The planet of peril
The big reptile crouched with its back toward him and its body half out
of the water.
On the floor lay its victim, apparently stone dead, but the creature
seemed in no hurry to devour him. Instead, it was swaying its head back
and forth with neck arched, and from time to time nosing its prey as if
waiting for him to show signs of life, much as a cat worries a mouse.
Presently, much to Grandon's surprise, the victim did sit up, rubbing
his eyes as if he half expected to awaken and find that the thing
before him was only a horrible nightmare. The reptile continued moving
its head to and fro, no doubt waiting for an attempt to run away on the
part of its prey.
The Earth-man raised the muzzle of his tork above the water, pointing
it at the swaying head, and touched the button. At the sound and impact
of the bullet, the creature turned and spied him. Six bullets struck
that ugly head with apparently no more effect than as many fly-bites.
Then, to his amazed horror, Grandon was dealt a crushing blow from
behind that hurled him into a far corner of the cave.
He rose, and leaped just in time to elude the snap of those fearful
jaws. As he dodged about in the cave he learned what it was that had
floored him, for the monster struck at him again with its huge, scaly
tail whenever he stood near its back or sides.
Grandon used his sword at every opportunity and, in one instance,
succeeded in cutting off a portion of the horny snout. Another time he
thought to sever the head from the body by a dexterous blow, but his
weapon glanced off those tough scales as from armor plate.
At length he was driven into a corner from which there was no escape.
The jaws opened to seize him and he lunged out wildly with his sword.
The weapon was jerked from his hand, but the cruel teeth he expected to
feel crushing the life out of him did not materialize. Then he saw the
reason. He had driven his blade through the reptile's left eye and deep
into its brain. After a few convulsive shudders, it keeled over on its
side and lay still.
Bracing his foot against the massive head, he wrenched his sword free,
and turned to face the youth who was timidly approaching him from a far
corner. The latter was evidently bent on thanking him for saving his
life, but Grandon was not in a mood for ceremony.
"Come," he said, "we must get out of here quickly. More of these
monsters may appear any minute, and it was only by a lucky thrust that
I succeeded in dispatching this one."
* * * * *
They moved toward the point from which the dim light emanated, and
found it to be a small hole in the top of the bank. By widening this
with his sword he made it large enough to admit the body of a man, then
boosted his companion through, the latter, in turn, extending a helping
hand to him. Grandon experienced a strange thrill as that hand touched
his. Never had he thrilled at the touch of a human being before, and it
puzzled him greatly.
He looked curiously at his companion, who, he noticed for the first
time, was clad from head to foot in shining scarlet leather. The head
and face were covered by a pointed hood of the same material, so he
could not see the features distinctly.
Acting more from impulse than reason, he reached forward and pulled
back the concealing headpiece, then gasped in rapturous wonder at the
glorious vision he beheld. A radiantly beautiful girl stood before him,
a girl with eyes that were limpid pools of blue, a wealth of shimmering
golden hair and lips whose scarlet vied with that of her brilliant
raiment. Moreover, she was blushing like a bashful schoolgirl under his
ardent gaze, and the blush was most becoming.
For a moment they stood thus--then suddenly she regained her poise,
and glanced up at him with a look of regal hauteur that was most
disconcerting.
"Why did you do that?" she asked icily.
It was Grandon's turn to blush.
"Frankly, I do not know," he replied. "If I have offended I crave your
pardon."
For answer she adjusted the hood once more and, whirling about, strode
off into the forest.
Grandon was at a loss whether to follow, or leave her to go her way
alone as she evidently preferred to do. From his previous experience in
these forests, he was convinced that dangers lay ahead of which she did
not dream. Thus, torn between pride and duty, he stood irresolute until
he heard a faint scream from the direction she had taken.
Galvanized into action by that cry of terror, he rushed madly forward,
cursing his indecision at every step. The thought of that beautiful,
frail creature in the clutches of any of the horrible inhabitants of
the fern forests was awful to contemplate.
To his incalculable relief he saw a moment later that she was alive,
though in grave danger. She was running toward him pursued by a
gigantic brute, new and strange to the Earth-man. In form it somewhat
resembled a grizzly bear, but compared to it in size, a grizzly
shrank into insignificance. It was hairless, and its scaly hide was a
brilliant chlorophyll green above, fading to a greenish yellow below.
Huge saber tusks projected from the upper jaw, adding to the formidable
appearance of the ferocious carnivore.
Grandon aimed his tork carefully and poured forth a stream of
projectiles, fervently praying that they might penetrate that thick
hide. Instead of stopping the brute, they appeared only to accelerate
his speed and increase his ferocity. The panting jaws were scarcely
two feet behind the girl when the beast gave a sudden lurch, turned a
complete somersault and lay motionless on its back, almost at Grandon's
feet. He plunged his sword into the huge carcass again and again in a
mad fury, until the girl laid a hand on his arm.
"Come," she said, "the ramph is dead. He cannot harm us now."
* * * * *
He turned without a word and, together, they walked back among the
lengthening shadows toward the river's edge. Owing to the recent
cloud-burst the current was abnormally swift, carrying the floating
storm débris past them at express train speed. There were great,
uprooted trees by the hundreds, detached branches and leaves of various
sizes and kinds, and a number of huge toadstools, some of which had
been uprooted, but a majority of which had broken off where stem and
cap joined.
As they stood there on the brink the cap of a great orange-colored
toadstool was caught in an eddy and whirled against the shore. The
stem had been broken off completely, and it formed a water-tight basin
about twelve feet in diameter. Grandon leaped forward and hauled it in.
"What are you going to do with that?" asked the girl.
"If I can cut a suitable paddle," replied Grandon, "I believe I can
make it serve as a boat to convey us across the river, where I have
reason to suspect your friends, as well as mine, are located."
He looked about until he found a strong branch that suited his purpose,
then made a most serviceable paddle by using the limb for the handle
and the base of the broad leaf for the blade.
"Come," said Grandon. "We must start quickly if we would gain the other
shore before dark."
The girl shuddered.
"Would you prefer to stay here?" he asked. "Perhaps I was too hasty in
assuming that you wished to return to your friends."
"No. It is not that. I wish to return, but for the moment I dreaded
crossing that river full of monsters in such a frail craft. Why, there
are enormous reptiles in that stream that would destroy it in an
instant."
"In that case," replied Grandon, "we will stay here."
"What? Do you also fear them?" There was a note of surprise in her
voice, and it seemed to be slightly tinged with disdain.
"Not for my own sake, but for yours," he answered. "If you wish to go I
will take you. If not, we will remain. You shall decide."
"Then let us at least make the endeavor," she said. "After all, there
may be greater dangers behind us than those which lie ahead. When I
think of the ferocious night-roaming beasts that will soon fill the
forest at our back, I believe that the flood and the reptiles are to be
preferred."
She stepped aboard, and Grandon pushed off, wading out to where the
water was breast-deep before climbing up beside her in order to clear
the eddy which might again carry the craft shoreward.
The Earth-man had taken many canoe trips, and anticipated trouble in
crossing the stream, but he had not considered the difference in shape
between a canoe and the inverted cap of a Zarovian toadstool. Instead
of making the headway he anticipated, he found himself merely going
around in a circle.
It was some time before he found a way simultaneously to guide and
propel his awkward craft, which he accomplished by standing on the side
toward which he wished to go and scooping the water toward him. They
laboriously reached midstream after about an hour's hard paddling, but
in the interim the swift current had carried them many miles from their
starting point. Then, to Grandon's consternation, the paddle broke.
"I guess we're in for it now," he said dejectedly. "Fool that I was to
risk your life in this overgrown bowl."
"What of your own life?" she replied. "You are running no less risk
than I."
* * * * *
As she spoke darkness descended, the black, moonless darkness of Venus;
nor could they see aught around them, save a faint shimmer here and
there on the surface of the water, when the light of some distant
star, for a moment visible through a break in the ever-present cloud
envelope, was faintly reflected on its raging bosom.
Grandon sat in moody silence, straining his eyes in his effort to
penetrate the surrounding gloom, his ears on the alert for any sound
which might indicate the presence of some dangerous reptilian.
Presently a soft hand sought his, and clung there. Again he felt that
delicious, mysterious thrill that sent the blood coursing madly through
his veins.
"What is it?" he asked, hoarsely, endeavoring to still the quiver of
emotion that suddenly took possession of his vocal cords.
"I am tired--or, so tired. And--yes, frightened. To think that _I_
should be frightened!"
"Here," he said, stripping off his cloak and rolling it into a pillow.
"I have been inexcusably thoughtless. Now lie with your head on this
pillow, so, and try to get some sleep. I will keep watch."
He withdrew a little way and once more sat quietly with senses alert
for the slightest sound or sign of hostile attack. The girl seemed
unable to sleep. He heard her moving restlessly from time to time, but
some twenty minutes passed before she spoke.
"When I was a little girl," she said, "I was afraid of one thing
only--the dark. My memory of that period is divided, not by months
and years, but by the times when my father was campaigning in distant
countries, and those when he was not, for when he was home he used
always to sit at my bedside and hold my hand until I slept. Somehow, I
feel to-night as I did when a little girl. If you will sit here beside
me and take my hand in yours I shall not feel afraid."
"How like a little child she is," thought Grandon as he moved closer
and took her hand. Aloud he said: "Now, go to sleep. You must rest, for
we know not what is before us, and the opportunity may not come again
very soon."
It was some time before her regular breathing, scarcely audible above
the sound of the rushing waters, told him that she slept.
The long, dark night was one of mixed emotions for Grandon. There was
pleasure for him in the nearness of the girl and the feel of her small
hand, but with this there was the awful suspense of waiting--listening
for the expected attack by one or more of the fearful creatures he
could hear disporting themselves in the water around their fragile