AN ATTACK BY KALKARS
The tunnel in which I found myself and along which Nah-ee-lah led me
toward the city of Laythe was remarkable in several particulars. It
was largely of natural origin, seemingly consisting of a series of
caves which may have been formed by bubbles in the cooling lava of
the original molten flow and which had later been connected by man to
form a continuous subterranean corridor. The caves themselves were
usually more or less spherical in shape and the debris from the
connecting passageways had been utilized to fill the bottoms of them
to the level of the main floor of the passageway. The general trend
of the tunnel was upward from the point at which we had entered it,
and there was a constant draught of air rushing along it in the same
direction in which we were moving, assuring me that it was
undoubtedly well ventilated for its full length. The walls and
ceiling were coated with a substance of which radium was evidently
one of the ingredients, since even after we had lost sight of the
entrance the passageway was well illuminated. We had been moving
along in silence for quite a little distance when I finally addressed
Nah-ee-lah.
“It must seem good,” I said, “to travel again this familiar tunnel of
your native city. I know how happy I should be were I thus
approaching my own birthplace.”
“I am glad to be returning to Laythe,” she said, “for many reasons,
but for one I am sorry, and as for this passageway it is scarcely
more familiar to me than to you, since I have traversed it but once
before in my life and that when I was a little girl and came here
with my father and his court upon the occasion of his periodical
inspection of the passageway, which is now practically never used.”
“If you are not familiar with the tunnel,” I asked, “are you sure
that there is no danger of our going astray at some fork or branch?”
“There is but the one passageway,” she replied, “which leads from the
crater to Laythe.”
“And how long is the tunnel?” I asked. “Will we soon enter the city?”
“No,” she replied, “it is a great distance from the crater to
Laythe.”
We had covered some little distance at this time, possibly five or
six miles, and she had scarcely ceased speaking when a turn in the
passageway led us into a cave of larger proportions than any through
which we had previously passed and from the opposite side of which
two passageways diverged.
“I thought there were no branches,” I remarked.
“I do not understand it,” she said. “There is no branch from the
tunnel of Laythe.”
“Could it be possible that we are in the wrong tunnel?” I asked, “and
that this does not lead to Laythe?”
“A moment before I should have been sure that we were in the right
tunnel,” she replied, “but now, Julian, I do not know, for never had
I heard of any branch of our own tunnel.”
We had crossed the cave and were standing between the openings of the
two divergent passageways.
“Which one shall we take?” I asked, but again she shook her head.
“I do not know,” she replied.
“Listen!” I cautioned her. “What was that?” For I was sure that I had
heard a sound issuing from one of the tunnels. We stood peering into
an aperture which revealed about a hundred yards of the passageway
before an abrupt turn hid the continuation of it from our view. We
could hear what now resolved itself into the faint sound of voices
approaching us along the corridor, and then quite suddenly the figure
of a man appeared around the corner of the turn. Nah-ee-lah leaped to
one side out of sight, drawing me with her.
“A Kalkar!” she whispered. “Oh, Julian, if they find us we are lost.”
“If there is only one of them I can take care of him,” I said.
“There will be more than one,” she replied; “there will be many.”
“Then, let us return the way we came and make our way to the top of
the crater’s rim before they discover us. We can throw their hooked
poles into the crater, including the one which we use to ascend from
the mouth of the tunnel, thus effectually preventing any pursuit.”
“We cannot cross this room again to the tunnel upon the opposite side
without being apprehended,” she replied. “Our only hope is in hiding
in this other tunnel until they have passed and trusting to chance
that we meet no one within it.”
“Come, then,” I said. “I dislike the idea of flying like a scared
rabbit, but neither would there be any great wisdom in facing armed
men without a single weapon of defense.”
Even as we had whispered thus briefly together, we found the voices
from the other tunnel had increased and I thought that I noted a tone
of excitement in them, though the speakers were still too far away
for us to understand their words. We moved swiftly up the branch
tunnel, Nah-ee-lah in the lead, and after passing the first turn we
both felt comparatively safe, for Nah-ee-lah was sure that the men
who had interrupted our journey were a party of hunters on their way
to the outer world by means of the crater through which we had
entered the tunnel and that they would not come up the branch in
which we were hiding. Thus believing, we halted after we were safely
out of sight and hearing of the large cave we had just left.
“That man was a Kalkar,” said Nah-ee-lah, “which means that we are in
the wrong tunnel and that we must retrace our steps and continue our
search for Laythe upon the surface of the ground.” Her voice sounded
tired and listless, as though hope had suddenly deserted her brave
heart. We were standing shoulder to shoulder in the narrow corridor
and I could not resist the impulse to place an arm about her and
comfort her.
“Do not despair, Nah-ee-lah,” I begged her; “we are no worse off than
we have been and much better off than before we escaped the Va-gas of
Ga-va-go. Then do you not recall that you mentioned one drawback to
your return to Laythe—that you might be as well off here as there?
What was the reason, Nah-ee-lah?”
“Ko-tah wants me in marriage,” she replied. “Ko-tah is very powerful.
He expects one day to be Jemadar of Laythe. This he cannot be while I
live unless he marries me.”
“Do you wish to marry him?” I asked.
“No,” she said; “not now. Before—” she hesitated—“before I left
Laythe I did not care so very much; but now I know that I cannot wed
with Ko-tah.”
“And your father,” I continued, “what of him—will he insist that you
marry Ko-tah?”
“He cannot do otherwise,” replied Nah-ee-lah, “for Ko-tah is very
powerful. If my father refuses to permit me to marry him Ko-tah may
overthrow him, and when my father is dead, should I still refuse to
marry Ko-tah he may slay me, also, and then become Jemadar easily,
for the blood of Jemadars flows in his veins.”
“It appears to me, Nah-ee-lah, that you will be about as badly off at
home as anywhere else in Va-nah. It is too bad that I cannot take you
to my own Earth, where you would be quite safe, and I am sure,
happy.”
“I wish that you might, Julian,” she replied simply.
I was about to reply when she placed slim fingers upon my lips.
“Hush, Julian!” she whispered, “they are following us up this
corridor. Come quickly, we must escape before they overtake us,” and
so saying, she turned and ran quickly along the corridor which led
neither of us knew whither.
But we were soon to find out, for we had gone but a short distance
when we came to the tunnel’s end in a large circular chamber, at one
end of which was a rostrum upon which were a massive, elaborately
carved desk and a chair of similar design. Below the rostrum were
arranged other chairs in rows, with a broad aisle down the center.
The furniture, though of peculiar design and elaborately carved with
strange figures of unearthly beasts and reptiles, was not, for all of
that, markedly dissimilar to articles of the same purpose fabricated
upon Earth. The chairs had four legs, high backs and broad arms,
seeming to have been designed equally for durability, service, and
comfort.
I glanced quickly around the apartment, as we first entered, only
taking in the details later, but I saw that there was no other
opening than the one through which we had entered.
“We will have to wait here, Nah-ee-lah,” I said. “Perhaps, though,
all will be well—the Kalkars may prove friendly.”
She shook her head negatively. “No,” she said, “they will not be
friendly.”
“What will they do to us?” I asked.
“They will make slaves of us,” she replied, “and we shall spend the
balance of our lives working almost continuously until we drop with
fatigue under the cruelest of taskmakers, for the Kalkars hate us of
Laythe and will hesitate at nothing that will humiliate or injure
us.”
She had scarcely ceased speaking when there appeared in the entrance
of the cave the figure of a man about my own height dressed in a
tunic similar to Nah-ee-lah’s but evidently made of leather. He
carried a knife slung in a scabbard depending from a shoulder belt,
and in his right hand he grasped a slender lance. His eyes were close
set upon either side of a prominent, hooked nose. They were watery,
fishy, blue eyes, and the hair growing profusely above his low
forehead was flaxen in color. His physique was admirable, except for
a noticeable stoop. His feet were very large and his gait awkward
when he moved. Behind him I could see the heads and shoulders of
others. They stood there grinning at us for a moment, most
malevolently, it seemed to me, and then they entered the cave—a full
dozen of them. There were several types, with eyes and hair of
different colors, the former ranging from blue to brown, the latter
from light blond to almost black.
As they emerged from the mouth of the tunnel they spread out and
advanced slowly toward us. We were cornered like rats in a trap. How
I longed for the feel of my automatic at my hip! I envied them their
slender spears and their daggers. If I could have but these I might
have a chance at least to take Nah-ee-lah out of their clutches and
save her from the hideous fate of slavery among the Kalkars, for I
had guessed what such slavery would mean to her from the little that
she had told me, and I had guessed, too, that she would rather die
than submit to it. For my own part, life held little for me; I had
long since definitely given up any hope of ever returning to my own
world, or of finding the ship and being re-united with West and Jay
and Norton. There came upon me at that moment, however, a sense of
appreciation of the fact that since we had left the village of the No-
vans I had been far from unhappy, nor could I attribute this to aught
else than the companionship of Nah-ee-lah—a realization that
convinced me that I should be utterly miserable were she to be taken
from me now. Was I to submit supinely then, to capture and slavery
for myself and worse than death for Nah-ee-lah, with the assurance of
consequent separation from her? No. I held up my hand as a signal for
the advancing Kalkars to halt.
“Stop!” I commanded. “Before you advance farther I wish to know your
intentions toward us. We entered this tunnel, mistaking it for that
which led to the city of my companion. Permit us to depart in peace
and all will be well.”
“All will be well, anyway,” replied the leader of the Kalkars. “You
are a strange creature, such as I have never before seen in Va-nah.
Of you we know nothing except that you are not of the Kalkars, and
therefore an enemy of the Kalkars, but this other is from Laythe.”
“You will not permit us to go in peace, then?” I demanded.
He laughed sneeringly. “Nor in any other way,” he said.
I had been standing in the aisle, with my hand upon one of the chairs
near the rostrum and now I turned to Nah-ee-lah who was standing
close beside me.
“Come,” I said to her, “follow me; stay close behind me.” Several of
the Kalkars were coming down the main aisle toward us, and as I
turned toward them from speaking to Nah-ee-lah, I raised the chair
which my hand had been resting upon, and swinging it quickly around
my head hurled it full in the face of the leader. As he went down Nah-
ee-lah and I ran forward, gaining a little toward the opening of the
tunnel, and then without pausing I hurled another chair and a third
and a fourth, in rapid succession. The Kalkars tried to bring us down
with their lances, but they were so busy dodging chairs that they
could not cast their weapons accurately, and even those few which
might otherwise have struck us were warded off by my rather
remarkable engines of defense.
There had been four Kalkars advancing toward us down the center
aisle. The balance of the party had divided, half of it circling the
cave to the left and the other half to the right, with the evident
intention of coming up the center aisle from behind us. This maneuver
had started just before I commenced hurling chairs at the four
directly in front of us, and now when those who had intended to take
us from the rear discovered that we were likely to make our way
through to the tunnel’s entrance, some of them sprang toward us along
the passageways between the chairs, which necessitated my turning and
devoting a moment’s attention to them. One huge fellow was in the
lead, coming across the backs of the chairs leaping from seat to
seat; and being the closest to me, he was naturally my first target.
The chairs were rather heavy and the one that I let drive at him
caught him full in the chest with an impact that brought a howl from
him and toppled him over across the backs of the chairs behind him,
where he hung limp and motionless. Then I turned my attention again
to those before us, all of whom had fallen before my massive
ammunition. Three of them lay still, but one of them had scrambled to
his feet and was in the very act of casting his lance as I looked. I
stopped the weapon with a chair and as the fellow went down I caught
a glimpse of Nah-ee-lah from the corners of my eyes as she snatched
the lance from the first Kalkar who had fallen and hurled it at
someone behind me. I heard a scream of rage and pain and then I
turned in time to see another of the Kalkars fall almost at my feet,
the lance imbedded in his heart.
The way before us was temporarily open, while the Kalkars behind us
had paused, momentarily, at least, in evident consternation at the
havoc I wrought with these unseemly weapons against which they had no
defense.
“Get two knives and two lances from those who have fallen,” I cried
to Nah-ee-lah, “while I hold these others back.” She did as I bade,
and slowly we backed toward the mouth of the tunnel. My chairs had
accounted for half our enemies when at last we stood in the opening,
each armed with a lance and a knife.
“Now run, Nah-ee-lah, as you never ran before,” I whispered to my
companion. “I can hold them off until you have reached the mouth of
the tunnel and clambered to the rim of the crater. If I am lucky, I
will follow you.”
“I will not leave you, Julian,” she replied, “we will go together or
not at all.”
“But you must, Nah-ee-lah,” I insisted, “it is for you that I have
been fighting them. What difference can it make in my fate where I am
when in Va-nah—all here are my enemies.”
She laid her hand gently upon my arm. “I will not leave you, Julian,”
she repeated, “and that is final.” The Kalkars within the room were
now advancing toward us menacingly.
“Halt!” I cried to them, “you see what fate your companions have met,
because you would not let us go in peace. That is all we ask. I am
armed now and it will be death to any who follow us.”
They paused and I saw them whispering together as Nah-ee-lah and I
backed along the corridor, a turn in which soon shut them from our
view. Then we wheeled and ran like deer along the winding passageway.
I did not feel very safe from capture at any time, but at least I
breathed a sigh of relief after we had passed the chamber from which
the Kalkars had run us into the cul-de-sac, and we had seen no sign
of any other of their kind. We heard no sound of pursuit, but that in
itself meant nothing, since the Kalkars are shod with soft leather
sandals, the material for which, like all their other leather
trappings, is made of the skins of Va-gas and of the prisoners from
Laythe.
As we came to the pile of hooked poles which marked the last turn
before the entrance of the tunnel I breathed an inward sigh of
relief. Stooping, I gathered them all in my arms, and then we ran on
to the opening into the crater, where I cast all but one of the poles
into the abyss. That which I retained I hooked over the lip of the
crater and then, turning to Nah-ee-lah, I bade her ascend.
“You should have saved two of the poles,” she said, “and then we
could have ascended together; but I will make haste and you can
follow me immediately, for we do not know but that they are pursuing
us. I cannot imagine that they will let us escape thus easily.”
Even as she spoke I heard the soft patter of sandal shod feet up the
corridor.
“Make haste, Nah-ee-lah,” I cried; “they come!”
Climbing a pole is slow work at best, but when one is suspended over
the brink of a bottomless chasm and is none too sure of the security
of the hook that is holding the pole above, one must needs move
cautiously. Yet, even so, Nah-ee-lah scrambled upward so rapidly as
to fill me with apprehension for her safety. Nor were my fears
entirely groundless, for standing in the mouth of the tunnel, where I
could keep one eye upon Nah-ee-lah and the other toward the turn
around which my pursuers would presently come in view, I saw the
girl’s hands grasp the rim of the crater at the very instant that the
hook came loose and the pole dropped past me into the abyss. I might
have caught it as it fell, but my whole mind was fixed upon Nah-ee-
lah and her grave danger. Would she be able to draw herself upward,
or would she fall? I saw her straining frantically to raise her body
above the edge of the volcano, and then from up the corridor behind
me came an exultant cry and I turned to face a brawny Kalkar who was
racing toward me.