SADU ATTACKS
Sadu, the lion, pacing slowly and majestically through the velvet
blackness of a jungle night, came to a sudden halt as Siha, the wind,
brought to his sensitive nostrils the acrid scent of burning wood.
For several long minutes the great cat stood as though turned to stone,
his broad nostrils twitching nervously under the biting fumes. Sadu was
unpleasantly familiar with the red teeth that ate everything in their
path, for it had been scarcely a moon ago that he barely escaped the
fangs of a forest fire.
Had it been smoke alone which Sadu smelled, he would have turned away
and sought his night's food elsewhere. But commingled with the scent of
fire was another smell, and it was the latter that finally sent him
slinking ahead.
After the lion progressed another several hundred yards in this manner,
the winding game trail debouched abruptly into a large natural clearing
bordering the reed-covered banks of a wide shallow river.
Standing amid the impenetrable shadows cast by a great tree at the
clearing's edge, Sadu surveyed with slitted eyes the bustle of activity
about the open ground. There were at least fifty men there, some of them
tending a blazing windrow of branches arranged in a large circle to
encompass a considerable section of open ground where were heaped
several mounds of supplies. Others were preparing the evening meal,
bringing water from the river and performing the other duties which go
with establishing camp for the night.
It was the scent of these men that had brought Sadu here. Ordinarily he
would have passed up the two-legged creatures for the more satisfactory
flesh of zebra or deer, but there had been an absence of such meat
lately because grass-replenishing rain had not fallen in many moons and
the grass-eaters had strayed away from the vicinity in search of fresh
pastures. Too, Sadu had found man easy prey when he was alone--in
numbers he was dangerous, particularly when backed by burning brands and
sharp-pointed sticks.
The circle of fire with which these men had surrounded themselves gave
Sadu pause. Only the pangs of hunger kept him from turning about and
seeking less complicated prey. Slowly the heavy lips rolled back, baring
the great fangs, and from the depths of the cavernous chest came a
series of grunting coughs.
As the dull, rumbling challenge reached the ears of those within the
camp, men straightened from their tasks and looked fearfully into the
heavy darkness beyond the light from the fires. A few unslung their bows
and tested the strings, while others made sure their heavy war spears
were within reach.
In the center of the camp itself, a group of five people--two girls and
three men--broke off their conversation as the first notes of Sadu's
voice reached them, and looked nervously at one another.
"Sadu is hungry too," one of the girls observed lightly as she turned
her attention back to the freshly grilled meat on the clay dish before
her.
"Will he attack us?" the other girl asked unsteadily, her dark eyes
round with fear. Her slender, softly rounded body was covered with a
knee-length tunic of some coarse, woven material and a cloud of black
curls framed the delicate features of her olive-skinned face.
"I do not think so, Alurna," the first girl said, without taking her
eyes from her food. "Sadu fears fire; he would have to be close to
starving to brave the flames."
One of the three men, a slight, small-boned man whose round,
full-fleshed face habitually wore an expression of slow-witted
amiability, moved a little closer to the fire. "How do we know," he said
anxiously, "whether this lion is not that hungry?"
The first girl shook back her wealth of reddish brown hair and looked at
the speaker, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter. She said, "We
_can't_ know, Javan--not until he either springs through the fire or
turns around and goes away."
If the words brought any comfort to Javan, his actions failed to show
it. Once more he shifted his position until he was close to sitting in
the burning branches and the fingers of his right hand were trembling
uncontrollably as he groped for his flint-tipped spear.
"Dylara jests, Javan," the tall, broad-shouldered man next to him said.
"There are too many of us for even several lions to attack."
"You say that, Jotan," Dylara said, "because you do not know Sadu as I
know him. Often he will charge a hundred warriors through fires far
larger than ours, yet at times several lions have run away from one man
walking alone in the jungle. More than any other beast, Sadu is a
creature of moods, and no one can say for sure what he will do."
* * * * *
The third man in the group rose now to scrape the remaining food on his
plate into the fire. He said, "We are certainly in no position to
dispute with Dylara the habits of animals." There was a subtle note of
condescension in his voice that only Jotan and the princess Alurna
noticed. "You must remember that Dylara is different from us. Most of
her life has been spent among the people of the caves, and there can be
no doubt but that the barbarians know the jungle and its life far better
than we can ever hope to."
Jotan's pale blue eyes frosted over and the hard, firm angle of his jaw
tightened. For nearly two moons now he had endured Tamar's gibes at his
love for a girl who had been a barbarian slave of Sephar's court. Many
times during those sixty suns had Tamar said that no member of Ammad's
ruling class, as was Jotan, had a right to take as mate some half-savage
cave girl. There was such a thing, argued Tamar, as _noblesse oblige_,
and Jotan was not only alienating his friends by this mad passion but
breaking the laws of his class and his country.
Not that Tamar had anything personal against Dylara. On the contrary, he
thought her beautiful and as gracious and regal as Alurna herself. But
there was the matter of birth and blood--barriers too great for
acceptance as the noble Jotan's mate.
All this was in Jotan's thoughts as he answered Tamar's last remark.
"Perhaps it would be better for us," he observed lightly, "if we had a
little of Dylara's knowledge of the jungle creatures and their ways.
Perhaps then we would be spared such terror at the sound of Sadu's
roar."
He made the statement while looking full into Tamar's eyes, and was
rewarded by seeing a tinge of red creep into his friend's freshly
scraped cheeks. And because no man likes to be called a coward, no
matter how indirectly, Tamar sought to hit back ... in the one way that
would cut Jotan the deepest.
"It is unfortunate," he said mildly, "that we could not have brought
along with us the wild man who came to Sephar seeking Dylara. I'll wager
he would not turn a hair were Sadu to charge among us at this moment."
As though in direct challenge to the statement, Sadu, in the darkness
beyond the camp, again lifted his voice in the hunting roar of the king
of beasts.
This time the hot blood of anger welled into Jotan's face and a biting
retort formed on his lips. But a glimpse of Dylara's suddenly stricken
expression checked them there, unuttered.
In the brief silence that followed Tamar's words, Dylara was aware that
the others were watching her as though to learn if Tamar's edged comment
would goad her into a response.
And so she made answer; and while the words were directed to Tamar, it
was Jotan whom they hurt.
"You are right, Tamar," she said proudly. "Tharn, more than any man I
have ever known, is free of fear. How could he know fear when there is
no man or animal that could match his strength, agility or quick mind."
"Had you seen him, as I did, crush the skull of a full-grown lion with a
single blow of his fist, had you seen him close in battle with Tarlok,
the leopard, with only a stone knife to use against Tarlok's teeth and
claws, had he carried any of you through the highest branches of the
forest top--then you would know why I am sure he came through the
battles in Sephar's arena! That is why I know that even now he is on his
way to take me from you."
"And when he does come, neither you nor all the warriors with you can
keep him from his purpose. You are children--all of you!--when compared
to Tharn!"
* * * * *
The nails of Jotan's fingers were biting into his palms. "And would you
go with him, Dylara?" he asked between stiff lips.
The girl's lovely brown eyes softened as she saw the pain under his
carefully expressionless face.
"Yes, I would go with him," she said gently. "All of us know that I am
no more than a prisoner among you. All of you have been kind and
thoughtful and friendly toward me. Yet there is never a moment that I am
not under the eyes of a guard. That is why I say that, given the chance,
I would escape and return to the caves of Majok, my father."
Alurna shuddered. "You would not get very far, Dylara. The jungle beasts
would get you the first night."
"I think not," Dylara said matter-of-factly. "You keep forgetting that I
am not a Sepharian. The jungle and plains are not to me the horrible
places they seem to you who have spent your lives behind the stone walls
of your cities."
"How can you think of returning to such a life, Dylara?" Jotan said,
almost pleadingly. "It is no way for a girl to live--in constant danger
day after day, living in cold, damp holes in a cliff, wearing only an
animal skin."
"Wait until you have seen the city of Ammad! As wonderful as Sephar must
have seemed to you, it is crude and barbaric when compared to the
splendor of the cities of my country. And in all the world there is no
palace so lavish as that of Jaltor, king of all Ammad. Why, a few days
among the glories and comforts of life among my people and the thought
of returning to your caves would be hateful indeed!"
But Dylara was shaking her head. "No, Jotan. Tamar is right when he
says I would not fit into such a life. I was taken to Sephar as a slave
to the Sepharians; and, as considerate as you have been, I am being
taken to Ammad while still a slave."
"Not as a slave!" Jotan protested. "You are to become my mate. You will
be shown the same honor, the same respect that I am given. I am a noble
of Ammad, Dylara. Jaltor, ruler of Ammad, is my father's closest friend.
He--all Ammad--will be at your feet the day we go before the high-priest
of the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud and he makes you my mate."
The conversation clearly had gotten out of hand. Both Jotan and Dylara,
so hard did each strive to make the other see his side of the argument,
were putting into words things they ordinarily would never have said in
front of those with them.
And all during the exchange, Alurna, princess of Sephar, sat there and
watched them, her head bowed slightly and a hand shielding her face that
none might see the hatred and jealousy mirrored there.
For Jotan was hers! Whether he was aware of that as yet was immaterial.
Men had been blinded by beauty before and still brought to their senses
before it was too late. As lovely as the cave girl was, Alurna knew that
her own beauty suffered little by comparison--something that Jotan would
have seen long ago were his eyes not blinded by a mad infatuation.
There was little else to do for the time being, Alurna realized, except
wait. Tonight or tomorrow or a moon from now the opportunity for ridding
herself of her brown-haired rival would come along. She had almost
arranged the girl's death in Sephar, but Dylara had slain the hired
assassin. Next time the result would be different. Fortunately it was
not something that had to be done in a hurry. Dylara gave no indication
of willingly becoming Jotan's mate, and being a person of high
principles, Jotan would have her no other way. The only danger, really,
was that his unfailing courtesy, thoughtfulness and complete adoration
might succeed in winning the cave girl's love.
* * * * *
Sadu, the lion, standing beyond the circle of light cast by the fire,
raised his voice in a challenging roar that cut into silence the
encampment of humans. His hunger was growing with the passage of time
and the sight of the many two-legged creatures behind the leaping
flames.
Again, Sadu's majestic voice rolled out, filling the clearing with
spine-tingling sound, and from the depths of night-shrouded jungle
behind him came an answering roar. A moment later the foliage parted and
a second lion slunk through the shadows just beyond the periphery of
light. The newcomer was a great, tawny-maned beast even larger than the
first. He eyed the blazing piles of branches and the men beyond them
with slitted eyes for a long moment, then uttered a series of low,
coughing grunts. In response to the signal, three more lions--a female
and two full-grown males--emerged from the undergrowth to join their
leader.
The first lion eyed the strange family and bared his great fangs,
warning them with a low rumble that he would permit no interference in
his hunting. They stared at him silently with a kind of dignified
reserve, then turned their attention toward the humans beyond the wall
of fire.
Two full hours dragged past. Within the camp the larger part of the
caravan was sleeping soundly, huddled against the chill night air in
sleeping furs. The normal guard of ten warriors had been doubled against
the possibility of attack by the great cats.
Suddenly one of the lions rose to its feet and with regal deliberateness
stalked into the open ground bordering the line of fires. Slowly the
jungle king strode along the unsteady line of burning wood, his lithe
sinews rolling beneath the shimmering hide, the sinuous tail moving in
graceful undulations. Soundless were his padded paws on the turf and the
mighty voice was silent.
Several minutes passed before one of the guards caught sight of the
single lion. The man lifted a loud shout of alarm and several more of
the sentries hastened to join their companion. When he pointed out Sadu
less than a spear's cast outside the fires, the others readied their
weapons for the attack they expected at any moment; while Sadu, seeing
the flurry of motion among the hated manthings, lifted his mighty head
and gave voice to a thunderous roar. "... Dylara! Dylara!"
The cave girl awakened instantly at sound of the frightened voice. She
sat up and threw back the folds of her sleeping furs. In the flickering
reddish glow of the night fires she saw the slender form of the princess
Alurna bending over her.
"What is the matter?" Majok's daughter demanded.
"The lions!" Alurna moaned through chattering teeth. "Listen!"
Fully aroused by the other's panic, Dylara rose from the ground and
tried to pierce the velvet wall beyond the light. Most of the camp's
sentries were grouped at a point near the line of fire, fingering their
spear and bows nervously and staring at something between them and the
jungle.
... Sadu ceased his uneasy pacing, his tail lashing now in brief, jerky
movements. Too long had he put off feeding. The fearsome fires were
dimmer now; let them die down just a little more and he would leap
across them and take his food.
Elsewhere among the sheltering trees the other lions watched him with
unblinking attention. By now there were fully a score of the mammoth
brutes lying among the tall grasses and reeds. In two's and threes--even
one family of six--they had assembled, drawn to the scene by the voices
of the first arrivals.
Again Sadu threw back his head and poured out his rumbling roar, seeking
to build up his confidence sufficiently to brave the fires protecting
his prey. Cautiously he began to inch his way toward the flames, his
hindquarters held low, his majestic head extended and flattened until
his nose was close to the ground.
While behind him other lions, made bold by his move, also began to creep
toward the circle of fire.
* * * * *
Dylara stiffened as Sadu's august voice echoed through the clearing. Her
brown eyes, keener than most, began to pick out points of glowing yellow
among the black shadows of the trees--bits of light that she recognized
instantly as the eyes of lions. Even as she was conscious that there
were many of them, she became aware of their growing size.
The cave girl waited no longer. Pushing past the fear-ridden princess,
she went quickly to where Jotan slept nearby beneath a mound of furs and
began shaking him urgently by the shoulder.
The Ammadian opened his eyes. "What--what is it? Dylara? What is wrong?"
"The lions!" Dylara said hurriedly. "Many of them. They are preparing to
charge us!"
Flinging aside his furs, Jotan leaped to his feet and raced among the
sleeping warriors, arousing them with a prodding foot and a few urgent
words of explanation. Meanwhile, Dylara hurried to where the sentries
were keeping watchful eyes on the first lion.
"Quick!" she exclaimed. "Throw some of the burning branches among the
trees. There is still time to drive Sadu away!"
... Sadu, at sight of the rapidly awakening camp, halted his slow
advance. For a moment he hesitated, his highly strung nerves twitching
with indecision. And when several of the men dragged burning branches
from the fires and threw them, like blazing spears, in his direction, he
snarled uneasily and drew back. Already a few of the other lions had
turned tail to flee back into the jungle. In another moment the retreat
would become a rout and Sadu must seek elsewhere for food.
And then there occurred one of those unpredictable turns of fate which
none can foresee. One of the blazing brands, propelled by a strong arm,
struck full against the flank of a retreating lion. There followed a
puff of smoke as hair burned away a wide patch and seared the skin
beneath.
Sadu's uncertain temper blazed with the flame. With a startled roar that
paled to nothing the surrounding chorus of growls, screams and curses,
he wheeled about and bore down upon the camp, roaring as he came. A few
feet short of the flaming stockade, Sadu rose in a mighty leap, cleared
the flames easily, and landed squarely among the startled Sepharians.
Instantly pandemonium raged. The men scattered wildly from Sadu's
flailing claws and glistening fangs, only to encounter other lions who,
emboldened by the success of the first, had turned back to leap the
barrier. Already a dozen of the tawny, sinuous bodies were sowing death
among the ranks of Jotan's followers.
The princess Alurna huddled among a heap of furs and sought to close her
eyes against the horrors of the growing massacre. But not seeing at all
was infinitely worse than reality, and so her eyes remained open and
staring.
Suddenly a huge, yellow-maned monster bounded toward her. A lithe spring
brought it atop a mound of supplies scarcely ten feet from where she lay
paralyzed with fear. Slowly the lordly head swung in a menacing circle
and the savage eyes fixed upon her shrinking form. The small ears
twitched back until they lay tight against the sleek skull, the mammoth
maw parted to disclose awesome fangs and a low growl rumbled low in the
deep chest.
Jotan, shouting orders in an effort to rally his scattered men to some
semblance of order, caught sight of the doomed princess as Sadu rose in
his spring toward her. Careless of his own safety, he drew back his
strong right arm and launched his heavy war spear. The keen blade
flashed across the intervening space and caught Sadu squarely in the
chest, knocking him to one side and killing him instantly.
* * * * *
While all this was taking place, Dylara, daughter of Majok, had remained
crouched close to one of the heaps of burning branches where she knew
Sadu would be reluctant to approach. She saw man after man go down
beneath the ravaging cats, and twice she saw lions leap back into the
darkness, carrying the limp corpse of some unfortunate Ammadian. She
witnessed, too, Jaton's rescue of the princess Alurna, and despite the
awful carnage about her, she smiled grimly as Urim's daughter ran
forward and threw her arms about the tall Ammadian noble.
At the moment it abruptly dawned on Dylara that this was her opportunity
to escape from those who held her an unwilling captive. She turned her
head and stared out into the open ground between camp and forest edge,
seeing the long shadows cast by the flickering flames. If she could but
cross that ribbon of grassland safely and gain the safety of the trees!
Even as she silently voiced the wish, her mind was made up for her. From
behind one of the piles of supplies emerged a tawny shape. Two blazing
eyes caught sight of the cave girl, and heedless of the nearby fire, the
giant cat began to slink toward her.
Dylara, wise to the ways of the jungle, acted. Without a second's
hesitation she whirled about and raced through a narrow break in the
circle of fire, heading for the darkness beyond. Even as she acted, she
knew this might be merely exchanging one peril for another: there could
easily be ten lions between her and the safety of the trees.
With an earth-shaking roar, Sadu gave chase.
Her heart pounding wildly, Dylara shot across the open ground like an
arrow from a bow. Behind her, gaining ground as though his frail quarry
were standing still, came the lion, its jaws widely distended, low
growls welling from its throat.
The low-spreading branches of a forest tree loomed ahead of the fleeing
girl. Sadu was only a few feet behind her ... already he was launching
the last leap that would crush the girl to earth just short of her goal.
* * * * *
In the camp itself, Jotan's bellowed commands were beginning to take
effect on the disorganized warriors. Those still alive and unwounded
managed to form a spear-bristling phalanx, standing shoulder to
shoulder, while the blood-hungry cats moved slowly around them. Twice, a
lion charged that square of flint spear-tips, only to fall back with
roars of rage and bleeding from wounds. For a few minutes longer the
beasts continued to circle warily about the men, now and then feinting
charges in an effort to draw them into breaking ranks.
But the warriors, heartened by the confident bearing of their leader,
held fast in spite of the fearful nearness of distended jaws and
gleaming fangs.
At last, as though by some strange understanding, the lions began to
withdraw, dragging with them some of the torn bodies of warriors who had
died during the battle. Only the sharp commands of Jotan himself
prevented the others from an attempt to save their fallen comrades from
so horrible a fate--Jotan who was realist enough to know that any such
foolhardy action--no matter how noble the purpose--could only result in
further casualties.
When at last the lions were gone, Jotan set about restoring the broken
defenses of the camp. Fires were increased in number and size, scattered
supplies and weapons were reassembled and the wounded cared for.
Not until all this was done did Jotan learn of Dylara's disappearance.
At first he was nearly frantic with worry, picturing her as being
dragged away by one of the marauders. It was not until he questioned the
wounded that the true story came out.
"No, Sadu did not get her. Not in the camp anyway." The warrior, wincing
from the pain of a long gash in one arm, pulled himself into a sitting
position as he replied to Jotan's questions. "She was crouched down near
the fires until one of the lions began to creep up on her. She wasted no
time in doing something about that!"
"What _did_ she do?" Jotan demanded impatiently.
"The only thing she could have done: slipped through the fires and ran
for the trees."
The young Ammadian noble glanced toward the Stygian gloom of the distant
jungle and a faint shudder coursed through him. "What a mad thing to
do!" he said, half to himself. "I would rather face Sadu here in the
light than plunge into those shadows." To the wounded man he said, "Did
you see her reach the trees?"
The other man shook his head. "My eyes are not that good. The lion
chased her into the darkness and I lost sight of them both. She had a
good start and she ran very swiftly."
"Which way did she go?"
The warrior waved an arm toward the south. Jotan picked four men who,
carrying spears and torches, accompanied their leader in that direction.
They reached the fringe of trees and jungle to the south of the camp,
and walked among the tree boles, calling out the cave girl's name. But
only the voices of disturbed bird life and the distant scream of a
panther answered their cries.
"Sadu must have gotten her after all," said one of the four.
"I don't believe it!" Jotan snapped. "She knows the jungle beasts too
well for that to happen."
"Then why," asked another of the men, "does she not answer our calls?"
Jotan ignored the question. "Return to the camp," he said through a
strange lump in his throat. "When morning comes, we will take up the
search for her."
Alurna, still weak and shaken from her recent experience with Sadu,
watched the five men enter the camp. She saw Jotan dismiss the others
and come over to where she was seated between Tamar and Javan. When
there was no sight of Dylara, and when she noticed Jotan's grim
expression, her heart bounded with a wild and horrible hope.
"Well, Jotan?" Tamar said quietly.
* * * * *
His friend spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "There is no trace of
her," he admitted, and in his voice was a note of such intense suffering
that Tamar's heart went out to him.
Javan, blinked stolidly at the stricken man, put into words the unvoiced
question of the others. "The lions...."
Jotan shook his head. "I don't believe they got her. There were no signs
of a struggle. No ... bones." His voice faltered on that last word, and
he threw his hands wide in sick bewilderment. "I don't know what to
think!"
The princess Alurna spoke up suddenly in silken tones. "Have you
forgotten so soon, O noble Jotan, the cave girl's own words?"
Jotan stared deep into the faintly mocking gray-green eyes of Urim's
daughter. "What do you mean?" he said stiffly.
"Did she not say: 'I would escape and return to the caves of Majok, my
father'? Did those words mean so little to you?"
Harsh lines deepened at the corners of Jotan's lips. "Yes, she said
that. But she would not try to get away at night. Especially tonight,
when there are the God knows how many lions roaming about the camp. The
hardiest warrior would not dare that, let alone a frail girl."
"How long," Tamar broke in, "will you go on thinking of Dylara as a
'frail' girl? Can't you understand that she is not our kind of woman?
She does not fear the jungle: all that she needed was a chance to get
into it without our seeing her, and tonight she was given that chance.
You have Sadu to thank for that."
For several long minutes Jotan sat there without speaking, his gaze
fixed unseeingly on the leaping flames of the campfire. What strange
currents and cross-currents, he mused, had been set into motion by his
love for the girl of the caves. There was the steadily widening rift
with Tamar--Tamar whose only flaw was his stiff-necked pride in lineage
and noble blood--Tamar, who was his closest friend, his almost constant
companion since boyhood. Together they had learned the arts of hunting
and fighting, together they had served as fellow officers in Jaltor's
armies, together they had crossed those interminable stretches of
jungle, plain and mountain between Ammad and far-off Sephar. Could he
afford to risk an almost certain break with Tamar by pursuing further
his mad infatuation for the missing cave girl?
There was another complication, too--one leaving him open for
repercussions even more unpleasant than the loss of a friend. There was
no doubt in his mind but that the Princess Alurna was in love with him.
He knew that in the eyes of his family and friends she would make any
man a mate to be proud of. From the standpoint of beauty alone she was
almost as lovely as Dylara. More than that, however, Alurna was the
niece of Jaltor, monarch of all Ammad and a personal friend of Jotan's
own father. Jotan shuddered slightly. He could well imagine Jaltor's
reaction upon learning that the daughter of his dead brother had been
spurned in favor of a half-wild woman of the caves!
And then the lithe, softly curved body of Dylara came unbidden before
his mind's eye ... and all else was forgotten. He rose stiffly from
where he sat among his friends, conscious from their expressions that
they knew he had arrived at a decision affecting them all.
"When the dawn comes," he said in a strangely toneless voice, "we break
camp and continue on toward Ammad. Not all of us will go on, however. A
few warriors shall accompany me in search of Dylara ... and I shall not
return without her!"
[Illustration: Hers was the beauty famous across half a world]