MUSWANI--MONSTER-FIGHTER.
AY, Megalosaurus! One of the most terrible of the monstrous reptiles
which roamed the prehistoric forests of our globe. Often had Mervyn
described this fearful brute in his lectures on the subject; often had
his students listened open-mouthed to his vivid word-pictures of this
and other monsters of the same period; but never did he think to come
face to face with the creature, to stand in peril of his life from its
fury.
For a moment the brute remained glaring upon its victims, then,
giving voice once more to its fear-inspiring cry, it lurched forward
from the shelter of the fungi and stood revealed in all its diabolical
horror. Terror-stricken as they were, the adventurers gazed with a
kind of fascination upon the reptile. There was something so devilish
about him as he stood there in the full glare of the fungi, the scaly
plates of his hide shimmering like a silver sea with every move he
made, and his sabre-like teeth gnashing with fury, that they could do
naught but stare. Not one could lift a weapon, save the Ayuti. He
alone had not succumbed to the paralysing fascination of the
creature.
Moving upon his huge hind legs, his short fore-limbs held
kangaroo-wise before him, the saurian shambled through the quarry
entrance, the Ayuti, watching keenly for a chance to attack,
retreating before him.
“We’re done,” Seymour groaned; “of what use are spears against
such a brute? Great Heaven! be careful!”
Forgetting for an instant that he did not understand English, the
baronet addressed the warning to Chenobi, who had leapt forward to
slash with his great axe at the saurian’s side. He sprang back only
just in time to escape the great teeth, which snapped within a
hair’s-breadth of his uplifted arm, having gained nothing by his
effort.
“This is horrible!” Mervyn cried, “waiting here for death. Can we
do nothing against the brute?”
His question was answered in an unexpected manner. With a furious
bellow the great elk leapt forward, pawed the ground for an instant,
then launched himself like a thunderbolt upon the monstrous reptile.
Utterly unprepared for this attack, the latter swerved in his advance,
attempting to avoid the advancing elk. But Muswani was too quick for
him. With a shock that flung him back upon his haunches, his antlers
struck the saurian’s scaly hide, and the huge brute staggered beneath
the blow. Ere he could recover, the elk had leapt out of reach and
stood pawing the ground, preparatory to another charge.
“Be ready,” Chenobi cried eagerly, gripping the handle of his
great weapon; “if Muswani should overthrow the beast, then we will
speedily make an end of him.”
The fury of the megalosaurus was now directed against the elk,
who, with all the cunning of an old warrior, was prancing about his
enemy, seeking to draw him on to attack. And he succeeded, for
suddenly, with a movement so swift that eye could scarce follow it,
the reptile’s claw-armed fore-limb lashed out.
With a nimble leap Muswani evaded the stroke, charging in an
instant later upon his adversary. The shock of the meeting rang like a
thunderclap through the quarry, and the great saurian, reeling from
the impact, lurched over upon his side, exposing his only vulnerable
part, the belly.
[Illustration: “THE GREAT SAURIAN REELING FROM THE IMPACT,
LURCHED OVER UPON HIS SIDE” (_p. 175._)]
“Now!” cried Chenobi, and leapt forward. Gripping their weapons
firmly, his comrades advanced to complete the work which the elk had
begun. But Muswani was before them. While yet the reptile strove to
rise, the king’s gallant steed hurled itself again upon him, the
terrible antlers tearing deep into the monster’s vitals. A scream of
agony burst from the huge brute’s throat, and he grabbed savagely at
his agile enemy with his sickle-like claws. At that moment Chenobi’s
axe swept downward, almost severing the monster’s left fore-limb,
while the adventurers, rushing in, plunged their spears deep into his
gleaming white belly.
“Back!” hissed the Ayuti, and retreated swiftly.
’Twas well the others followed his advice so promptly, or
assuredly one or other of them would have been crushed; for, rearing
upward to its full height in the agony of its death struggle, the
megalosaurus pitched over with a crash, driving the spears to their
full length into its vitals.
Madly he thrashed the ground with his great tail, as he rolled
from side to side in the bloody pool already forming round him,
keeping up the while a hoarse scream which told how sorely he was
stricken.
The great hounds were mad with excitement; indeed, Chenobi had
the greatest difficulty in keeping them away from the dying monster.
All through the combat they had been restless, snarling, and baring
their great fangs, as they raced to and fro behind their master. His
word alone had prevented them from hurling themselves to certain
destruction against the saurian’s claws; but now, with the smell of
blood in their nostrils, their lust to kill proved too much for their
obedience. With their lean flanks palpitating with eagerness, the
whole four bounded, swift as light, across the quarry, and leapt for
the monster’s throat. A hoarse command from the king they did not
heed, although twice repeated, and for this disobedience one of the
four paid dearly.
As he sprang the reptile’s jaws opened, and, with a sickening
crunch, the great teeth closed upon the hapless hound’s skull. A
moment later the lifeless carcase of Chenobi’s pet was flung almost at
his master’s feet.
But it was the saurian’s last effort. One great choking gasp he
gave, a torrent of blood poured from his nostrils, then he plunged
heavily forward, almost crushing the three hounds, hanging like grim
death to his throat.
“Thank God!” Mervyn cried, “we have been marvellously delivered.
Chenobi”--turning to the Ayuti--“your steed has saved
us.”
“Muswani is an old fighter,” the king replied, striding over to
the elk, who had retired into the background again after overthrowing
the reptile. He patted the brute’s glossy hide and murmured words of
endearment into its ears, which Muswani seemed perfectly to
understand.
“I guess the old elk’s a stayer,” remarked Silas; “we’d ha’ been
in a real tight corner but for him. Say, Mervyn, what do you think of
the beastie yonder?”
“Horrible!” returned the scientist with a shudder. “The brute’s
far worse than Triceratops, for it’s a wholly carnivorous feeder.”
“I assume we were down on its bill of fare, then?” asked the
Yankee, moving forward to examine the carcase, at which the hounds
were still tearing.
“Nothing would come amiss to the brute,” Mervyn assented,
producing his note-book and pencil.
“H’m,” Haverly remarked, as he surveyed the dead monster, “a
fairish-sized sort of tadpole. Fifty foot from nose to tail, and
perhaps a bit over. Say, William, come and have a look at your uncle.
You an’ Wilson are mighty quiet over there.”
“I’ve seen as much of the brute as I want,” Seymour replied as he
joined the American. “If there’s many more of his sort in the jungle,
some of us will lose the numbers of our mess before long.”
“He’s done us out of our weapons, anyway,” growled Silas;
“there’s no heaving him over to pull ’em out. After all, a spear’s
kinder handy if you prick ’em in the right place. Sort of touches the
spot, you know.”
“What’s to be the next move?” asked the engineer.
“Wal, I guess this outfit’s earned a rest. The present ’ud be a
suitable occasion for a feed. Mervyn’s got enough to keep him on the
trot for a while, an’ we might as well improve the passing hour.
William, perhaps you’ll oblige by informing Chenobi as it’s
dinner-time.”
Smiling at Haverly’s quaint speech, the baronet complied with his
request; and there, but a few yards from the carcase of the
megalosaurus, the explorers made a hearty meal. The Ayuti, despite the
loss of his hound, was in high spirits. He had never dreamt that they
should be able to slay the monster, his only motive in entering the
quarry being to escape the notice of the brute if possible; but,
having scented them, the saurian invaded their refuge, with the result
already recorded.
But for Muswani, the affair would have had a vastly different
ending!
For the greater part of two hours they rested, the professor
obtaining from Chenobi a whole budget of information respecting the
quarry. He learnt, among other things, that at one time a great stone
causeway had connected the quarry with the subterranean city, along
which the blocks had been conveyed on stone trucks. By the gradual
sinking of the swampy ground, over which it was laid, the causeway had
been engulfed, and now not a vestige remained. Gladly would Mervyn
have remained longer in the quarry, amid the relics of a dead race,
but his comrades were anxious to move on, and so, giving way to their
desires, he prepared to leave the spot which had so nearly proved the
scene of their destruction.
“It’s a bit risky without weapons,” Haverly said, as they plunged
once more into the jungle, “but I guess we’ll have to manage. ‘Tread
lightly’s’ the word, and keep your weather eyes lifting for
beetles.”
However Chenobi could find his way amid the tangled growths of
the jungle the adventurers could not imagine. He had no compass to
consult, and he had not the light of the heavenly bodies by which to
steer. Yet he never hesitated for one moment, guiding his antlered
steed as though perfectly familiar with the route.
Mervyn, perched behind him, pored over his notes, and several
times came within an ace of being swept from his seat by the branching
arms of the fungi giants on either side, the Ayuti avoiding these by
bending low over his mount. The journey seemed terribly long to the
three on foot. The glistening monotony of the eternal fungi wearied
their eyes. Talk, save in whispers, they dared not, lest they should
rouse another of the jungle beasts, perhaps even more terrible than
the megalosaurus. Their entirely unarmed condition made them
apprehensive almost to fearfulness. But, for all the sound that
reached them, the whole underworld might have been without
inhabitant.
Suddenly Chenobi checked his steed, raising his hand as a warning
to his friends. Wondering what new peril threatened, the three moved
cautiously alongside the elk. Parting the fungi, they peered through.
Before them lay a clearing--an open space of some sixty square
yards in area. At first sight it appeared to be empty, but in a few
seconds they became aware of the presence of a monstrous black shape,
sharply outlined against the glistening wall of the encircling jungle.
Ere they could observe more, the hounds, who had been trailing at
heel, burst into a savage bay, and broke through the fungi. Only a
glimpse the explorers had of a huge, hairy body which lumbered
awkwardly into the shelter of the jungle, with the hounds snarling at
its heels, but it sufficed for the professor.
“Megatherium!” he yelled in amazement, “the giant sloth!”
With a bound he leapt from his seat and darted across the
clearing; but sloth and hounds had already vanished, the latter in
full cry.
“Call your brutes off,” Mervyn cried to the king, as he forced
his steed into the clearing; “the creature’s perfectly harmless, and
it seems a shame for the dogs to worry it.”
A piercing call rang from the Ayuti’s lips, the baying ceased as
though by magic, and ere long the hounds slid out of the undergrowth,
panting from their fruitless chase.
“It is unfortunate that the creature disappeared so quickly,”
muttered the scientist. “I had not time to make a proper observation,
but its presence here appears to me to imply that the monsters of
prehistoric days are far from extinct. Were we to make a thorough
search, I do not doubt that we should find representatives of all the
tribes of vast creatures which once inhabited the upper world.”
“Except the birds,” retorted Seymour; “as yet we have seen no
trace of them, which seems rather remarkable since, according to Maori
tradition, the moa birds were existent in New Zealand up to the end of
the seventeenth century.”
“It don’t seem extra remarkable,” put in Haverly, “when you
reckon megalosaurus as an item on the programme. Seems to me as a
bird, however large, ’ud stand a poor chance against him. What’s your
idea, professor?”
“The same,” returned the scientist; “but we have not yet learned
that they are non-existent. However, I will question Chenobi on the
subject. It may be that he can enlighten us.”
But the king could supply no information as to the existence of
giant birds, although Mervyn helped out his explanation with the aid
of a rough sketch. If there were any such, they were unknown to
him.
“We must keep our eyes open,” Mervyn remarked, after
communicating the Ayuti’s answer to his friends. “I have great hope
that we shall yet come across one,” and, with that, the interrupted
journey was resumed.
For a full hour they moved forward, then the jungle ended.
Bursting through the last few scattered growths, they emerged upon the
shore of a vast lake.
Strangely weird it looked, slumbering there in the twilight, with
the fungi-gleam lighting up its waters for a few yards from shore.
“Do we go round?” Seymour asked, turning to the Ayuti.
“Nay,” was the reply, “there is a boat,” and, dismounting, he
began to search amid the fungi close by. Soon his efforts were
rewarded. From the shelter of a clump, some ten feet from the water’s
edge, he dragged a boat--the most curious the explorers had ever
seen. In shape like an Indian bark canoe, it was made of the skin of
some animal, stretched tightly over a framework of bones. Despite the
long years it must have lain in disuse, it was still serviceable,
riding the water like a cork when launched.
“Enter!” Chenobi said; “I will ride round upon Muswani, and will
meet ye upon the further side. ’Tis a straight course, and there is no
danger.”
Leaping to his seat, he called up the hounds; then, with a wave
of the hand, he galloped swiftly along the shore. Soon he vanished
from view, the sound of Muswani’s hoofs died away, and at that the
adventurers entered their strange craft.
Each grasping one of the bone paddles which lay in the bottom of
the boat, Silas and the baronet struck off with quick, powerful
strokes. Within a few moments their tiny craft was swallowed up in the
gloom that veiled the lake.