A FIGHT WITH A TOR-HO
Nah-ee-lah and I passed through the village of the No-vans
undetected, since the people of Ga-va-go were cowering in their huts,
terror-stricken by the storm. The girl led me immediately to high
ground and upward along a barren ridge toward the high mountains in
the distance. I could see that she was afraid though she tried to
hide it from me, putting on a brave front that I was sure she was far
from feeling. My respect for her increased, as I have always
respected courage, and I believe that it requires the highest courage
to do that which fills one with fear. The man who performs heroic
acts without fear is less brave than he who overcomes his cowardice.
Realizing her fear I retained her hand in mine, that the contact
might impart to her a little of the confidence that I felt, now that
I was temporarily at least out of the clutches of the Va-gas.
We had reached the ridge above the village when the thought that we
were weaponless and without means of protection overwhelmed me. I had
been in so much of a hurry to escape the village that I had
overlooked this very vital consideration. I spoke to Nah-ee-lah about
it, telling her that I had best return to the village and make an
effort to regain possession of my own weapons and ammunition. She
tried to dissuade me, telling me that such an attempt was foredoomed
to failure and prophesying that I would be recaptured.
“But we cannot cross this savage world of yours, Nah-ee-lah, without
means of protection,” I urged. “We do not know at what minute some
fierce creature may confront us—think how helpless we shall be
without weapons with which to defend ourselves.”
“There are only the Va-gas,” she said, “to fear in this part of Va-
nah. We know no other dangerous beast, except the tor-ho. They are
seldom seen. Against the Va-gas your weapons would be useless, as you
already have discovered. The risk of meeting a tor-ho is infinitely
less than that which you will incur if you attempt to enter Ga-va-
go’s hut to secure your weapons. You simply could not do it and
escape, for doubtless the dwelling of the Chief is crowded with
warriors.”
I was compelled, finally, to admit the wisdom of her reasoning and to
forego an attempt to secure my rifle and pistol, though I can assure
you that I felt lost without them, especially when thus venturing
forth into a new world so strange to me as Va-nah, and so savage. As
a matter of fact, from what I gleaned from Nah-ee-lah, there was but
a single spot upon the entire inner lunar world where she and I could
hope to be even reasonably free from danger, and that was her native
city of Laythe. Even there I should have enemies, she told me, for
her race is ever suspicious of strangers; but the friendship of the
princess would be my protection, she assured me with a friendly
pressure of the hand.
The rain and wind must have persisted for a considerable time, for
when it was finally over and we looked back through a clear
atmosphere we found that a low range of mountains lay between us and
the distant sea. We had crossed these and were upon a plateau at the
foot of the higher peaks. The sea looked very far away indeed, and we
could not even guess at the location of the No-vans village from
which we had escaped.
“Do you think they will pursue us?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said; “they will try to find us, but it will be like
looking for a raindrop in the ocean. They are creatures of the low-
lands—I am of the mountains. Down there,” and she pointed into the
valley, “they might find me easily, but in my own mountains—no.”
“We are near Laythe?” I asked.
“I do not know. Laythe is hard to find—it is well hidden. It is for
this reason that it exists at all. Its founders were pursued by the
Kalkars, and had they not found an almost inaccessible spot they
would have been discovered and slain long before they could have
constructed an impregnable city.”
She led me then straight into the mighty mountains of the Moon, past
the mouths of huge craters that reached through the lunar crust to
the surface of the satellite, along the edges of yawning chasms that
dropped three, four, yes, sometimes five miles, sheer into frightful
gorges, and then out upon vast plateaus, but ever upward toward the
higher peaks that seemed to topple above us in the distance. The
craters, as a rule, lay in the deep gorges, but some we found upon
the plateaus, and even a few opened into the summits of mountain
peaks as do those upon the outer surface of planets. Those in the low
places were, I believe, the openings through which the original
molten lunar core was vomitted forth by the surface volcanoes upon
the outer crust.
Nah-ee-lah told me that the secret entrance to Laythe lay just below
the lip of one of these craters, and it was this she sought. To me
the quest seemed hopeless, for as far as the eye could reach lay
naught but an indescribable jumble of jagged peaks, terrific gorges
and bottomless craters. Yet always the girl seemed to find a way
among or about them—instinctively, apparently, she found trails and
footholds where there were no trails and where a chamois might have
been hard put to it to find secure footing.
In these higher altitudes we found a vegetation that differed
materially from that which grew in the lowlands. Edible fruits and
berries were, however, still sufficiently plentiful to keep us
reasonably well supplied with food. When we were tired we usually
managed to find a cave in which we could rest in comparative
security, and when it was possible to do so Nah-ee-lah always
insisted upon barricading the entrance with rocks, since there was
always the danger, she told me, of our being attacked by tor-hos.
These blood-thirsty creatures while rare, were nevertheless very much
to be feared, since not only were they voracious meat eaters and of
such a savage disposition that they attacked nearly everything they
saw in wanton ferocity, but even a minor wound inflicted by their
fangs or talons often proved fatal, because of the fact that their
principal diet was the poisonous flesh of the rympth and the flying
toad. I tried to get Nah-ee-lah to describe the creature to me, but
inasmuch as there was no creature with which we were both familiar
that she might compare it with, I learned little more from her than
that it stood between eighteen inches and two feet in height, had
long, sharp fangs, four legs and was hairless.
As an aid to climbing, as well as to give me some means of
protection, I broke a stout and rather heavy branch from one of the
mountain trees, the wood of which was harder than any that I had seen
growing in the lowlands. To roam a strange and savage world armed
only with a wooden stick seemed to me the height of rashness, but
there was no alternative until the time arrived when I might find the
materials with which to fashion more formidable weapons. I had in
mind a bow and arrows and was constantly on the lookout for wood
which I considered adapted to the former, and I also determined to
forego my cane for a spear whenever the material for the making of
one came to hand. I had little time, however, for such things, as it
seemed that when we were not sleeping we were constantly upon the
move, Nah-ee-lah becoming more and more impatient to find her native
city as the chances for so doing lessened—and it seemed to me that
they were constantly lessening. While I was quite sure that she had
no more idea where Laythe lay than I, yet we stumbled on and on and
on, through the most stupendous mountain ranges that the mind of man
can conceive, nor ever, apparently, did Nah-ee-lah discover a single
familiar landmark upon which to hang a shred of hope that eventually
we might come upon Laythe.
I never saw such a sanguine and hopeful person as Nah-ee-lah. It was
her constant belief that Laythe lay just beyond the next mountain, in
spite of the fact that she was invariably mistaken—which seemed never
to lessen the exuberance of her enthusiasm for the next guess—which I
knew beforehand was going to be a wrong guess.
Once just after we had rounded the shoulder of a mountain we came
upon a little strip of level land clinging to the clung precariously
to the side of a perpendicular cliff. And so I stood there waiting,
my feeble stick grasped in both hands. Just what I expected to do
with it I scarcely knew until the side of a mighty peak. I was in the
lead—a position which I tried always to take when it was not
absolutely necessary for Nah-ee-lah to go ahead in order to find a
trail. As I came around the shoulder of the mountain, and in full
sight of the little level area, I was positive that I saw a slight
movement among some bushes at my right about halfway along one side
of the little plain.
As we came abreast of the spot, upon which I kept my eye, there broke
upon our ears the most hideous scream that I have ever heard, and
simultaneously there leaped from the concealment of the bushes a
creature about the size of a North American mountain lion, though
quite evidently a reptile and probably a tor-ho, as such it proved to
be. There was something about the head and face which suggested the
cat family to me, yet there was really no resemblance between it and
any of the earthly felines. It came at me with those terrible curved
fangs bared and bristling and as it came it emitted the most
terrifying sounds—I have called them screams, because that word more
nearly describes them than any other, and yet they were a combination
of shrieks and moans—the most blood-curdling that I have ever heard.
Nah-ee-lah grasped my arm. “Run!” she cried, “run.” But I shook her
loose and stood my ground. I wanted to run, that I will admit, but
where to? The creature was covering the ground at tremendous speed
and our only avenue of escape was the narrow trail over which we had
just come, when the tor-ho was upon me. Then I swung for its head as a
batter swings for a pitched ball. I struck it square upon the nose—a
terrific blow that not only stopped it, but felled it. I could hear
the bones crushing beneath the impact of my crude weapon and I
thought that I had done for the thing with that single blow, but I
did not know the tremendous vitality of the creature. Almost
instantly it was up and at me again, and again I struck it, this time
upon the side of the head, and again I heard bones crush and again it
fell heavily to the ground.
What appeared to be cold blood was oozing slowly from its wounded
face as it came at me for the third time, its eyes glaring hideously,
its broken jaws agape to seize me, while its shrieks and moans rose
to a perfect frenzy of rage and pain. It reared up and struck at me
with its talons now, but I met it again with my bludgeon and this
time I broke a fore leg.
How long I fought that awful thing I cannot even guess. Time and time
again it charged me furiously and each time, though often in but a
miracle of fortune, I managed to keep it from closing, and each blow
that I delivered crushed and maimed it a little more, until at last
it was nothing but a bleeding wreck of pulp, still trying to crawl
toward me upon its broken legs and seize me and drag me down with its
broken, toothless jaws. Even then it was with the greatest difficulty
that I killed it, that I might put it out of its misery.
Rather exhausted, I turned to look for Nah-ee-lah, and much to my
surprise, I found her standing directly behind me.
“I thought you had run away,” I said.
“No,” she said, “you did not run and so I did not, but I never
thought that you would be able to kill it.”
“You thought that it would kill me, then?” I asked.
“Certainly,” she replied. “Even now I cannot understand how you were
able to overcome a tor-ho with that pitiful little stick of wood.”
“But if you thought I was going to be killed,” I insisted, “why was
it that you did not seek safety in flight?”
“If you had been killed I should not have cared to live,” she said
simply.
I did not exactly understand her attitude and scarcely knew what
reply to make.
“It was very foolish of you,” I said at last, rather blunderingly,
“and if we are attacked again you must run and save yourself.”
She looked at me for a moment with a peculiar expression upon her
face which I could not interpret and then turned and resumed her way
in the direction in which we had been traveling when our journey had
been interrupted by the tor-ho. She did not say anything, but I felt
that I had offended her and I was sorry. I did not want her falling
in love with me, though, and according to earthly standards, her
statement that she would rather die than live without me might
naturally have been interpreted as a confession of love. The more I
thought of it, however, as we moved along in silence, the more
possible it seemed to me that her standards might differ widely from
mine and that I was only proving myself to be an egotistical ass in
assuming that Nah-ee-lah loved me. I wished that I might explain
matters to her, but it is one of those things that is rather
difficult to explain, and I realized that it might be made much worse
if I attempted to do so.
We had been such good friends and our fellowship had been so perfect
that the apparently strained silence which existed between us was
most depressing. Nah-ee-lah had always been a talkative little person
and always gay and cheerful, even under the most trying conditions.
I was rather tired out after my encounter with the tor-ho and should
have liked to stop for a rest, but I did not suggest it, neither did
Nah-ee-lah, and so we continued on our seemingly interminable way,
though, almost exhausted as I was, I dropped some little distance
behind my beautiful guide.
She was quite out of sight ahead of me upon the winding trail when
suddenly I heard her calling my name aloud. I answered her as,
simultaneously, I broke into a run, for I did not know but what she
might be in danger, though her voice did not sound at all like it.
She was only a short distance ahead and when I came in sight of her I
saw her standing at the edge of a mighty crater. She was facing me
and she was smiling.
“Oh, Julian,” she cried, “I have found it. I am home and we are safe
at last.”
“I am glad, Nah-ee-lah,” I said. “I have been much worried on account
of the dangers to which you have been constantly subjected, as well
as because of a growing fear that you would never be able to find
Laythe.”
“Oh, my!” she exclaimed, “I knew that I would find it. If I had to
hunt through every mountain range in Va-nah I would have found it.”
“You are quite sure that this is the crater where lies the entrance
to Laythe?” I asked her.
“There is no doubt of it, Julian,” she replied, and she pointed
downward over the lip of the crater toward a narrow ledge which lay
some twenty feet below and upon which I saw what appeared to be the
mouth of a cave opening into the crater.
“But, how are we going to reach it?” I asked.
“It may be difficult,” she replied, “but we will find a way.”
“I hope so, Nah-ee-lah,” I said, “but without a rope or wings I do
not see how we are going to accomplish it.”
“In the mouth of the tunnel,” explained Nah-ee-lah, “there are long
poles, each of which has a hook at one end. Ages ago there were no
other means of ingress or egress to the city and those who came out
to hunt or for any other purpose came through this long tunnel from
the city, and from the ledge below they raised their poles and placed
the hooked ends over the rim of the crater, after which it was a
simple matter to clamber up or down the poles as they wished; but it
has been long since these tunnels were used by the people of Va-nah,
who had no further need of them after the perfection of the flying
wings which you saw me using when I was captured by the Va-gas.”
“If they used poles, so may we,” I said, “since there are plenty of
young trees growing close to the rim of the crater. The only
difficulty will be in felling one of them.”
“We can do that,” said Nah-ee-lah, “if we can find some sharp
fragments of stone. It will be slow work, but it can be done,” and
she started immediately to hunt for a fragment with a cutting edge. I
joined her in the search and it was not long before we had discovered
several pieces of obsidian with rather sharp edges. We then started
to work upon a young tree about four inches in diameter that grew
almost straight for a height of some thirty feet.
Cutting the tree down with our bits of lava glass was tedious work,
but finally it was accomplished, and we were both much elated when
the tree toppled and fell to the ground. Cutting away the branches
occupied almost as long a time, but that, too, was finally
accomplished. The next problem which confronted us was that of making
the top of the pole secure enough to hold while we descended to the
ledge before the mouth of the tunnel. We had no rope and nothing with
which to fashion one, other than my garments, which I was loth to
destroy, inasmuch as in these higher altitudes it was often cold.
Presently, however, I hit upon a plan which, if Nah-ee-lah’s muscles
and my nerves withstood the strain it put upon them, bade fair to
assure the success of our undertaking. I lowered the larger end of
the pole over the side of the crater until the butt rested upon the
ledge before the mouth of the tunnel. Then I turned to Nah-ee-lah.
“Lie down flat at full length, Nah-ee-lah,” I directed her, “and hold
this pole securely with both hands. You will only have to keep it
from toppling to the sides or outward, and to that, I think, your
strength is equal. While you hold it, I will descend to the mouth of
the tunnel and raise one of the regular hooked poles which you say
should be deposited there. If they are not, I believe that I can hold
our own pole securely from below while you descend.” She looked over
into the vast abyss below and shuddered. “I can hold it at the top,”
she said, “if the bottom does not slip from the ledge.”
“That is a chance that I shall have to take,” I replied, “but I will
descend very carefully and I think there will be little danger upon
that score.”
I could see, upon a more careful examination of the ledge below, that
there was some danger of an accident such as she suggested.
Nah-ee-lah took her position as I had directed and lay grasping the
pole securely in both hands at the rim of the crater, which was
absolutely perpendicular at this point, and I prepared to make the
perilous descent.
I can assure you that my sensations were far from pleasurable as I
looked over into that awful abyss. The crater itself was some four or
five miles in diameter, and, as I had every reason to suspect,
extended fully two hundred and fifty miles through the lunar crust to
the surface of the Moon. It was one of the most impressive moments of
my life as I clung balancing upon the edge of that huge orifice,
gazing into the silent, mysterious depths below. And then I seized
the pole very gently and lowered myself over the edge.
“Courage, Julian!” whispered Nah-ee-lah; “I shall hold very tight.”
“I shall be quite safe, Nah-ee-lah,” I assured her. “I must be safe,
for if I am not, how are you to reach the ledge and Laythe?”
As I descended very slowly I tried not to think at all, but to
exclude from my mind every consideration of the appalling depths
beneath me. I could not have been more than two feet from the ledge
when the very thing that we both tried so hard to guard against
transpired—a splintered fragment of the pole’s butt crumpled beneath
my weight and that slight jar was just sufficient to start the base
of my precarious ladder sliding toward the edge of the narrow
projection upon which I had rested it, and beyond which lay eternity.
Above me I heard a slight scream and then the pole slipped from the
ledge and I felt myself falling.
It was over in an instant. My feet struck the ledge and I threw
myself within the mouth of the tunnel. And then, above me, I heard
Nah-ee-lah’s voice crying in agonized tones:
“Julian! Julian! I am falling!”
Instantly I sprang to my feet and peered upward from the mouth of the
tunnel upon a sight that froze my blood, so horrifying did it seem,
for there above me, still clinging to the pole, hung Nah-ee-lah, her
body, with the exception of her legs, completely over the edge of the
crater. Just as I looked up she dropped the pole and although I made
a grab for it I missed it and it fell past me into the maw of the
crater.
“Julian! Julian! You are safe!” she cried; “I am glad of that. It
terrified me so when I thought you were falling and I tried my best
to hold the pole, but your weight dragged me over the edge of the
crater. Good-bye, Julian, I cannot hold on much longer.”
“You must, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried; “do not forget the hooked poles that
you told me of. I will find one and have you down in no time.” And
even as I spoke I turned and dove into the tunnel; but my heart stood
still at the thought that the poles might not be there. My first
glance revealed only the bare rock of walls and floor and ceiling and
no hooked poles in sight. I sprang quickly farther into the tunnel
which turned abruptly a few yards ahead of me and just around the
bend my eyes were gladdened by the sight of a dozen or more of the
poles which Nah-ee-lah had described. Seizing one of them, I ran
quickly back to the entrance. I was almost afraid to look up, but as
I did so I was rewarded by the sight of Nah-ee-lah’s face smiling
down at me—she could smile even in the face of death, could Nah-ee-
lah.
“Just a moment more, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried to her, as I raised the
pole and caught the hook upon the crater’s rim. There were small
protuberances on either side of the pole for its entire length, which
made climbing it comparatively simple.
“Make haste, Julian!” she cried, “I am slipping.”
It wasn’t necessary for her to tell me to make haste. I think that I
never did anything more quickly in my life than I climbed that pole,
but I reached her not an instant too soon, for even as my arm slipped
about her, her hold upon the ledge above gave way, and she came down
head foremost upon me. I had no difficulty in catching her and
supporting her weight. My only fear was that the hook above might not
sustain the added weight under the strain of her falling body. But it
held, and I blessed the artisan who had made it thus strong.
A moment later I had descended to the mouth of the tunnel and drawn
Nah-ee-lah into the safety of its interior. My arm was still around
her and hers about me as she stood there sobbing upon my breast. She
was utterly relaxed and her supple body felt so helpless against me
that there was suddenly aroused within me a feeling such as I had
never experienced before—a rather indescribable feeling, yet one
which induced, seemingly, an irresistible and ridiculous desire to go
forth and slay whole armies of men in protection of this little Moon
Maid. It must have been a sudden mental reversion to some ancient
type of crusading ancestor of the Middle Ages—some knight in armor
from whose loins I had sprung, transmitting to me his own flamboyant,
yet none the less admirable, chivalry. The feeling rather surprised
me, for I have always considered myself more or less practical and
hard-headed. But more sober thought finally convinced me that it was
but a nervous reaction from the thrilling moments through which we
had both just passed, coupled with her entire helplessness and
dependence upon me. Be that as it may, I disengaged her arms from
about my neck as gently and as quickly as I could and lowered her
carefully to the floor of the tunnel, so that she sat with her back
leaning against one of the walls.
“You are very brave, Julian,” she said, “and very strong.”
“I am afraid I am not very brave,” I told her. “I am almost weak from
fright even now—I was so afraid that I would not reach you in time,
Nah-ee-lah.”
“It is the brave man who is afraid after the danger is past,” she
said. “He has no time to think of fear until after the happening is
all over. You may have been afraid for me, Julian, but you could not
have been afraid for yourself, or otherwise you would not have taken
the risk of catching me as I fell. Even now I cannot understand how
you were able to hold me.”
“Perhaps,” I reminded her, “I am stronger than the men of Va-nah, for
my earthly muscles are accustomed to overcoming a gravity six times
as great as that upon your world. Had this same accident happened
upon Earth I might not have been able to hold you when you fell.”