were commencing to feel the urge to sleep Tanar discovered a small deer
in a game trail beneath them, and making his kill the two satisfied
their hunger, and then with small branches and great leaves Tanar
constructed a platform in a tree—a narrow couch, where Stellara lay down
to sleep while he stood guard, and after she had slept he slept, and
then once more they resumed their flight.
Strengthened and refreshed by food and sleep they renewed their journey
in higher spirits and greater hopefulness. The village of Lar lay far
behind and since they had left it they had seen no other village nor any
sign of man.
While Stellara had slept Tanar had busied himself in fashioning crude
weapons against the time when he might find proper materials for the
making of better ones. A slender branch of hard wood, gnawed to a point
by his strong, white teeth, must answer him for a spear. His bow was
constructed of another branch and strung with tendons taken from the
deer he had killed, while his arrows were slender shoots cut from a
tough shrub that grew plentifully throughout the forest. He fashioned a
second, lighter spear for Stellara, and thus armed each felt a sense of
security that had been entirely wanting before.
On and on they went, three times they ate and once again they slept, and
still they had not reached the seacoast.
The great sun hung overhead; a gentle, cooling breeze moved through the
forest; birds of gorgeous plumage and little monkeys unknown to the
outer world flew or scampered, sang or chattered as the man and the
woman disturbed them in their passage. It was a peaceful world and to
Tanar, accustomed to the savage, carnivorous beasts that overran the
great mainland of his birth, it seemed a very safe and colorless world;
yet he was content that nothing was interfering with their progress
toward escape.
Stellara had said no more about desiring to return to Korsar and the
plan that always hovered among his thoughts included taking Stellara
back to Sari with him.
The peaceful trend of Tanar’s thoughts was suddenly shattered by the
sound of shrill trumpeting. So close it sounded that it might almost
have been directly beneath him, and an instant later as he parted the
foliage ahead of him he saw the cause of the disturbance.
The jungle ended here upon the edge of open meadowland that was dotted
with small clumps of trees. In the foreground there were two figures—a
warrior fleeing for his life and behind him a huge tandor, which, though
going upon three legs, was sure soon to overtake the man.
Tanar took the entire scene in at a glance and was aware that here was a
lone tandor hunter who had failed to hamstring his prey in both hind
legs.
It is seldom that man hunts the great tandor single-handed and only the
bravest or the most rash would essay to do so. Ordinarily there are
several hunters, two of whom are armed with heavy, stone axes. While the
others make a noise to attract the attention of the tandor and hide the
sound of the approach of the axe men, the latter creep cautiously
through the underbrush from the rear of the great animal until each is
within striking distance of a hind leg. Then simultaneously they
hamstring the monster, which, lying helpless, they dispatch with heavy
spears and arrows.
He who would alone hamstring a tandor must be endowed not only with
great strength and courage, but must be able to strike two unerring
blows with his axe in such rapid succession that the beast is crippled
almost before it realizes that it has been attacked.
It was evident to Tanar that this hunter had failed to get in his second
blow quickly enough and now he was at the mercy of the great beast.
Since they had started upon their flight through the trees Stellara had
overcome her fear and was now able to travel alone with only occasional
assistance from Tanar. She had been following the Sarian and now she
stood at his side, watching the tragedy being enacted below them.
“He will be killed,” she cried. “Can we not save him?”
This thought had not occurred to Tanar, for was the man not an
Amiocapian and an enemy; but there was something in the girl’s tone that
spurred the Sarian to action. Perhaps it was the instinct in the male to
exhibit his prowess before the female. Perhaps it was because at heart
Tanar was brave and magnanimous, or perhaps it was because that among
all the other women in the world it was Stellara who had spoken. Who may
know? Perhaps Tanar did not know himself what prompted his next act.
Shouting a word that is familiar to all tandor hunters and which is most
nearly translatable into English as “Reverse!” he leaped to the ground
almost at the side of the charging tandor and simultaneously he carried
his spear hand back and drove the heavy shaft deep into the beast’s
side, just behind its left shoulder. Then he leaped back into the forest
expecting that the tandor would do precisely what it did do.
With a squeal of pain it turned upon its new tormentor.
The Amiocapian, who still clung to his heavy axe, had heard, as though
it was a miracle from the gods, the familiar signal that had burst so
suddenly from Tanar’s lips. It had told him what the other would attempt
and he was ready, with the result that he turned back toward the beast
at the instant that it wheeled to charge after Tanar, and as it crashed
into the undergrowth of the jungle in pursuit of the Sarian the
Amiocapian overtook it. The great axe moved swiftly as lightning and the
huge beast, trumpeting with rage, sank helplessly to the ground and
rolled over on its side.
“Down!” shouted the Amiocapian, to advise Tanar that the attack had been
successful.
The Sarian returned and together the two warriors dispatched the great
beast, while above them Stellara remained among the concealing verdure
of the trees, for the women of Pellucidar do not rashly expose
themselves to view of enemy warriors. In this instance she knew that it
would be safer to wait and discover the attitude of the Amiocapian
toward Tanar. Perhaps he would be grateful and friendly, but there was
the possibility that he might not.
The beast dispatched, the two men faced one another. “Who are you,”
demanded the Amiocapian, “who came so bravely to the rescue of a
stranger? I do not recognize you. You are not of Amiocap.”
“My name is Tanar and I am from the kingdom of Sari, that lies far away
on the distant mainland. I was captured by the Korsars, who invaded the
empire of which Sari is a part. They were taking me and other prisoners
back to Korsar when the fleet was overtaken by a terrific storm and the
ship upon which I was confined was so disabled that it was deserted by
its crew. Drifting helplessly with the wind and current it finally bore
us to the shores of Amiocap, where we were captured by warriors from the
village of Lar. They did not believe our story, but thought that we were
Korsars and they were about to destroy us when we succeeded in making
our escape.
“If you do not believe me,” continued the Sarian, “then one of us must
die for under no circumstances will we return to Lar to be burned at the
stake.”
“Whether I believe you or not,” replied the Amiocapian, “I should be
beneath the contempt of all men were I to permit any harm to befall one
who has just saved my life at the risk of his own.”
“Very well,” said Tanar. “We shall go our way in the knowledge that you
will not reveal our whereabouts to the men of the village of Lar.”
“You say ‘we,’” said the Amiocapian. “You are not alone then?”
“No, there is another with me,” replied Tanar.
“Perhaps I can help you,” said the Amiocapian. “It is my duty to do so.
In what direction are you going and how do you plan to escape from
Amiocap?”
“We are seeking the coast where we hope to be able to build a craft and
to cross the ocean to the mainland.”
The Amiocapian shook his head. “That will be difficult,” he said. “Nay,
impossible.”
“We may only make the attempt,” said Tanar, “for it is evident that we
cannot remain here among the people of Amiocap, who will not believe
that we are not Korsars.”
“You do not look at all like the Korsars,” said the warrior. “Where is
your companion? Does he look like one?”
“My companion is a woman,” replied Tanar.
“If she looks no more like a Korsar than you, then it were easy to
believe your story and, I, for one, am willing to believe it and willing
to help you. There are other villages upon Amiocap than Lar and other
chiefs than Zural. We are all bitter against the Korsars, but we are not
all blinded by our hate as is Zural. Fetch your companion and if she
does not appear to be a Korsar, I will take you to my own village and
see that you are well treated. If I am in doubt I will permit you to go
your way; nor shall I mention the fact to others that I have seen you.”
“That is fair enough,” said Tanar, and then, turning, he called to the
girl. “Come, Stellara! Here is a warrior who would see if you are a
Korsar.”
The girl dropped lightly to the ground from the branches of the tree
above the two men.
As the eyes of the Amiocapian fell upon her he stepped back with an
exclamation of shock and surprise.
“Gods of Amiocap!” he cried. “Allara!”
The two looked at him in amazement. “No, not Allara,” said Tanar, “but
Stellara, her daughter. Who are you that you should so quickly recognize
the likeness?”
“I am Fedol,” said the man, “and Allara was my mate.”
“Then this is your daughter, Fedol,” said Tanar.
The warrior shook his head, sadly. “No,” he said, “I can believe that
she is the daughter of Allara, but her father must have been a Korsar
for Allara was stolen from me by the men of Korsar. She is a Korsar and
though my heart urges me to accept her as my daughter, the customs of
Amiocap forbid. Go your way in peace. If I can protect you I shall, but
I cannot accept you, or take you to my village.”
Stellara came close to Fedol, her eyes searching the tan skin upon his
left shoulder. “You are Fedol,” she said, pointing to the red birthmark
upon his skin, “and here is the proof that my mother gave me,
transmitted to me through your blood, that I am the daughter of Fedol,”
and she turned her left shoulder to him, and there lay upon the white
skin a small, round, red mark identical with that upon the left shoulder
of the Amiocapian.
For a moment Fedol stood spellbound, his eyes fixed upon Stellara’s
shoulder and then he took her into his arms and held her closely.
“My daughter!” he murmured. “Allara come back to me in the blood of our
blood and the flesh of our flesh!”
VI
THE ISLAND OF LOVE
The noonday sun of Pellucidar shone down upon a happy trio as Fedol
guided Stellara and Tanar towards the village of Paraht, where he ruled
as chief.
“Will they receive us there as friends,” asked Stellara, “or will they
wish to destroy us as did the men of Lar?”
“I am chief,” said Fedol. “Even if they questioned you, they will do as
I command, but there will be no question for the proof is beyond dispute
and they will accept you as the daughter of Fedol and Allara, as I have
accepted you.”
“And Tanar?” asked Stellara, “will you protect him, too?”
“Your word is sufficient that he is not a Korsar,” replied Fedol. “He
may remain with us as long as he wishes.”
“What will Zural think of this?” asked Tanar. “He has condemned us to
die. Will he not insist that the sentence be carried out?”
“Seldom do the villagers of Amiocap war one against the other,” replied
Fedol; “but if Zural wishes war he shall have it ere ever I shall give
up you or my daughter to the burning stake of Lar.”
Great was the rejoicing when the people of Paraht saw their chief, whom
they had thought lost to them forever, returning. They clustered about
him with glad cries of welcome, which were suddenly stilled by loud
shouts of “The Korsars! The Korsars!” as the eyes of some of the people
alighted upon Tanar and Stellara.
“Who cried ‘Korsars’?” demanded Fedol. “What know you of these people?”
“I know them,” replied a tall warrior. “I am from Lar. There are six
others with me and we have been searching for these Korsars, who escaped
just before they were to have been burned at the stake. We will take
them back with us and Zural will rejoice that you have captured them.”
“You will take them nowhere,” said Fedol. “They are not Korsars. This
one,” and he placed a hand upon Stellara’s shoulder, “is my daughter,
and the man is a warrior from distant Sari. He is the son of the king of
that country, which lies far away upon a mainland unknown to us.”
“They told that same story to Zural,” said the warrior from Lar; “but we
did not believe them. None of us believed them. I was with Vulhan and
his party when we took them from the Korsar ship that brought them to
Amiocap.”
“At first I did not believe them,” said Fedol, “but Stellara convinced
me that she is my daughter, just as I can convince you of the truth of
her statement.”
“How?” demanded the warrior.
“By the birthmark on my left shoulder,” replied Fedol. “Look at it, and
then compare it with the one upon her left shoulder. No one who knew
Allara can doubt that Stellara is her daughter, so closely does the girl
resemble her mother, and being Allara’s daughter how could she inherit
the birthmark upon her left shoulder from any other sire than me?”
The warriors from Lar scratched their heads. “It would seem the best of
proof,” replied the warriors’ spokesman.
“It is the best of proof,” said Fedol. “It is all that I need. It is all
the people of Paraht need. Take the word to Zural and the people of Lar
and I believe that they will accept my daughter and Tanar as we are
accepting them, and I believe that they will be willing to protect them
as we intend to protect them from all enemies, whether from Amiocap or
elsewhere.”
“I shall take your message to Zural,” replied the warrior, and shortly
afterward they departed on the trail toward Lar.
Fedol prepared a room in his house for Stellara and assigned Tanar to a
large building that was occupied solely by bachelors.
Plans were made for a great feast to celebrate the coming of Stellara
and a hundred men were dispatched to fetch the ivory and the meat of the
tandor that Fedol and Tanar had slain.
Fedol decked Stellara with ornaments of bone and ivory and gold. She
wore the softest furs and the gorgeous plumage of rare birds. The people
of Paraht loved her and Stellara was happy.
Tanar was accepted at first by the men of the tribe with some
reservations, not untinged with suspicion. He was their guest by the
order of their chief and they treated him as such, but presently, when
they came to know him and particularly after he had hunted with them,
they liked him for himself and made him one of them.
The Amiocapians were, at first, an enigma to Tanar. Their tribal life
and all their customs were based primarily upon love and kindness. Harsh
words, bickering and scolding were practically unknown among them. These
attributes of the softer side of man appeared at first weak and
effeminate to the Sarian, but when he found them combined with great
strength and rare courage his admiration for the Amiocapians knew no
bounds, and he soon recognized in their attitude toward one another and
toward life a philosophy that he hoped he might make clear to his own
Sarians.
The Amiocapians considered love the most sacred of the gifts of the
gods, and the greatest power for good and they practiced liberty of love
without license. So that while they were not held in slavery by
senseless man-made laws that denied the laws of God and nature, yet they
were pure and virtuous to a degree beyond that which he had known in any
other people.
With hunting and dancing and feasting, with tests of skill and strength
in which the men of Amiocap contended in friendly rivalry, life for
Stellara and Tanar was ideally happy.
Less and less often did the Sarian think of Sari. Sometime he would
build a boat and return to his native country, but there was no hurry;
he would wait, and gradually even that thought faded almost entirely
from his mind. He and Stellara were often together. They found a measure
of happiness and contentment in one another’s society that was lacking
at other times or with other people. Tanar had never spoken of love.
Perhaps he had not thought of love for it seemed that he was always
engaged upon some enterprise of the hunt, or contending in some of the
sports and games of the men. His body and his mind were occupied—a
condition which sometimes excludes thoughts of love, but wherever he
went or whatever he did the face and figure of Stellara hovered ever in
the background of his thoughts.
Without realizing it, perhaps, his every thought, his every act was
influenced by the sweet loveliness of the chief’s daughter. Her
friendship he took for granted and it gave him great happiness, but yet
he did not speak of love. But Stellara was a woman, and women live on
love.
In the village of Paraht she saw the girls openly avowing their love to
men, but she was still bound by the customs of Korsar and it would have
been impossible for her to bring herself to tell a man that she loved
him until he had avowed his love. And so hearing no word of love from
Tanar, she was content with his friendship. Perhaps she, too, had given
no more thought to the matter of love than he.
But there was another who did harbor thoughts of love. It was Doval, the
Adonis of Paraht. In all Amiocap there was no handsomer youth than
Doval. Many were the girls who had avowed their love to him, but his
heart had been unmoved until he looked upon Stellara.
Doval came often to the house of Fedol the chief. He brought presents of
skin and ivory and bone to Stellara and they were much together. Tanar
saw and he was troubled, but why he was troubled he did not know.
The people of Paraht had eaten and slept many times since the coming of
Tanar and Stellara and as yet no word had come from Zural, or the
village of Lar, in answer to the message that Fedol had sent, but now,
at last, there entered the village a party of warriors from Lar, and
Fedol, sitting upon the chief’s chair, received them in the tiled living
room of his home.
“Welcome, men of Lar,” said the chief. “Fedol welcomes you to the
village of Paraht and awaits with impatience the message that you bring
him from his friend, Zural the chief.”
“We come from Zural and the people of Lar,” said the spokesman, “with a
message of friendship for Fedol and Paraht. Zural, our chief, has
commanded us to express to you his deep sorrow for the unintentional
wrong that he did your daughter and the warrior from Sari. He is
convinced that Stellara is your daughter and that the man is no Korsar
if you are convinced of these facts, and he has sent presents to them
and to you and with these presents an invitation for you to visit the
village of Lar and bring Stellara and Tanar with you that Zural and his
people may make amends for the wrong that they unwittingly did them.”
Fedol and Tanar and Stellara accepted the proffered friendship of Zural
and his people, and a feast was prepared in honor of the visitors.
While these preparations were in progress a girl entered the village
from the jungle. She was a dark-haired girl of extraordinary beauty. Her
soft skin was scratched and soiled as from a long journey. Her hair was
disheveled, but her eyes were bright with happiness and her teeth
gleamed from between lips that were parted in a smile of triumph and
expectation.
She made her way directly through the village to the house of Fedol and
when the warriors of Lar descried her they exclaimed with astonishment.
“Letari!” cried one of them. “Where did you come from? What are you
doing in the village of Paraht?”
But Letari did not answer. Instead she walked directly to where Tanar
stood and halted before him.
“I have come to you,” she said. “I have died many a death from
loneliness and sorrow since you ran away from the village of Lar, and
when the warriors returned and said that you were safe in the village of
Paraht I determined to come here. And so when Zural sent these warriors
to bear his message to Fedol I followed them. The way has been hard and
though I kept close behind them there were many times when wild beasts
menaced me and I feared that I should never reach you, but at last I am
here.”
“But why have you come?” demanded Tanar.
“Because I love you,” replied Letari. “Before the men of Lar and all the
people of Paraht I proclaim my love.”
Tanar flushed. In all his life he had never been in so embarrassing a
position. All eyes were turned upon him and among them were the eyes of
Stellara.
“Well?” demanded Fedol, looking at Tanar.
“The girl is mad,” said the Sarian. “She cannot love me for she scarcely
knows me. She never spoke to me but once before and that was when she
brought food to Stellara and me when we were prisoners in the village of
Lar.”
“I am not mad,” said Letari. “I love you.”
“Will you have her?” asked Fedol.
“I do not love her,” said Tanar.
“We will take her back to the village of Lar with us when we go,” said
one of the warriors.
“I shall not go,” cried Letari. “I love him and I shall stay here
forever.”
The girl’s declaration of love for Tanar seemed not to surprise any one
but the Sarian. It aroused little comment and no ridicule. The
Amiocapians, with the possible exception of Stellara, took it as a
matter of course. It was the most natural thing in the world for the
people of this island of love to declare themselves publicly in matters
pertaining to their hearts or to their passions.
That the general effect of such a policy was not nor never had been
detrimental to the people as a race was evident by their high
intelligence, the perfection of their physique, their great beauty and
their unquestioned courage. Perhaps the opposite custom, which has
prevailed among most of the people of the outer crust for so many ages,
is responsible for the unnumbered millions of unhappy human beings who
are warped or twisted mentally, morally or physically.
But with such matters the mind of Letari was not concerned. It was not
troubled by any consideration of posterity. All she thought of was that
she loved the handsome stranger from Sari and that she wanted to be near
him. She came close to him and looked up into his face.
“Why do you not love me?” she asked. “Am I not beautiful?”
“Yes, you are very beautiful,” he said; “but no one can explain love,
least of all I. Perhaps there are qualities of mind and character—things
that we can neither see nor feel nor hear—that draw one heart forever to
another.”
“But I am drawn to you,” said the girl. “Why are not you attracted to
me?”
Tanar shook his head for he did not know. He wished that the girl would
go away and leave him alone for she made him feel uneasy and restless
and entirely uncomfortable, but Letari had no idea of leaving him alone.
She was near him and there she intended to stay until they dragged her
away and took her back to Lar, if they were successful in so doing, but
she had determined in her little head that she should run away from them
at the first opportunity and hide in the jungle until she could return
to Paraht and Tanar.
“Will you talk to me?” she asked. “Perhaps if you talk to me you will
love me.”
“I will talk to you,” said Tanar, “but I shall not love you.”
“Let us walk a little way from these people where we may talk,” she
said.
“Very well,” said Tanar. He was only too anxious himself to get away
where he might hide his embarrassment.
Letari led the way down the village street, her soft arm brushing his.
“I should be a good mate,” she said, “for I should love only you, and
if, after a while, you did not like me you could send me away for that
is one of the customs of Amiocap—that when one of two people ceases to
love they shall no longer be mates.”
“But they do not become mates unless they both love,” insisted Tanar.
“That is true,” admitted Letari, “but presently you shall love me. I
know that, for all men love me. I could have for my mate any man in Lar
that I choose.”
“You do not feel unkindly towards yourself,” said Tanar, with a grin.
“Why should I?” asked Letari. “Am I not beautiful and young?”
Stellara watched Tanar and Letari walking down the village street. She
saw how close together they walked and it seemed that Tanar was very
much interested in what Letari had to say to him. Doval was standing at
her side. She turned to him.
“It is noisy here,” she said. “There are too many people. Walk with me
to the end of the village.”
It was the first time that Stellara had ever indicated a desire to be
alone with him and Doval felt a strange thrill of elation. “I will walk
with you to the end of the village, Stellara, or to the end of
Pellucidar, forever, because I love you,” he said.
The girl sighed and shook her head. “Do not talk about love,” she
begged. “I merely wish to walk and there is no one else here to walk
with me.”