The Prey of the Plant
We stopped the machine on the first little eminence of the open space,
to survey the vastly different and unfamiliar region that lay before
us. It was an open, park-like country. There were broad meadows and low
hills covered with a fine turf of luxuriant green grass. There were
scattering small groves and great solitary trees so profusely laden
with vast purple blossoms that they seemed afire with purple flame.
It was a strange landscape, and not without a certain unearthly beauty.
The rich, green plains and hills lay all about before us, scattered
with clumps of brilliant purple woodland, and stretching up to the
great blue cliffs in the misty distance. A lurid, melancholy weirdness
was given to the scene by the awful scarlet glare of the sky.
Presently we rolled on again, across the broad level meadow, and over a
little stream, and through a copse of flaming purple trees. We had gone
another mile when Sam, still at the controls, shouted above the beating
of the engine and the clatter of the machinery.
"Look, Mel! Get it! Shoot! North of us!"
Still behind the gun, I looked out quickly. To the north was an open
green field of several acres extent. Beyond, the scattering purple
trees rose, dotting the green hills until at last they merged in the
slope that reached up to the cliffs in the misty distance beneath the
amazing sky.
For a moment my eyes searched that strange scene in vain, and then I
saw the huge green wings of one of the terrible flying plants, flapping
deliberately above the brilliantly purple trees a hundred yards to our
right. Sam was already swinging the machine about in that direction.
Without waiting to see the cause of his frantic appeal, I trained the
gun and depressed the firing pin.
[Illustration: _For a moment my eyes searched that strange scene in
vain, and then I saw the huge green wings of one of the terrible flying
plants, flapping deliberately above the brilliantly purple trees a
hundred yards to our right.... Without waiting to see the cause of his
frantic appeal, I swung the gun, trained it, and depressed the firing
pin. "Mel," cried Sam, "one of those red tentacles was wrapped around a
human being."_]
The little gun roared sharply, slid quickly back and forward again in
its recoil cylinders, and the mechanism clicked smoothly as another
shell was thrown into the breech. For a moment my vision was obscured
by the thick white cloud of smoke. Peering intently, I saw the
unearthly monster flying more slowly--sinking. In a moment it was out
of sight behind the purple trees.
"Did you hit it?" Sam cried anxiously.
"I think so. But why all the fuss about that one? There are plenty more
back in the jungle."
"Oh, didn't you see? It was carrying something!"
"Carrying something?"
"Mel, one of those red tentacles was wrapped around a _man_!"
He had brought the lumbering machine about in the direction of the
place where we had last seen the monster. We went at a reckless pace.
The machine rocked and banged, and we were shaken up unmercifully when
we crossed a dry watercourse. Two or three of the trees went down
before our undeviating and irresistible advance, filling the air with
purple clouds of petals from the great bright flowers.
Then I saw before us, thirty yards away, the great strange creature
lying flat on the ground, with wings outspread. Beneath it, in the
coils of one of the thick tentacles, I saw the gleam of a naked human
body.
The machine jerked to a halt and I threw open the manhole and sprang
out on the deck. In a moment Sam was beside me. He had buckled on an
automatic pistol of the latest design and the heaviest caliber. He
handed me a duplicate weapon, with ammunition belt and holster, with
the warning, "We've got to expect the unexpected, and must be quick on
the draw!"
I fastened on the gun, and led the way down the ladder to the ground.
In a few seconds we stood by the dead monster. Seen at close range, it
was an appalling thing, indeed. It was very strange, and even the dead
body of it showed cruel strength. The green wings were like tough green
leather stretched over a metal frame. The body was armored with thick,
rough brown scales. The tough scarlet skin of the tentacular limbs was
smooth and rubber-like. Already the weird flower at the forward end was
withered and black. The ground about the thing was stained with a flood
of green liquid from the terrible wound the shell had torn.
I hurried around it. Only the shoulder and arm of the human prey
were in sight. Yes, it was a human being, and the skin had the clear
smoothness of youth. I bent closer and perceived, with an odd admixture
of feelings that made my heart beat wildly and then pause until I
reeled, that the skin had a soft greenish tan. I saw that the body,
lying under the wing alone, had not been crushed by the fall of the
monster.
"We'll be able to tell what manner of mankind we have to deal with
here," Sam said, though I scarcely heard him. "If our man was at all
civilized, there ought to be ornaments, or remnants of clothing. I
hardly expected human life here. But it may be a human science that is
threatening our world!"
He stumbled over the end of one of the thick red tentacles. It moved
uncertainly, and he stopped in a sort of fascinated horror. "God!" he
muttered. Indeed, it was a terrible thing. The slick red limb, four
inches thick, ended in a suction cup, with a hideous claw, a good
twelve inches long, fastened at the side. It made one's flesh creep to
think of that terrible claw ripping and tearing flesh, or of the cupped
end of the tube sucking blood from it.
I pulled at the still white form beneath the wing. One of the crimson
tentacles still clung closely about the young body. I tried to pull
it free; but at my touch it seemed to tighten with a sort of aimless
reflex action. Sam got out his sheath knife and cut at it. It was very
tough, and the viscid green slime flowed from the abrasions in its
rubber-like membrane, but presently we cut it in two. I drew the body
from under the wing.
I echoed Sam's exclamation. "It's the body of a woman!"