Drome/Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Another!
I jerked out my revolver, took swift aim, right between those great blazing eyes, and fired.
There was a fearful roar, which seemed to end in a scream, and the long snaky head and neck (no more of the animal had been visible) disappeared.
"Good work, Bill!" applauded Rhodes.
But he had spoken too soon. Hardly had the words left his lips when the monster came. A dark form, with a gleam of something white, rose into the air and came driving straight toward us. I sprang aside and turned to fire but did not do so for fear of hitting the Dromans or Rhodes. There was a heavy, sickening thud; a piercing shriek from Drorathusa, the sound of rending cloth. The monster had her!
I leaped toward it and emptied the revolver into its side, whilst Narkus and Thumbra sent each an arrow into the body. That of the former was driven with such force that the feathered end of the shaft must have been half-way through the lungs. And down the tiling fell dead, though still quivering, there in our very midst.
I turned and hurried to Drorathusa. Rhodes was already beside her. The claws of the monster had ripped her dress, from the thigh down, literally into ribbons; strangely enough, the flesh had escaped even a scratch.
Drorathusa was badly shaken, and little wonder, forsooth. It had been a miraculous escape from terrible injury, from a most horrible death. A few moments, however, and she was as composed as though nothing had happened. Truly there was much to admire in this extraordinary woman.
Rhodes and I turned and examined the body, now lying quite still. It was that of an enormous cat. Strictly speaking, it was not, I suppose, a cat; it was not like anything that we had ever seen or heard of. But a eat I shall call it, not knowing what other word to use. The head was long and of an aspect strikingly, repulsively snakelike. This reptilian resemblance was enhanced by the head's being absolutely destitute of hair, save for the vibrissae, which were really enormous. The body was a dull, shadowy gray and most curiously mottled The breast and the belly were snowy white.
"Hum," said Milton Rhodes. "A strange and terrible creature, Bill. This wilderness must be a real one when we find a carnivore like this—and goodness only knows what others—subsisting in it."
"Yes. And, with such creatures in the woods, our journey through them is likely to prove an interesting one."
"Oh, well," said Rhodes, "we have our revolvers, and the Dromans have their bows and arrows, to say nothing of the swords. And they know how to use them, too."
"And that reminds be," I told him: "I haven't reloaded my blunderbuss."
"Save those shells, Bill."
"What for?"
"So we can reload them."
"Reload them? Do you think we'll be able to do that in this world called Drome."
"Why not?"
"But how?"
Rhodes turned like a flash.
"Hear that?" he said. "By the great Nimrod, another one!"
The darkness still lay impenetrable, pitchy. We flashed our lights into the trees, this way and that, all about us; but no eyes were seen gleaming at us, nothing moving save the shadows, and not the faintest sound was heard.
The Dromans were listening intently, but it was patent that they had not heard that sound which had whirled Rhodes about; nor had I heard it myself.
"Sure," I queried, "that there was a sound?"
"I certainly thought that I heard something."
"Look!" I cried, pointing upward.
Through the openings in the foliage, pale flickerings of light were to be seen.
"Thank goodness," Rhodes said, "we'll soon have it again!"
And we soon did—the strong, mystic, and yet strangely misty, light pervading the mysterious and dreadful wood, the flickerings and flashes overhead soon opalescent and beautiful as ever.
We at once (Narkus and Thumbra having drawn their arrows from the body of the cat) left that spot, to make our way deeper and deeper into that weird forest, which harbored enemies so terrible and so treacherous.
"Why," I queried, "didn't we camp up there on the rocks, where it would have been impossible (save in darkness) for anything to approach us unseen? We had made a day's good journey; and here we have gone and left a place of safety to camp somewhere in this horrible wood."
"What," returned Rhodes, "would that have been but postponing the inevitable? For into these trees we should have had to go, sooner or later, and the thing would have been watching for us just the same. As you say, we had made a good journey for the day; well, aren't we making it better?"
"It isn't ended yet."
"This place, after all, Bill, may not be so bad as it seems."
"Well, there is one consolation," I remarked: "there is no danger of our starving to death in this lovely Dante's Inferno. Look at all the fruit and nuts and things."
"Yes. From that point of view, the place is a veritable Garden of the Hesperides."
At length we reached the stream,
considerably larger than I had
expected to find it. At this point
where we struck it, the water was
deep, the current a gentle one. The
rich forest growth hung out over the
surface for some distance. There
was a soft rustling of leaves, for some
of the branches dipped into the water
and were swaying to and fro. This
and the faint, melancholy whisper of
the gliding element were all that
broke the heavy deathlike stillness.
It was a placid, lovely scene.
The attainment of this their objective seemed to give our Dromans much pleasure; but, save for the fact that there was now no danger of our perishing of thirst, I could not see that we were any better off than we had been.
I thought that this would be the end of our march, now a long one indeed. But the Dromans merely paused, then started down the stream; and, of course, along with them went Rhodes and myself. At times we had literally to force our way through the dense and tangled undergrowth; then we would be moving through lovely aisles—
"And many a walk traversed
Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm."
We pushed on for perhaps two miles, never moving far from the stream, and then made camp in a beautiful open spot, over which, however, the great branches formed an unbroken canopy of leaves.
A guard was arranged for the night. Rhodes had the first watch.
It was during my vigil that it came—a sudden, fierce, frightful scream, which awoke every member of our little party. It came from somewhere down the river and was replete with terror and agony, a sound that made the very air quiver and throb. It seemed human, and yet I told myself that it simply could not be. And then it ceased, as suddenly as it had come, and all was still again, save for the gentle, sad whispering of the water.
"What," I exclaimed, my voice, however, low and guarded, "was it? It sounded human, but I know that that sound did not come from the throat of a man or a woman."
"It wasn't human, Bill. What it was—well, that seems to be a mystery even to the Dromans."
I turned and saw Drorathusa, who had just issued from the tent, standing beside Narkus and engaged in hurried and whispered dialogue, the troubled looks which she incessantly directed into the forest, in that quarter whence had come that fearful sound, advertising dread and something for which I can not find a name.
"Evidently," Rhodes observed, "they know but little more about this place and the things in it than we do ourselves."
"And that is virtually nothing."
"Did you," he asked suddenly, "hear something else?"
"Something else? When?"
"Something besides that scream. And while it was filling the air—and just afterward."
"I heard nothing else. Did you?"
"I believe that I did."
"What?"
"I can not say," was his answer.
"I wish that I could."
"Well," said I, "all we know is that there is something sneaking or prowling about in this wood, that it has just got a victim and that, in all probability, it means to get one of us—or all."
Rhodes nodded, rather rueful of visage.
"We were fortunate enough," he said, "to kill one monster; I wonder if we shall be as fortunate the second time. For there is another waiting perhaps—biding its time."
An icy shudder went through me. Another? Yes; but another what?
Chapter 35
A Scream and—Silence
I am afraid that no one slept very well after that.
It was about 7 o'clock when we left that place. And I confess that I was more uneasy, more troubled than I would have eared to acknowledge. For we were headed toward the spot—at any rate, in the direction—whence had come that frightful scream. What would we find there, or would we find anything?
We did.
We had gone about an eighth of a mile. The disposition of our little party was as it had been the day before—Rhodes and Narkus, that is, were in the lead, followed by Drorathusa, then came Delphis and Siris, whilst Thumbra and myself formed the rear-guard. Had my own wishes in the matter been followed, Rhodes and I would have been together. The formation assumed was, as I believe I have mentioned, the one that Drorathusa desired. The idea, of course, was to have the front and the rear protected each by one of the mysterious weapons of the mysterious strange-men—weapons undoubtedly far more formidable in the imagination of Drorathusa and her companions than they were in reality.
Certainly our revolvers were in every way excellent weapons, but I could not help wishing that they carried a more powerful bullet.
As has been said, we had proceeded about a furlong. The dense and tangled undergrowth had forced us away from the stream, to a distance of perhaps three hundred feet.
At the moment a sound had fetched me up and my exclamation had brought the party to a sudden halt.
"What is it?" Rhodes asked.
"We are being followed!"