claimed his attention, recalled him momentarily from the obsession of
his sorrow and his rage so that he turned a quick, scowling glance in
the direction from which the interruption had come, and there, not ten
paces from him, loomed the snarling face of a great tarag.
The fangs of the saber-tooth gleamed in the sunlight; the furry snout
was wrinkled in a snarl of anger; the lashing tail came suddenly to
rest, except for a slight convulsive twitching of its tip; the beast
crouched and Tanar knew that it was about to charge.
Unarmed and single-handed as he was, the man seemed easy prey for the
carnivore; nor to right nor to left was there any avenue of escape.
All these things passed swiftly through the mind of the Sarian, yet
never did they totally obliterate the memory of the two figures in the
canoe far out at sea behind him; nor of the cliff overhanging the waters
of the cove beneath. And then the tarag charged.
A hideous scream broke from the savage throat as the great beast hurled
itself forward with lightning-like rapidity. Two great bounds it took,
and in mid-spring of the second Tanar turned and dove head foremost over
the edge of the cliff, for the only alternative that remained to him was
death beneath the rending fangs and talons of the sabertooth.
For all he knew jagged rocks might lie just beneath the surface of the
water, but there was one chance that the water was deep, while no chance
for life remained to him upon the cliff top.
The momentum of the great cat’s spring, unchecked by the body of his
expected prey, carried him over the edge of the cliff also so that man
and beast hurtled downward almost side by side to the water far below.
Tanar cut the water cleanly with extended hands and turning quickly
upwards came to the surface scarcely a yard from where the great cat had
alighted.
The two faced one another and at sight of the man the tarag burst again
into hideous screams and struck out swiftly toward him.
Tanar knew that he might outdistance the tarag in the water, but at the
moment that they reached the beach he would be at the mercy of the great
carnivore. The snarling face was close to his; the great talons were
reaching for him as Tanar of Pellucidar dove beneath the beast.
A few, swift strokes brought him up directly behind the cat and an
instant later he had reached out and seized the furry hide. The tarag
turned swiftly to strike at him, but already the man was upon his
shoulders and his weight was carrying the snarling face below the
surface.
Choking, struggling, the maddened animal sought to reach the soft flesh
of the man with his raking talons, but in the liquid element that filled
the sea its usual methods of offense and defense were worthless. Quickly
realizing that death stared it in the face, unless it could immediately
overcome this handicap, the tarag now strained its every muscle to reach
the solid footing of the land, while Tanar on his part sought to prevent
it. Now his fingers had crept from their hold upon the furry shoulders
down to the white furred throat and like claws of steel they sank into
the straining muscles.
No longer did the beast attempt to scream and the man, for his part,
fought in silence.
It was a grim duel; a terrible duel; a savage encounter that might be
enacted only in a world that was very young and between primitive
creatures who never give up the stern battle for life until the scythe
of the Grim Reaper has cut them down.
Deep into the gloomy cavern, beneath the cliff the tarag battled for the
tiny strip of beach at the far end and grimly the man fought to hold it
back and force its head beneath the water. He felt the efforts of the
beast weakening and yet they were very close to the beach. At any
instant the great claws might strike bottom and Tanar knew that there
was still left within that giant carcass enough vitality to rend him to
shreds if ever the tarag got four feet on solid ground and his head
above the water.
With a last supreme effort he tightened his fingers upon the throat of
the tarag and sliding from its back sought to drag it from its course,
and the animal upon its part made one, last supreme effort for life. It
reared up in the water and wheeling about struck at the man. The raking
talons grazed his flesh, and then he was back upon the giant shoulders
forcing the head once more beneath the surface of the sea. He felt a
spasm pass through the great frame of the beast beneath him; the muscles
relaxed and the tarag floated up.
A moment later Tanar dragged himself to the pebbly beach, where he lay
panting from exhaustion.
Recovered, nor did it take him long to recover, so urgent were the
demands of the pursuit upon which he was engaged, Tanar rose and looked
about him. Before him were canoes, such as he had never seen before,
drawn up upon the narrow beach. Paddles lay in each of the canoes as
though they but awaited the early return of their owners. Whence they
had come and what they were doing here in this lonely cavern, Tanar
could not guess. They were unlike the canoes of the Amiocapians, which
fact convinced him that they belonged to a people from some other
island, or possibly from the mainland itself. But these were questions
which did not concern him greatly at the time. Here were canoes. Here
was the means of pursuing the two that he had seen far out at sea and
whom he was convinced were none other than Jude and Stellara.
Seizing one of the small craft he dragged it to the water’s edge and
launched it. Then, leaping into it, he paddled swiftly down the cove out
towards the sea, and as he paddled he had an opportunity to examine the
craft more closely.
It was evidently fashioned from a single log of very light wood and was
all of one piece, except a bulkhead at each end of the cockpit, which
was large enough to accommodate three men.
Rapping with his paddle upon the surface of the deck and upon the
bulkheads convinced him that the log had been entirely hollowed out
beneath the deck and as the bulkheads themselves gave every appearance
of having been so neatly fitted as to be watertight, Tanar guessed that
the canoe was unsinkable.
His attention was next attracted by a well-tanned and well-worn hide
lying in the bottom of the cockpit. A rawhide lacing ran around the
entire periphery of the hide and as he tried to determine the purpose to
which the whole had been put his eyes fell upon a series of cleats
extending entirely around the edge of the cockpit, and he guessed that
the hide was intended as a covering for it. Examining it more closely he
discovered an opening in it about the size of a man’s body and
immediately its purpose became apparent to him. With the covering in
place and laced tightly around the cockpit and also laced around the
man’s body the canoe could ship no water and might prove a seaworthy
craft, even in severe storms.
As the Sarian fully realized his limitations as a seafaring man, he lost
no time in availing himself of this added protection against the
elements, and when he had adjusted it and laced it tightly about the
outside of the cockpit and secured the lacing which ran around the
opening in the center of the hide about his own body, he experienced a
feeling of security that he had never before felt when he had been
forced to surrender himself to the unknown dangers of the sea.
Now he paddled rapidly in the direction in which he had last seen the
canoe with its two occupants, and when he had passed out of the cove
into the open sea he espied them again, but this time so far out that
the craft and its passengers appeared only as a single dot upon the
broad waters. But beyond them hazily loomed the bulk of the island that
Jude had pointed out as Hime and this tended to crystallize Tanar’s
assurance that the canoe ahead of him was being guided by Jude toward
the island of his own people.
The open seas of Pellucidar present obstacles to the navigation of a
small canoe that would seem insurmountable to men of the outer crust,
for their waters are ofttimes alive with saurian monsters of a long past
geologic epoch and it was encounters with these that the Sarian
mountaineer apprehended with more acute concern than consideration of
adverse wind or tempest aroused within him.
He had noticed that one end of the long paddle he wielded was tipped
with a piece of sharpened ivory from the end of a tandor’s tusk, but the
thing seemed an utterly futile weapon with which to combat a tandoraz or
an azdyryth, two of the mightiest and most fearsome inhabitants of the
deep, but as far as he could see ahead the long, oily swells of a calm
ocean were unruffled by marine life of any description.
Well aware of his small experience and great deficiency as a paddler,
Tanar held no expectation of being able to overhaul the canoe manned by
the experienced Jude. The best that he could hope was that he might keep
it in view until he could mark the spot upon Hime where it landed. And
once upon solid ground again, even though it was an island peopled by
enemies, the Sarian felt that he would be able to cope with any
emergency that might arise.
Gradually the outlines of Hime took definite shape before him while
those of Amiocap became correspondingly vague behind.
And between him and the island of Hime the little dot upon the surface
of the sea told him that his quarry had not as yet made land. The
pursuit seemed interminable. Hime seemed to be receding almost as
rapidly as he approached it. He became hungry and thirsty, but there was
neither food nor water. There was naught but to bend his paddle
ceaselessly through the monotonous grind of pursuit, but at length the
details of the shore-line grew more distinct, He saw coves and inlets
and wooded hills and then he saw the canoe that he was following
disappear far ahead of him beyond the entrance of a cove. Tanar marked
the spot well in his mind and redoubled his efforts to reach the shore.
And then fate arose in her inexorable perversity and confounded all his
hopes and plans.
A sudden flurry on the surface of the water far to his right gave him
his first warning. And then, like the hand of a giant, the wind caught
his frail craft and turned it at right angles to the course he wished to
pursue. The waves rolled; the wind shrieked; the storm was upon him in
great fury and there was naught to do but turn and flee before it.
Down the coast of Hime he raced, parallel to the shore, further and
further from the spot where Jude had landed with Stellara, but all the
time Tanar was striving to drive his craft closer and closer to the
wooded slopes of Hime.
Ahead of him, and upon his right, he could see what appeared to be the
end of the island. Should he be carried past this he realized that all
would be lost, for doubtless the storm would carry him on out of sight
of land and if it did he knew that he could never reach Hime nor return
to Amiocap, since he had no means whatsoever of ascertaining direction
once land slipped from view in the haze of the upcurving horizon.
Straining every muscle, continuously risking being capsized, Tanar
strove to drive inward toward the shore, and though he saw that he was
gaining he knew that it was too late, for already he was almost abreast
of the island’s extremity, and still he was a hundred yards off shore.
But even so he did not despair, or if he did despair he did not cease to
struggle for salvation.
He saw the island slip past him, but there was yet a chance for in its
lee he saw calm water and if he could reach that he would be saved.
Straining every muscle the Sarian bent to his crude paddle. Suddenly the
breeze stopped and he shot out into the smooth water in the lee of the
island, but he did not cease his strenuous efforts until the bow of the
canoe had touched the sand of Hime.
Tanar leaped out and dragged the craft ashore. That he should ever need
it again he doubted, yet he hid it beneath the foliage of nearby bushes,
and alone and unarmed set forth to face the dangers of an unknown
country in what appeared even to Tanar as an almost hopeless quest for
Stellara.
To the Sarian it seemed wisest to follow the coast-line back until he
found the spot at which Jude had landed and then trace his trail inland,
and this was the plan that he proceeded to follow.
Being in a strange land and, therefore, in a land of enemies, and being
unarmed, Tanar was forced to move with great caution; yet constantly he
sacrificed caution to speed. Natural obstacles impeded his progress. A
great cliff running far out into the sea barred his way and it was with
extreme difficulty that he found a path up the face of the frowning
escarpment and then only after traveling inland for a considerable
distance.
Beyond the summit rolled a broad table-land dotted with trees. A herd of
thags grazed quietly in the sunlight or dozed beneath the shadowy
foliage of the trees.
At sight of the man passing among them these great horned cattle became
restless. An old bull bellowed and pawed the ground, and Tanar measured
the distance to the nearest tree. But on he went, avoiding the beasts as
best he could and hoping against hope that he could pass them
successfully without further arousing their short tempers. But the
challenge of the old bull was being taken up by others of his sex until
a score of heavy shouldered mountains of beef were converging slowly
upon the lone man, stopping occasionally to paw or gore the ground,
while they bellowed forth their displeasure.
There was still a chance that he might pass them in safety. There was an
opening among them just ahead of him, and Tanar accelerated his speed,
but just at that instant one of the bulls took it into his head to
charge and then the whole twenty bore down upon the Sarian like a band
of iron locomotives suddenly endowed with the venom of hornets.
There was naught to do but seek the safety of the nearest tree and
towards this Tanar ran at full speed, while from all sides the angry
bulls raced to head him off.
With scarcely more than inches to spare Tanar swung himself into the
branches of the tree just as the leading bull passed beneath him. A
moment later the bellowing herd congregated beneath his sanctuary and
while some contented themselves with pawing and bellowing, others placed
their heavy heads against the bole of the tree and sought to push it
down, but fortunately for Tanar it was a young oak and it withstood
their sturdiest efforts.
But now, having treed him, the thags showed no disposition to leave him.
For a while they milled around beneath him and then several deliberately
lay down beneath the tree as though to prevent his escape.
To one accustomed to the daily recurrence of the darkness of night,
following the setting of the sun, escape from such a dilemma as that in
which Tanar found himself would have seemed merely a matter of waiting
for the coming of night, but where the sun does not set and there is no
night, and time is immeasurable and unmeasured, and where one may not
know whether a lifetime or a second has been encompassed by the duration
of such an event, the enforced idleness and delay are maddening.
But in spite of these conditions, or perhaps because of them, the Sarian
possessed a certain philosophic outlook upon life that permitted him to
accept his fate with marked stoicism and to take advantage of the
enforced delay by fashioning a bow, arrows and a spear from the material
afforded by the tree in which he was confined.
The tree gave him everything that he needed except the cord for his bow,
and this he cut from the rawhide belt that supported his loin cloth—a
long, slender strip of rawhide which he inserted in his mouth and chewed
thoroughly until it was entirely impregnated with saliva. Then he bent
his bow and stretched the wet rawhide from tip to tip. While it dried,
he pointed his arrows with his teeth.
In drying the rawhide shrunk, bending the bow still further and
tightening the string until it hummed to the slightest touch.
The weapons were finished and yet the great bulls still stood on guard,
and while Tanar remained helpless in the tree Jude was taking Stellara
toward the interior of the island.
But all things must end. Impatient of delay, Tanar sought some plan
whereby he might rid himself of the short tempered beasts beneath him.
He hit upon the plan of yelling and throwing dead branches at them and
this did have the effect of bringing them all to their feet. A few
wandered away to graze with the balance of the herd, but enough remained
to keep Tanar securely imprisoned.
A great bull stood directly beneath him. Tanar jumped up and down upon a
small branch, making its leafy end whip through the air, and at the same
time he hurled bits of wood at the great thags. And then, suddenly, to
the surprise and consternation of both man and beast, the branch broke
and precipitated Tanar full upon the broad shoulders of the bull.
Instantly his fingers clutched its long hair as, with a bellow of
surprise and terror, the beast leaped forward.
Instinct took the frightened animal toward the balance of the herd and
when they saw him with a man sitting upon his back they, too, became
terrified, with the result that a general stampede ensued, the herd
attempting to escape their fellow, while the bull raced to be among
them.
Stragglers, that had been grazing at a considerable distance from the
balance of the herd, were stringing out to the rear and it was the
presence of these that made it impossible for Tanar to slip to the
ground and make his escape. Knowing that he would be trampled by those
behind if he left the back of the bull, there was no alternative but to
remain where he was as long as he could.
The thag, now thoroughly frightened because of his inability to dislodge
the man-thing from his shoulders, was racing blindly forward, and
presently Tanar found himself carried into the very midst of the lunging
herd as it thundered across the table-land toward a distant forest.
The Sarian knew that once they reached the forest he would doubtless be
scraped from the back of the thag almost immediately by some low hanging
limb, and if he were not killed or injured by the blow he would be
trampled to death by the thags behind. But as escape seemed hopeless he
could only await the final outcome of this strange adventure.
When the leaders of the herd approached the forest hope was rekindled in
Tanar’s breast, for he saw that the growth was so thick and the trees so
close together that it was impossible for the beasts to enter the woods
at a rapid gait.
Immediately the leaders reached the edge of the forest their pace was
slowed down and those behind them, pushing forward, were stopped by
those in front. Some of them attempted to climb up, or were forced up,
upon the backs of those ahead. But, for the most part, the herd slowed
down and contented itself with pushing steadily onward toward the woods
with the result that when the beast that Tanar was astride arrived at
the edge of the dark shadows his gait had been reduced to a walk, and as
he passed beneath the first tree Tanar swung lightly into its branches.
He had lost his spear, but his bow and arrows that he had strapped to
his back remained with him, and as the herd passed beneath him and he
saw the last of them disappear in the dark aisles of the forest, he
breathed a deep sigh of relief and turned once more toward the far end
of the island.
The thags had carried him inland a considerable distance, so now he cut
back diagonally toward the coast to gain as much ground as possible.
Tanar had not yet emerged from the forest when he heard the excited
growling of some wild beast directly ahead of him.
He thought that he recognized the voice of a codon, and fitting an arrow
to his bow he crept warily forward. What wind was blowing came from the
beast toward him and presently brought to his nostrils proof of the
correctness of his guess, together with another familiar scent—that of
man.
Knowing that the beast could not catch his scent from upwind, Tanar had
only to be careful to advance silently, but there are few animals on
earth that can move more silently than primitive man when he elects to
do so, and so Tanar came in sight of the beast without being discovered
by it.
It was, as he had thought, a huge wolf, a pre-historic but gigantic
counterpart of our own timber wolf.
No need had the codon to run in packs, for in size, strength, ferocity
and courage it was a match for any creature that it sought to bring
down, with the possible exception of the mammoth, and this great beast
alone it hunted in packs.
The codon stood snarling beneath a great tree, occasionally leaping high
against the bole as though he sought to reach something hidden by the
foliage above.
Tanar crept closer and presently he saw the figure of a youth crouching
among the lower branches above the codon. It was evident that the boy
was terror-stricken, but the thing that puzzled Tanar was that he cast
affrighted glances upward into the tree more often than he did downward
toward the codon, and presently this fact convinced the Sarian that the
youth was menaced by something above him.
Tanar viewed the predicament of the boy and then considered the pitiful
inadequacy of his own makeshift bow and arrow, which might only
infuriate the beast and turn it upon himself. He doubted that the arrows
were heavy enough, or strong enough, to pierce through the savage heart
and thus only might he hope to bring down the codon.
Once more he crept to a new position, without attracting the attention
either of the codon or the youth, and from this new vantage point he
could look further up into the tree in which the boy crouched and then
it was that he realized the hopelessness of the boy’s position, for only
a few feet above him and moving steadily closer appeared the head of a
great snake, whose wide, distended jaws revealed formidable fangs.
Tanar’s consideration of the boy’s plight was influenced by a desire to
save him from either of the two creatures that menaced him and also by
the hope that if successful he might win sufficient gratitude to enlist
the services of the youth as a guide, and especially as a go-between in
the event that he should come in contact with natives of the island.
Tanar had now crept to within seven paces of the codon, from the sight
of which he was concealed by a low shrub behind which he lay. Had the
youth not been so occupied between the wolf and the snake he might have
seen the Sarian, but so far he had not seen him.
Fitting an arrow to his crude bow and inserting four others between the
fingers of his left hand, Tanar arose quietly and drove a shaft into the
back of the codon, between its shoulders.
With a howl of pain and rage the beast wheeled about, only to receive
another arrow full in the chest. Then his glaring eyes alighted upon the
Sarian and, with a hideous growl, he charged.
With such rapidity do events of this nature transpire that they are over
in much less time than it takes to record them, for a wounded wolf,
charging its antagonist, can cover seven paces in an incredibly short
space of time; yet even in that brief interval three more arrows sank
deeply into the white breast of the codon, and the momentum of its last
stride sent it rolling against the Sarian’s feet—dead.
The youth, freed from the menace of the codon, leaped to the ground and
would have fled without a word of thanks had not Tanar covered him with
another arrow and commanded him to halt.
The snake, seeing another man and realizing, perhaps, that the odds were
now against him, hesitated a moment and then withdrew into the foliage
of the tree, as Tanar advanced toward the trembling youth.
“Who are you?” demanded the Sarian.
“My name is Balal,” replied the youth. “I am the son of Scurv, the
chief.”
“Where is your village?” asked Tanar.
“It is not far,” replied Balal.
“Will you take me there?” asked Tanar.
“Yes,” replied Balal.
“Will your father receive me well?” continued the Sarian.
“You saved my life,” said Balal. “For that he will treat you well,
though for the most part we kill strangers who come to Garb.”
“Lead on,” said the Sarian.
XI
GURA
Balal led Tanar through the forest until they came at last to the edge
of a steep cliff, which the Sarian judged was the opposite side of the
promontory that had barred his way along the beach.