a projecting wing. "Birds kept there," he
said.
The hangar was open. In line with their ignorance of doors, the Ogrum
had never devised a method of closing the entrance of the building where
they kept--and no doubt built--their planes. An open space leading down
to the edge of the bay apparently was the runway where the planes
landed. Inside the hangar Craig could glimpse the strange airships of
the Ogrum. Except for the regular sentries that circled the whole
immense temple, the hangar was unguarded.
* * * * *
"Twenty men with grenades will hit the hangar first!" Craig thought.
"They'll smash the planes and then they will appear to retreat. The
Ogrum will follow. Meanwhile across the city, another twenty men will
suddenly appear and start firing the thatch huts. The Ogrum will be
confused. Before they can organize themselves, I'll take a hundred men
and hit the temple. By God, it will work!
"Then," Craig thought, "we'll die one at a time as we try to make our
getaway. The Ogrum, even without planes, will hunt us through the jungle
forever." He paused, seeking a solution to that difficulty. To free the
prisoners only to have everybody perish from the relentless attack of
the Ogrum would be no gain.
"The only way to keep the Ogrum from pursuing us is to destroy
them--utterly!" Craig thought grimly. He had no qualms about destroying
the Ogrum, if he could. The only problem was how! He had not enough men
and not enough strength to meet them in open battle. Yet they had to be
destroyed.
"Return to others," he told Guru.
The dawn man returned by a different route, passing through the other
edge of the city of the Ogrum. Here they found a heavy stone wall, like
the retaining dike of a river.
"Why wall, Guru?" Craig questioned.
"Keep earth-shakers out of Ogrum squatting place," the dawn man
answered. "Earth-shakers" was Guru's name for the dinosaurs and
"squatting place" was his word for city. Beyond the wall was the vast
swamp. The Ogrum had erected the wall to keep the dinosaurs out of their
city.
"Well, I'm damned," said Craig thoughtfully. "I wonder. Hurry, Guru.
Must get back before sun rise."
At a swift trot, the dawn man led him up the mountain.
* * * * *
"This is what we're going to do," Craig said excitedly to Michaelson.
The sailors, listening closely, squatted around him in the darkness.
Dawn was not far off. Already the sky in the east was beginning to turn
gray.
Swiftly he outlined his plan of attack, submitted it to the scientist.
"I am no military strategist," Michaelson said slowly. "I am not
competent to criticize your suggestions."
"I am," a voice spoke. "I've studied military strategy. Your plan hasn't
got a chance in a thousand to succeed. You are just getting us all
killed for nothing."
It was Voronoff who spoke.
"That may be true," Craig admitted. "If you have a better plan, I'm
willing to listen."
"I've told you all along the only thing to do is to clear out of here as
fast as we can."
"That is the one thing we're not going to do," Craig said icily. "If you
have nothing constructive to offer, keep your damned mouth shut."
Voronoff sullenly walked away.
Craig selected a group to charge the hangar where the planes were kept,
a second group to provide a diversionary attack across the city, and a
third group to hit the temple and release the prisoners. The attack was
to start just after darkness fell the next night. At that time, so Guru
said, all the Ogrum would be gathered in the temple to watch the
sacrifice.
"And after that," Michaelson said slowly. "What is to happen?"
"Ah," said Craig. "There is the heart of the affair. What happens next
will determine whether any of us ever get out of here alive. And," he
looked steadily at the scientist, "that is where you come in."
"I? What am I to do?"
"You and Guru are going to take a dozen men and round up as many of
Guru's people as you can find. Here is what you and Guru are going to
do."
In great detail Craig outlined the part the scientist and the dawn man
were to play in the attack on the Ogrum. They made an odd pair.
Michaelson, almost a physical weakling but possessed of one of the
keenest minds of the Twentieth Century; Guru, a splendidly muscled giant
but almost a child mentally.
"Do--do you think our part in the attack will really work?" the
scientist hesitantly asked.
"It's got to work," Craig said bluntly. "If it doesn't work, we are all
dead men."