As I turned at Nalte's warning cry, I thought that I saw something
dodge behind low bushes on the opposite bank.
"What was it, Nalte?" I demanded.
"Oh, it couldn't be what I thought I saw," she whispered excitedly. "I
must be mistaken."
"What did you think you saw?"
"There's another--there--look!" she cried.
And then I saw it. It stepped from behind the bole of a large tree and
stood eyeing us, its fangs bared in a snarl. It was a man that went on
four feet like a beast. Its hind legs were short, and it walked on its
hind toes, the heels corresponding to the hocks of animals. Its hands
were more human, and it walked flat on the palms of them in front.
Its nose was flat, its mouth broad, and its heavy, undershot jaws
were armed with powerful teeth. Its eyes were small and close set and
extremely savage. Its skin was white and almost hairless except upon
its head and jowls. Another one appeared suddenly beside it.
"You don't know what they are?" I asked Nalte.
"We have heard of them in Andoo, but no one ever believed that they
existed. They are called zangans. If the stories I have heard are true
they are terribly ferocious. They hunt in packs and devour men as well
as beasts."
Zangan means beast-man, and no better word could have been coined to
describe the creature that faced us across that little stream in far
Noobol. And now others came slinking into view from the shelter of
bushes and from behind the boles of trees.
"I think we had better hunt elsewhere," I said in a weak effort to be
jocose.
"Let's take to the boat again," suggested Nalte.
We had already walked a little distance from the spot where I had
moored our craft, and as we turned to retrace our steps I saw several
of the zangans enter the water on the opposite side and approach the
boat. They were much closer to it than we, and long before I could
untie it and drag it into deeper water they could be upon us.
"It is too late!" cried Nalte.
"Let's fall back slowly to that little rise of ground behind us," I
said. "Perhaps I can hold them off there."
We retreated slowly, watching the zangans as they crossed the stream
toward us. When they came out on shore they shook themselves as dogs
do, and then they came slinking after us again. They reminded me of
tigers--human tigers--and their gait was much that of a stalking tiger
as they approached with flattened heads and snarling lips.
They growled and snapped at one another, revealing a viciousness
greater than that of beasts. Momentarily I expected a charge, and I
knew that when it came Nalte's troubles and mine would be over forever.
We wouldn't have even a fighting chance against that savage pack.
There were about twenty of them, mostly males; but there were a couple
of females and two or three half grown cubs. On the back of one of the
females rode a baby, its arms tightly hugging the neck of its mother.
Savage as they appeared, they followed us warily as though they were
half afraid of us; but their long, easy strides were constantly cutting
down the distance between us.
* * * * *
When we reached the little mound toward which we had been retreating
they were still fifty yards behind us. As we started to ascend the rise
a large male trotted forward, voicing a low roar. It was as though it
had just occurred to him that we might be trying to escape and that he
ought to try to prevent it.
I stopped and faced him, fitting an arrow to my bow. Drawing the shaft
back to the very tip I let him have it squarely in the chest. He
stopped in his tracks, roared horribly, and clawed at the feathered end
protruding from his body; then he came on again; but he was staggering,
and presently he sank to the ground, struggled for a moment, and lay
still.
The others had stopped and were watching him. Suddenly a young male ran
up to him and bit him savagely about the head and neck; then raised his
head and voiced a hideous roar. I guessed that it was a challenge as I
saw him look about him at the other members of the pack. Here, perhaps,
was a new leader usurping the powers of the one who had fallen.
Apparently no one was prepared to question his authority, and now he
turned his attention again to us. He did not advance directly toward
us, but slunk off to one side. As he did so he turned and growled at
his fellows. That he was communicating orders to them at once became
evident, for immediately they spread out as though to surround us.
I loosed another arrow then, this time at the new leader. I struck him
in the side and elicited such a roar of pain and rage as I hope I may
never hear again--at least not under such circumstances.
Reaching back with one hand the beast-man seized the shaft and tore it
from his body, inflicting a far more serious hurt than the arrow had
made in entering; and now his roars and screams fairly shook the ground.
The others paused to watch him, and I saw one large male slink slowly
toward the wounded leader. The latter saw him, too; and with bared
fangs and ferocious growls charged him. The ambitious one, evidently
realizing that his hopes had been premature, wheeled and fled; and the
new chief let him go and turned again toward us.
By this time we were three-quarters surrounded. There were nearly
twenty ferocious beasts confronting us, and I had less than a dozen
arrows.
Nalte touched me on the arm. "Good-by, Carson," she said. "Now, surely,
the last second is upon us."
I shook my head. "I am saving the last second in which to die," I
replied. "Until then I shall not admit that there is ever to be a last
second for me, and then it will be too late to matter."
"I admire your courage if not your reasoning," said Nalte, the ghost of
a smile on her lips. "But at least it will be a quick death--did you
see how that fellow tore at the throat of the first one you shot? It is
better than what Skor would have done to us."
"At least we shall be dead," I observed.
"Here they come!" cried Nalte.
They were closing in on us now from three sides. Arrow after arrow I
drove into them, nor once did I miss my mark; but they only stopped
those that I hit--the others slunk steadily forward.
They were almost upon us as I loosed my last arrow. Nalte was standing
close beside me. I put an arm about her.
"Hold me close," she said. "I am not afraid to die, but I do not want
to be alone--even for an instant."
"You are not dead yet, Nalte." I couldn't think of anything else to
say. It must have sounded foolish at such a time, but Nalte ignored it.
"You have been very good to me, Carson," she said.
"And you have been a regular brick, Nalte, if you know what that
means--which you don't."
"Good-by, Carson! It _is_ the last second."
"I guess it is, Nalte." I stooped and kissed her. "Good-by!"
* * * * *
From above us and behind us on the mound came a sudden crackling hum
that was like the noise that an X-ray machine makes, but I knew that it
was not an X-ray machine. I knew what it was even without the evidence
of the crumpling bodies of the zangans dropping to the ground before
us--it was the hum of the r-ray rifle of Amtor!
I wheeled and looked up toward the summit of the mound. There stood
a dozen men pouring streams of the destructive rays upon the pack.
It lasted for but a few seconds, but not one of the ferocious beasts
escaped death. Then one of our rescuers (or were they our captors) came
toward us.
He, like his companions, was a man of almost perfect physique, with a
handsome, intelligent face. My first impression was that if these were
fair examples of the citizens of that white city from which I assumed
they had come, we must have stumbled upon an Olympus inhabited solely
by gods.
In every company of men we are accustomed to seeing some whose
proportions or features are ungainly or uncouth; but here, though no
two men exactly resembled one another, all were singularly handsome and
symmetrically proportioned.
He who approached us wore the customary gee-string and military harness
of the men of Amtor. His trappings were handsome without being ornate,
and I guessed from the insigne on the fillet that encircled his brow
that he was an officer.
"You had a close call," he said pleasantly.
"Rather too close for comfort," I replied. "We have you to thank for
our lives."
"I am glad that I arrived in time. I happened to be on the river wall
as you drifted past, and saw your encounter with the men from Kormor.
My interest was aroused; and, knowing that you were headed for trouble
down river on account of the falls, I hurried down to try to warn you."
"A rather unusual interest in strangers for a man of Amtor," I
commented, "but I can assure you that I appreciate it even if I do not
understand it."
He laughed shortly. "It was the way you handled those three creatures
of Skor," he explained. "I saw possibilities in such a man, and we
are always looking for better qualities to infuse into the blood of
Havatoo. But come, let me introduce myself. I am Ero Shan."
"And this is Nalte of Andoo," I replied, "and I am Carson Napier of
California."
"I have heard of Andoo," he acknowledged. "They raise an exceptionally
fine breed of people there, but I never heard of your country. In fact
I have never seen a man before with blue eyes and yellow hair. Are all
the people of Cal--"
"California," I prompted.
"--of California like you?"
"Oh, no! There are all colors among us, of hair and eyes and skin."
"But how can you breed true to type, then?" he demanded.
"We don't," I had to admit.
"Rather shocking," he said, half to himself. "Immoral--racially
immoral. Well, be that as it may, your system seems to have produced a
rather fine type at that; and now, if you will come with me, we shall
return to Havatoo."
"May I ask," I inquired, "if we return as guests or as prisoners?"
He smiled, just the shadow of a smile. "Will that make any
difference--as to whether you return with me or not?"