how I had won the she-ape’s weapons and my freedom. “Do you not believe me?” I demanded at last.
“On this matter I believe you,” she answered with some relief, “but there is still that other affair.”
“What other affair?” I asked.
“Your affair with the young sister of Taliboz. Why did you betray that trusting child—betray her and run away—so that her brother must needs come after you to bring you back at the point of a tork? It was dastardly —cowardly. I denied it—fought against believing it, but there were so many witnesses I was at last convinced.”
“If Taliboz has a sister, I do not know it, nor have I ever seen her. This story was fabricated from whole cloth. There is not even seeming evidence in this case as there was with Chixa.”
“But Taliboz himself told me,” she insisted, “and five of his men substantiated his story at various times. I wanted to disbelieve this thing, but what could I do?”
“You were convinced of a monstrous falsehood, for which Taliboz will one day answer, as he will for his numerous other crimes—if he has not already answered, back there in the fern forest, to some jungle creature. I swear to you that if Taliboz has a sister I do not even know of her existence.”
“It seems strange,” she answered, “that the sister of an illustrious noble’ of Olba should be unknown to the Crown Prince. Surely she must have been much at court.”
“Perhaps she was. Never having been there myself, I cannot say.”
She looked at me in amazement—unbelief so clearly written on her features that I saw that I had gone too far. I must either tell all now, or have nothing believed.
“In order that you may understand this singular statement,” I said, “I am going to tell you who I really am.”
“No doubt you are a reincarnation of the god Thorth. Pray do not weary me further with lies.”
“The story I am going to tell,” I answered, “will tax your credulity to the uttermost, yet I hope some day to be able to prove it to you. I am not of Olba, nor even of this planet.”
I explained to her, as best I could, how I had been transported from Mars to Earth and thence to Venus-Zarovia. To my surprise, she seemed not only credulous, but actually well versed on the subject.
“You seem to know more about these phenomena than most scientists,” I said.
“There is a reason for my intense interest in the subject,” she replied. “My uncle Bovard is one of the greatest scientists on all Zarovia. There is but one who is considered greater than he.”
“Vorn Vangal?”
“Yes, but how did you know?”
“Vorn Vangal,” I answered, “is Dr. Morgan’s Zarovian ally, the man who made it possible for me to come to this planet.” “Dr. Morgan? What an uncivilized sound the name has! Vorn Vangal I know well.”
“Then you believe my story?” I asked.
“Implicitly.” And she smiled thrillingly at me.
“And you know Taliboz was lying?”
“Of course. Are you going to sit there and question me all day, or will you have the royal butler serve dinner? I am famished.”
The roast had grown cold but was nonetheless delicious. I carved as best I could with my flint knife, and we made out very well, finishing up with the contents of a few spore pods, washed down with drafts of cold water from the fronds of the water fern.
“And now,” I said, when we had finished dinner, “we must look about for a place of shelter from the night-roving meat-eaters.”
There were many caverns in the rocky hillsides, but the mouths were too large or too numerous to be barricaded. And an un-barricaded cave in the Zarovian wilderness would prove to be a trap.
We traveled far before we found a cave that seemed suited to our purpose. Without taking time to explore its interior—for I knew that the sudden darkness would soon be upon us—made haste to collect heavy rocks for the doorway, delegating Loralie, meanwhile, to gather sticks for fuel which I intended to keep in the cave as a fiery defense against possible attackers.
Darkness caught us with our labors unfinished, and I kindled a small fire just outside the cave mouth that we might complete our work by its light.
I was just rolling up the great stone which was to finish my barricade when the hideous roar of a marmelot sounded near by. It was taken up, a moment later, by others of its kind, until the echoing hills resounded with the thunderous cries of these fierce beasts.
“Quick!” I called to Loralie. “Into the cave with you!”
She started in, then backed out in terror. “There’s something in there now, and it’s coming out after us.”
Then, as the frightened girl cowered against me, I heard a hoarse, booming croak from the cave and saw two glowing, menacing eyes moving toward us from the darkness of the interior.
Chapter 9
Standing within the ring of light cast by our small fire, with Loralie crouching fearfully at my feet, I fitted an arrow to my bowstring. I drew it back to the head, took careful aim between the two glowing eyes that were advancing from the dark interior of the cave, and let fly.
Immediately after the twang of the bow there came a deep bellow of rage from the interior of the cave.
As I fitted a second arrow in place, there was a terrific roar behind me. Turning, I beheld the gleaming eyes of a marmelot not more than fifty feet distant. I let fly, and the arrow struck the huge feline just as the enraged cave creature came forth.
Prepared as I was for the appearance of one of the fierce creatures of the Zarovian jungle, a chill of horror ran down my spine when the grotesque tenant of the cave waddled out into the light.
It was obviously a reptile—not an animal as I had supposed. Although its entire length was not more than six feet, fully two-thirds of that length was mouth—enormous jaws four feet long and a yard across, armed with row upon row of sharp, back-curved teeth. The other third was a round sack, or pouch, attached to the back of the head.
It walked on two short, thick legs growing from beneath its ears, each armed with three sharp talons. There were no forelegs. Both head and body bristled with a profusion of sharp spines like those of a horned toad.
“A kroger!” cried Loralie. “We are lost!”
As the thing charged toward us with enormous jaws distended, I heard the marmelot bounding through the brush from the opposite direction.
“Come,” I cried, taking the girl’s hand. Together we leaped across the fire and into the shadow of the bushes beyond. Scarcely had we gained this place of temporary safety ere the two formidable creatures, beast and reptile, met on the spot where we had been standing.
The marmelot, apparently surprised at being confronted by this strange anomaly, stopped, spat, and arched its back like a startled cat. But the kroger, undaunted at sight of the huge king of the jungles, which was easily twice its size, charged on. With a snap of its immense jaws, the reptile took in at one bite the head and neck of the mighty carnivore.
Like a cat caught in a salmon tin, the marmelot alternately shook its head, clawed at the scaly throat, or belly—I know not which to call it —and ran blindly about. Presently it rolled over on its back, and drawing the round body of the kroger toward it with its two front legs, literally scratched it to ribbons with its terrible hind claws. Yet the immense jaws held firmly, inexorably; in fact, they seemed to be clamping down tighter and tighter all the time, sinking more deeply into the flesh of the great feline