Chapter 7
THE cruiser Vanator careened through the tempest That she had notbeen dashed to the ground, or twisted by the force of theelements into tangled wreckage, was due entirely to the capriceof Nature. For all the duration of the storm she rode, a helplessderelict, upon those storm-tossed waves of wind. But for all thedangers and vicissitudes they underwent, she and her crew mighthave borne charmed lives up to within an hour of the abating ofthe hurricane. It was then that the catastrophe occurred--acatastrophe indeed to the crew of the Vanator and the kingdom ofGathol.
The men had been without food or drink since leaving Helium, andthey had been hurled about and buffeted in their lashings untilall were worn to exhaustion. There was a brief lull in the stormduring which one of the crew attempted to reach his quarters,after releasing the lashings which had held him to the precarioussafety of the deck. The act in itself was a direct violation oforders and, in the eyes of the other members of the crew, theeffect, which came with startling suddenness, took the form of aswift and terrible retribution. Scarce had the man released thesafety snaps ere a swift arm of the storm-monster encircled theship, rolling it over and over, with the result that thefoolhardy warrior went overboard at the first turn.
Unloosed from their lashing by the constant turning and twistingof the ship and the force of the wind, the boarding and landingtackle had been trailing beneath the keel, a tangled mass ofcordage and leather. Upon the occasions that the Vanator rolledcompletely over, these things would be wrapped around her untilanother revolution in the opposite direction, or the wind itself,carried them once again clear of the deck to trail, whipping inthe storm, beneath the hurtling ship.
Into this fell the body of the warrior, and as a drowning manclutches at a straw so the fellow clutched at the tangled cordagethat caught him and arrested his fall. With the strength ofdesperation he clung to the cordage, seeking frantically toentangle his legs and body in it. With each jerk of the ship hishand holds were all but torn loose, and though he knew thateventually they would be and that he must be dashed to the groundbeneath, yet he fought with the madness that is born ofhopelessness for the pitiful second which but prolonged hisagony.
It was upon this sight then that Gahan of Gathol looked, over theedge of the careening deck of the Vanator, as he sought to learnthe fate of his warrior. Lashed to the gunwale close at hand asingle landing leather that had not fouled the tangled massbeneath whipped free from the ship's side, the hook snapping atits outer end. The Jed of Gathol grasped the situation in asingle glance. Below him one of his people looked into the eyesof Death. To the jed's hand lay the means for succor.
There was no instant's hesitation. Casting off his deck lashings,he seized the landing leather and slipped over the ship's side.Swinging like a bob upon a mad pendulum he swung far out and backagain, turning and twisting three thousand feet above the surfaceof Barsoom, and then, at last, the thing he had hoped foroccurred. He was carried within reach of the cordage where thewarrior still clung, though with rapidly diminishing strength.Catching one leg on a loop of the tangled strands Gahan pulledhimself close enough to seize another quite near to the fellow.Clinging precariously to this new hold the jed slowly drew in thelanding leather, down which he had clambered until he could graspthe hook at its end. This he fastened to a ring in the warrior'sharness, just before the man's weakened fingers slipped fromtheir hold upon the cordage.
Temporarily, at least, he had saved the life of his subject,
and now he turned his attention toward insuring his own safety.Inextricably entangled in the mess to which he was clinging werenumerous other landing hooks such as he had attached to thewarrior's harness, and with one of these he sought to securehimself until the storm should abate sufficiently to permit himto climb to the deck, but even as he reached for one that swungnear him the ship was caught in a renewed burst of the storm'sfury, the thrashing cordage whipped and snapped to the lunging ofthe great craft and one of the heavy metal hooks, lashing throughthe air, struck the Jed of Gathol fair between the eyes.
Momentarily stunned, Gahan's fingers slipped from their hold uponthe cordage and the man shot downward through the thin air ofdying Mars toward the ground three thousand feet beneath, whileupon the deck of the rolling Vanator his faithful warriors clungto their lashings all unconscious of the fate of their belovedleader; nor was it until more than an hour later, after the stormhad materially subsided, that they realized he was lost, or knewthe self-sacrificing heroism of the act that had sealed his doom.The Vanator now rested upon an even keel as she was carried alongby a strong, though steady, wind. The warriors had cast off theirdeck lashings and the officers were taking account of losses anddamage when a weak cry was heard from oversides, attracting theirattention to the man hanging in the cordage beneath the keel.Strongs arms hoisted him to the deck and then it was that thecrew of the Vanator learned of the heroism of their jed and hisend. How far they had traveled since his loss they could onlyvaguely guess, nor could they return in search of him in thedisabled condition of the ship. It was a saddened company thatdrifted onward through the air toward whatever destination Fatewas to choose for them.
And Gahan, Jed of Gathol--what of him? Plummet-like he fell for athousand feet and then the storm seized him in its giant clutchand bore him far aloft again. As a bit of paper borne upon a galehe was tossed about in mid-air, the sport and plaything of thewind. Over and over it turned him and upward and downward itcarried him, but after each new sally of the element he wasbrought nearer to the ground. The freaks of cyclonic storms arethe rule of cyclonic storms, demolish giant trees, and in thesame gust they transport frail infants for miles and deposit themunharmed in their wake.
And so it was with Gahan of Gathol. Expecting momentarily to bedashed to destruction he presently found himself deposited gentlyupon the soft, ochre moss of a dead sea-bottom, bodily no worseoff for his harrowing adventure than in the possession of aslight swelling upon his forehead where the metal hook had struckhim. Scarcely able to believe that Fate had dealt thus gentlywith him, the jed arose slowly, as though more than halfconvinced that he should discover crushed and splintered bonesthat would not support his weight. But he was intact. He lookedabout him in a vain effort at orientation. The air was filledwith flying dust and debris. The Sun was obliterated. His visionwas confined to a radius of a few hundred yards of ochre moss anddust-filled air. Five hundred yards away in any direction theremight have arisen the walls of a great city and he not known it.It was useless to move from where he was until the air cleared,since he could not know in what direction he was moving, and sohe stretched himself upon the moss and waited, pondering the fateof his warriors and his ship, but giving little thought to hisown precarious situation.
Lashed to his harness were his swords, his pistols, and a dagger,and in his pocket-pouch a small quantity of the concentratedrations that form a part of the equipment of the fighting men ofBarsoom. These things together with trained muscles, highcourage, and an undaunted spirit sufficed him for whatevermisadventures might lie between him and Gathol, which lay in whatdirection he knew not, nor at what distance.
The wind was falling rapidly and with it the dust that obscuredthe landscape. That the storm was over he was convinced, but hechafed at the inactivity the low visibility put upon him, nor didconditions better materially before night fell, so that he wasforced to await the new day at the very spot at which the tempesthad deposited him. Without his sleeping silks and furs he spent afar from comfortable night, and it was with feelings of unmixedrelief that he saw the sudden dawn burst upon him. The air wasnow clear and in the light of the new day he saw an undulatingplain stretching in all directions about him, while to thenorthwest there were barely discernible the outlines of lowhills. Toward the southeast of Gathol was such a country, and asGahan surmised the direction and the velocity of the storm tohave carried him somewhere in the vicinity of the country hethought he recognized, he assumed that Gathol lay behind thehills he now saw, whereas, in reality, it lay far to thenortheast.
It was two days before Gahan had crossed the plain and reachedthe summit of the hills from which he hoped to see his owncountry, only to meet at last with disappointment. Before himstretched another plain, of even greater proportions than that hehad but just crossed, and beyond this other hills. In onematerial respect this plain differed from that behind him in thatit was dotted with occasional isolated hills. Convinced, however,that Gathol lay somewhere in the direction of his search hedescended into the valley and bent his steps toward thenorthwest.
For weeks Gahan of Gathol crossed valleys and hills in search ofsome familiar landmark that might point his way toward his nativeland, but the summit of each succeeding ridge revealed butanother unfamiliar view. He saw few animals and no men, until hefinally came to the belief that he had fallen upon that fabledarea of ancient Barsoom which lay under the curse of her oldengods--the once rich and fertile country whose people in theirpride and arrogance had denied the deities, and whose punishmenthad been extermination.
And then, one day, he scaled low hills and looked into aninhabited valley--a valley of trees and cultivated fields andplots of ground enclosed by stone walls surrounding strangetowers. He saw people working in the fields, but he did not rushdown to greet them. First he must know more of them and whetherthey might be assumed to be friends or enemies. Hidden byconcealing shrubbery he crawled to a vantage point upon a hillthat projected further into the valley,
and here he lay upon his belly watching the workers closest tohim. They were still quite a distance from him and he could notbe quite sure of them, but there was something verging upon theunnatural about them. Their heads seemed out of proportion totheir bodies--too large.
For a long time he lay watching them and ever more forcibly itwas borne in upon his consciousness that they were not as he, andthat it would be rash to trust himself among them. Presently hesaw a couple appear from the nearest enclosure and slowlyapproach those who were working nearest to the hill where he layin hiding. Immediately he was aware that one of these differedfrom all the others. Even at the greater distance he noted thatthe head was smaller and as they approached, he was confidentthat the harness of one of them was not as the harness of itscompanion or of that of any of those who tilled the fields.
The two stopped often, apparently in argument, as though onewould proceed in the direction that they were going while theother demurred. But each time the smaller won reluctant consentfrom the other, and so they came closer and closer to the lastline of workers toiling between the enclosure from which they hadcome and the hill where Gahan of Gathol lay watching, and thensuddenly the smaller figure struck its companion full in theface. Gahan, horrified, saw the latter's head topple from itsbody, saw the body stagger and fall to the ground. The man halfrose from his concealment the better to view the happening in thevalley below. The creature that had felled its companion wasdashing madly in the direction of the hill upon which he washidden, it dodged one of the workers that sought to seize it.Gahan hoped that it would gain its liberty, why he did not knowother than at closer range it had every appearance of being acreature of his own race. Then he saw it stumble and go down andinstantly its pursuers were upon it. Then it was that Gahan'seyes chanced to return to the figure of the creature the fugitivehad felled.
What horror was this that he was witnessing? Or were his eyesplaying some ghastly joke upon him? No, impossible though itwas--it was true--the head was moving slowly to the fallen body.It placed itself upon the shoulders, the body rose, and thecreature, seemingly as good as new, ran quickly to where itsfellows were dragging the hapless captive to its feet.
The watcher saw the creature take its prisoner by the arm andlead it back to the enclosure, and even across the distance thatseparated them from him he could note dejection and utterhopelessness in the bearing of the prisoner, and, too, he washalf convinced that it was a woman, perhaps a red Martian of hisown race. Could he be sure that this was true he must make someeffort to rescue her even though the customs of his strange worldrequired it only in case she was of his own country; but he wasnot sure; she might not be a red Martian at all, or, if she were,it was as possible that she sprang from an enemy people as not.His first duty was to return to his own people with as littlepersonal risk as possible, and though the thought of adventurestirred his blood he put the temptation aside with a sigh andturned away from the peaceful and beautiful valley that he longedto enter, for it was his intention to skirt its eastern edge andcontinue his search for Gathol beyond.
As Gahan of Gathol turned his steps along the southern slopes ofthe hills that bound Bantoom upon the south and east, hisattention was attracted toward a small cluster of trees a shortdistance to his right. The low sun was casting long shadows. Itwould soon be night. The trees were off the path that he hadchosen and he had little mind to be diverted from his way; but ashe looked again he hesitated. There was something there besidesboles of trees, and underbrush. There were suggestions offamiliar lines of the handicraft of man. Gahan stopped andstrained his eyes in the direction of the thing that had arrestedhis attention. No, he must be mistaken--the branches of the treesand a low bush had taken on an unnatural semblance in thehorizontal rays of the setting sun. He turned and continued uponhis way; but as he cast another side glance in the direction ofthe object of his interest, the sun's rays were shot back intohis eyes from a glistening point of radiance among the trees.
Gahan shook his head and walked quickly toward the mystery,determined now to solve it. The shining object still lured him onand when he had come closer to it his eyes went wide in surprise,for the thing they saw was naught else than the jewel-encrustedemblem upon the prow of a small flier. Gahan, his hand upon hisshort-sword, moved silently forward, but as he neared the crafthe saw that he had naught to fear, for it was deserted. Then heturned his attention toward the emblem. As its significance wasflashed to his understanding his face paled and his heart wentcold --it was the insignia of the house of The Warlord ofBarsoom. Instantly he saw the dejected figure of the captivebeing led back to her prison in the valley just beyond the hills.Tara of Helium! And he had been so near to deserting her to herfate. The cold sweat stood in beads upon his brow.
A hasty examination of the deserted craft unfolded to the youngjed the whole tragic story. The same tempest that had proved hisundoing had borne Tara of Helium to this distant country. Here,doubtless, she had landed in hope of obtaining food and watersince, without a propellor, she could not hope to reach hernative city, or any other friendly port, other than by the merestcaprice of Fate. The flier seemed intact except for the missingpropellor and the fact that it had been carefully moored in theshelter of the clump of trees indicated that the girl hadexpected to return to it, while the dust and leaves upon its deckspoke of the long days, and even weeks, since she had landed.Mute yet eloquent proofs, these things, that Tara of Helium was aprisoner, and that she was the very prisoner whose bold dash forliberty he had so recently witnessed he now had not the slightestdoubt.
The question now revolved solely about her rescue. He knew towhich tower she had been taken--that much and no more. Of thenumber, the kind, or the disposition of her captors he renewnothing; nor did he care--for Tara of Helium he would face ahostile world alone. Rapidly he considered several plans forsuccoring her; but the one that appealed most strongly to him wasthat which offered the greatest chance of escape for the girlshould he be successful in reaching her. His decision reached heturned his attention quickly toward the flier. Casting off itslashings he dragged it out from beneath the trees, and, mountingto the deck tested out the various controls. The motor started ata touch and purred sweetly, the buoyancy tanks were well stocked,and the ship answered perfectly to the controls which regulatedher altitude. There was nothing needed but a propellor to makeher fit for the long voyage to Helium. Gahan shruggedimpatiently--there must not be a propellor within a thousandhaads. But what mattered it? The craft even without a propellorwould still answer the purpose his plan required of it--providedthe captors of Tara of Helium were a people without ships, and hehad seen nothing to suggest that they had ships. The architectureof their towers and enclosures assured him that they had not.
The sudden Barsoomian night had fallen. Cluros rode majesticallythe high heavens. The rumbling roar of a banth reverberated amongthe hills. Gahan of Gathol let the ship rise a few feet from theground, then, seizing a bow rope, he dropped over the side. Totow the little craft was now a thing of ease, and as Gahan movedrapidly toward the brow of the hill above Bantoom the flierfloated behind him as lightly as a swan upon a quiet lake. Nowdown the hill toward the tower dimly visible in the moonlight theGatholian turned his steps. Closer behind him sounded the roar ofthe hunting banth. He wondered if the beast sought him or wasfollowing some other spoor. He could not be delayed now by anyhungry beast of prey, for what might that very instant bebefalling Tara of Helium he could not guess; and so he hastenedhis steps. But closer and closer came the horrid screams of thegreat carnivore, and now he heard the swift fall of padded feetupon the hillside behind him. He glanced back just in time to seethe beast break into a rapid charge. His hand leaped to the hiltof his long-sword, but he did not draw, for in the same instanthe saw the futility of armed resistance, since behind the firstbanth came a herd of at least a dozen others. There was but asingle alternative to a futile stand and that he grasped in theinstant that he saw the overwhelming numbers of his antagonists.
Springing lightly from the ground he swarmed up the rope towardthe bow of the flier. His weight drew the craft slightly lowerand at the very instant that the man drew himself to the deck atthe bow of the vessel, the leading banth sprang for the stern.Gahan leaped to his feet and rushed toward the great beast in thehope of dislodging it before it had succeeded in clamberingaboard. At the same instant he saw that others of the banths wereracing toward them with the quite evident intention of followingtheir leader to the ship's deck. Should they reach it in anynumbers he would be lost. There was but a single hope. Leapingfor the altitude control Gahan pulled it wide. Simultaneouslythree banths leaped for the deck. The craft rose swiftly. Gahanfelt the impact of a body against the keel, followed by the softthuds of the great bodies as they struck the ground beneath. Hisact had not been an instant too soon. And now the leader hadgained the deck and stood at the stern with glaring eyes andsnarling jaws. Gahan drew his sword. The beast, possiblydisconcerted by the novelty of its position, did not charge.Instead it crept slowly toward its intended prey. The craft wasrising and Gahan placed a foot upon the control and stopped theascent. He did not wish to chance rising to some higher aircurrent that would bear him away. Already the craft was movingslowly toward the tower, carried thither by the impetus of thebanth's heavy body leaping upon it from astern.
The man watched the slow approach of the monster, the slaveringjowls, the malignant expression of the devilish face. Thecreature, finding the deck stable, appeared to be gainingconfidence, and then the man leaped suddenly to one side of thedeck and the tiny flier heeled as suddenly in response. The banthslipped and clutched frantically at the deck. Gahan leaped inwith his naked sword; the great beast caught itself and rearedupon its hind legs to reach forth and seize this presumptuousmortal that dared question its right to the flesh it craved; andthen the man sprang to the opposite side of the deck. The banthtoppled sideways at the same instant that it attempted to spring;a raking talon passed close to Gahan's head at the moment thathis sword lunged through the savage heart, and as the warriorwrenched his blade from the carcass it slipped silently over theside of the ship.
A glance below showed that the vessel was drifting in thedirection of the tower to which Gahan had seen the prisoner led.In another moment or two it would be directly over it. The mansprang to the control and let the craft drop quickly toward theground where followed the banths, still hot for their prey. Toland outside the enclosure spelled certain death, while inside hecould see many forms huddled upon the ground as in sleep. Theship floated now but a few feet above the wall of the enclosure.There was nothing for it but to risk all on a bold bid forfortune, or drift helplessly past without hope of returningthrough the banth-infested valley, from many points of which hecould now hear the roars and growls of these fierce Barsoomianlions.
Slipping over the side Gahan descended by the trailinganchor-rope until his feet touched the top of the wall, where hehad no difficulty in arresting the slow drifting of the ship.Then he drew up the anchor and lowered it inside the enclosure.Still there was no movement upon the part of the sleepersbeneath--they lay as dead men. Dull lights shone from openings inthe tower; but there was no sign of guard or waking inmate.Clinging to the rope Gahan lowered himself within the enclosure,where he had his first close view of the creatures lying there inwhat he had thought sleep. With a half smothered exclamation ofhorror the man drew back from the headless bodies of the rykors.At first he thought them the corpses of decapitated humans likehimself, which was quite bad enough; but when he saw them moveand realized that they were endowed with life, his horror anddisgust became even greater.
Here then was the explanation of the thing he had witnessed thatafternoon, when Tara of Helium had struck the back to its body.And to think that the pearl of Helium was in the power of suchhideous things as these. Again the man shuddered, but he hastenedto make fast the flier, clamber again to its deck and lower it tothe floor of the enclosure. Then he strode toward a door in thebase of the tower, stepping lightly over the recumbent forms ofthe unconscious rykors, and crossing the threshold disappearedwithin.