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Out of Time's Abyss

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

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Out of Time's Abyss

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

Chapter I

This is the tale of Bradley after he left Fort Dinosaur upon the

west coast of the great lake that is in the center of the island.

Upon the fourth day of September, 1916, he set out with four

companions, Sinclair, Brady, James, and Tippet, to search along

the base of the barrier cliffs for a point at which they might

be scaled.

Through the heavy Caspakian air, beneath the swollen sun, the

five men marched northwest from Fort Dinosaur, now waist-deep

in lush, jungle grasses starred with myriad gorgeous blooms, now

across open meadow-land and parklike expanses and again plunging

into dense forests of eucalyptus and acacia and giant arboreous

ferns with feathered fronds waving gently a hundred feet above

their heads.

About them upon the ground, among the trees and in the air over

them moved and swung and soared the countless forms of Caspak's

teeming life. Always were they menaced by some frightful thing

and seldom were their rifles cool, yet even in the brief time

they had dwelt upon Caprona they had become callous to danger,

so that they swung along laughing and chatting like soldiers on

a summer hike.

"This reminds me of South Clark Street," remarked Brady, who had

once served on the traffic squad in Chicago; and as no one asked

him why, he volunteered that it was "because it's no place for

an Irishman."

"South Clark Street and heaven have something in common, then,"

suggested Sinclair. James and Tippet laughed, and then a hideous

growl broke from a dense thicket ahead and diverted their

attention to other matters.

"One of them behemoths of 'Oly Writ," muttered Tippet as they came

to a halt and with guns ready awaited the almost inevitable charge.

"Hungry lot o' beggars, these," said Bradley; "always trying to

eat everything they see."

For a moment no further sound came from the thicket. "He may be

feeding now," suggested Bradley. "We'll try to go around him.

Can't waste ammunition. Won't last forever. Follow me." And he

set off at right angles to their former course, hoping to avert

a charge. They had taken a dozen steps, perhaps, when the

thicket moved to the advance of the thing within it, the leafy

branches parted, and the hideous head of a gigantic bear emerged.

"Pick your trees," whispered Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The men looked about them. The bear took a couple of steps

forward, still growling menacingly. He was exposed to the

shoulders now. Tippet took one look at the monster and bolted

for the nearest tree; and then the bear charged. He charged

straight for Tippet. The other men scattered for the various

trees they had selected--all except Bradley. He stood watching

Tippet and the bear. The man had a good start and the tree was

not far away; but the speed of the enormous creature behind him

was something to marvel at, yet Tippet was in a fair way to make

his sanctuary when his foot caught in a tangle of roots and down

he went, his rifle flying from his hand and falling several

yards away. Instantly Bradley's piece was at his shoulder, there

was a sharp report answered by a roar of mingled rage and pain

from the carnivore. Tippet attempted to scramble to his feet.

"Lie still!" shouted Bradley. "Can't waste ammunition."

The bear halted in its tracks, wheeled toward Bradley and then

back again toward Tippet. Again the former's rifle spit angrily,

and the bear turned again in his direction. Bradley shouted

loudly. "Come on, you behemoth of Holy Writ!" he cried. "Come on,

you duffer! Can't waste ammunition." And as he saw the bear

apparently upon the verge of deciding to charge him, he

encouraged the idea by backing rapidly away, knowing that an

angry beast will more often charge one who moves than one who

lies still.

And the bear did charge. Like a bolt of lightning he flashed

down upon the Englishman. "Now run!" Bradley called to Tippet

and himself turned in flight toward a nearby tree. The other

men, now safely ensconced upon various branches, watched the race

with breathless interest. Would Bradley make it? It seemed

scarce possible. And if he didn't! James gasped at the thought.

Six feet at the shoulder stood the frightful mountain of

blood-mad flesh and bone and sinew that was bearing down with the

speed of an express train upon the seemingly slow-moving man.

It all happened in a few seconds; but they were seconds that

seemed like hours to the men who watched. They saw Tippet leap

to his feet at Bradley's shouted warning. They saw him run,

stooping to recover his rifle as he passed the spot where it

had fallen. They saw him glance back toward Bradley, and then they

saw him stop short of the tree that might have given him safety

and turn back in the direction of the bear. Firing as he ran,

Tippet raced after the great cave bear--the monstrous thing that

should have been extinct ages before--ran for it and fired even

as the beast was almost upon Bradley. The men in the trees

scarcely breathed. It seemed to them such a futile thing for

Tippet to do, and Tippet of all men! They had never looked upon

Tippet as a coward--there seemed to be no cowards among that

strangely assorted company that Fate had gathered together from

the four corners of the earth--but Tippet was considered a

cautious man. Overcautious, some thought him. How futile he and

his little pop-gun appeared as he dashed after that living engine

of destruction! But, oh, how glorious! It was some such thought

as this that ran through Brady's mind, though articulated it

might have been expressed otherwise, albeit more forcefully.

Just then it occurred to Brady to fire and he, too, opened upon

the bear, but at the same instant the animal stumbled and fell

forward, though still growling most fearsomely. Tippet never

stopped running or firing until he stood within a foot of the

brute, which lay almost touching Bradley and was already

struggling to regain its feet. Placing the muzzle of his gun

against the bear's ear, Tippet pulled the trigger. The creature

sank limply to the ground and Bradley scrambled to his feet.

"Good work, Tippet," he said. "Mightily obliged to you--awful

waste of ammunition, really."

And then they resumed the march and in fifteen minutes the

encounter had ceased even to be a topic of conversation.

For two days they continued upon their perilous way. Already the

cliffs loomed high and forbidding close ahead without sign of

break to encourage hope that somewhere they might be scaled.

Late in the afternoon the party crossed a small stream of warm

water upon the sluggishly moving surface of which floated

countless millions of tiny green eggs surrounded by a light scum

of the same color, though of a darker shade. Their past

experience of Caspak had taught them that they might expect to

come upon a stagnant pool of warm water if they followed the

stream to its source; but there they were almost certain to find

some of Caspak's grotesque, manlike creatures. Already since

they had disembarked from the U-33 after its perilous trip

through the subterranean channel beneath the barrier cliffs had

brought them into the inland sea of Caspak, had they encountered

what had appeared to be three distinct types of these creatures.

There had been the pure apes--huge, gorillalike beasts--and those

who walked, a trifle more erect and had features with just a

shade more of the human cast about them. Then there were men

like Ahm, whom they had captured and confined at the fort--Ahm,

the club-man. "Well-known club-man," Tyler had called him. Ahm

and his people had knowledge of a speech. They had a language,

in which they were unlike the race just inferior to them, and

they walked much more erect and were less hairy: but it was

principally the fact that they possessed a spoken language and

carried a weapon that differentiated them from the others.

All of these peoples had proven belligerent in the extreme. In

common with the rest of the fauna of Caprona the first law of

nature as they seemed to understand it was to kill--kill--kill.

And so it was that Bradley had no desire to follow up the little

stream toward the pool near which were sure to be the caves of

some savage tribe, but fortune played him an unkind trick, for

the pool was much closer than he imagined, its southern end

reaching fully a mile south of the point at which they crossed

the stream, and so it was that after forcing their way through a

tangle of jungle vegetation they came out upon the edge of the

pool which they had wished to avoid.

Almost simultaneously there appeared south of them a party of

naked men armed with clubs and hatchets. Both parties halted as

they caught sight of one another. The men from the fort saw

before them a hunting party evidently returning to its caves or

village laden with meat. They were large men with features

closely resembling those of the African Negro though their

skins were white. Short hair grew upon a large portion of their

limbs and bodies, which still retained a considerable trace of

apish progenitors. They were, however, a distinctly higher type

than the Bo-lu, or club-men.

Bradley would have been glad to have averted a meeting; but as he

desired to lead his party south around the end of the pool, and

as it was hemmed in by the jungle on one side and the water on

the other, there seemed no escape from an encounter.

On the chance that he might avoid a clash, Bradley stepped

forward with upraised hand. "We are friends, " he called in the

tongue of Ahm, the Bolu, who had been held a prisoner at the

fort; "permit us to pass in peace. We will not harm you."

At this the hatchet-men set up a great jabbering with much

laughter, loud and boisterous. "No," shouted one, "you will not

harm us, for we shall kill you. Come! We kill! We kill!"

And with hideous shouts they charged down upon the Europeans.

"Sinclair, you may fire," said Bradley quietly." Pick off

the leader. Can't waste ammunition."

The Englishman raised his piece to his shoulder and took quick

aim at the breast of the yelling savage leaping toward them.

Directly behind the leader came another hatchet-man, and with the

report of Sinclair's rifle both warriors lunged forward in the

tall grass, pierced by the same bullet. The effect upon the rest

of the band was electrical. As one man they came to a sudden

halt, wheeled to the east and dashed into the jungle, where the

men could hear them forcing their way in an effort to put as much

distance as possible between themselves and the authors of this

new and frightful noise that killed warriors at a great distance.

Both the savages were dead when Bradley approached to examine

them, and as the Europeans gathered around, other eyes were bent

upon them with greater curiosity than they displayed for the

victim of Sinclair's bullet. When the party again took up the

march around the southern end of the pool the owner of the eyes

followed them--large, round eyes, almost expressionless except

for a certain cold cruelty which glinted malignly from under

their pale gray irises.

All unconscious of the stalker, the men came, late in the

afternoon, to a spot which seemed favorable as a campsite.

A cold spring bubbled from the base of a rocky formation which

overhung and partially encircled a small inclosure. At Bradley's

command, the men took up the duties assigned them--gathering

wood, building a cook-fire and preparing the evening meal.

It was while they were thus engaged that Brady's attention was

attracted by the dismal flapping of huge wings. He glanced up,

expecting to see one of the great flying reptiles of a bygone

age, his rifle ready in his hand. Brady was a brave man. He had

groped his way up narrow tenement stairs and taken an armed

maniac from a dark room without turning a hair; but now as he

looked up, he went white and staggered back.

"Gawd!" he almost screamed. "What is it?"

Attracted by Brady's cry the others seized their rifles as they

followed his wide-eyed, frozen gaze, nor was there one of them

that was not moved by some species of terror or awe. Then Brady

spoke again in an almost inaudible voice. "Holy Mother protect

us--it's a banshee!"

Bradley, always cool almost to indifference in the face of

danger, felt a strange, creeping sensation run over his flesh, as

slowly, not a hundred feet above them, the thing flapped itself

across the sky, its huge, round eyes glaring down upon them.

And until it disappeared over the tops of the trees of a near-by

wood the five men stood as though paralyzed, their eyes never

leaving the weird shape; nor never one of them appearing to recall

that he grasped a loaded rifle in his hands.

With the passing of the thing, came the reaction. Tippet sank to

the ground and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Gord," he moaned.

"Tyke me awy from this orful plice." Brady, recovered from the

first shock, swore loud and luridly. He called upon all the

saints to witness that he was unafraid and that anybody with half

an eye could have seen that the creature was nothing more than

"one av thim flyin' alligators" that they all were familiar with.

"Yes," said Sinclair with fine sarcasm, "we've saw so many of

them with white shrouds on 'em."

"Shut up, you fool!" growled Brady. "If you know so much, tell

us what it was after bein' then."

Then he turned toward Bradley. "What was it, sor, do you think?"

he asked.

Bradley shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "It looked like

a winged human being clothed in a flowing white robe. Its face

was more human than otherwise. That is the way it looked to me;

but what it really was I can't even guess, for such a creature is

as far beyond my experience or knowledge as it is beyond yours.

All that I am sure of is that whatever else it may have been, it

was quite material--it was no ghost; rather just another of the

strange forms of life which we have met here and with which we

should be accustomed by this time."

Tippet looked up. His face was still ashy. "Yer cawn't tell

me," he cried. "Hi seen hit. Blime, Hi seen hit. Hit was ha

dead man flyin' through the hair. Didn't Hi see 'is heyes?

Oh, Gord! Didn't Hi see 'em?"

"It didn't look like any beast or reptile to me," spoke up Sinclair.

"It was lookin' right down at me when I looked up and I saw its

face plain as I see yours. It had big round eyes that looked all

cold and dead, and its cheeks were sunken in deep, and I could see

its yellow teeth behind thin, tight-drawn lips--like a man who had

been dead a long while, sir," he added, turning toward Bradley.

"Yes!" James had not spoken since the apparition had passed over them,

and now it was scarce speech which he uttered--rather a series of

articulate gasps. "Yes--dead--a--long--while. It--means something.

It--come--for some--one. For one--of

us. One--of us is goin'--

to die. I'm goin' to die!" he ended in a wail.

"Come! Come!" snapped Bradley. "Won't do. Won't do at all.

Get to work, all of you. Waste of time. Can't waste time."

His authoritative tones brought them all up standing, and

presently each was occupied with his own duties; but each worked

in silence and there was no singing and no bantering such as had

marked the making of previous camps. Not until they had eaten

and to each had been issued the little ration of smoking tobacco

allowed after each evening meal did any sign of a relaxation of

taut nerves appear. It was Brady who showed the first signs of

returning good spirits. He commenced humming "It's a Long Way to

Tipperary" and presently to voice the words, but he was well into

his third song before anyone joined him, and even then there

seemed a dismal note in even the gayest of tunes.

A huge fire blazed in the opening of their rocky shelter that the

prowling carnivora might be kept at bay; and always one man stood

on guard, watchfully alert against a sudden rush by some maddened

beast of the jungle. Beyond the fire, yellow-green spots of

flame appeared, moved restlessly about, disappeared and

reappeared, accompanied by a hideous chorus of screams and growls

and roars as the hungry meat-eaters hunting through the night

were attracted by the light or the scent of possible prey.

But to such sights and sounds as these the five men had

become callous. They sang or talked as unconcernedly as they

might have done in the bar-room of some publichouse at home.

Sinclair was standing guard. The others were listening to

Brady's description of traffic congestion at the Rush Street

bridge during the rush hour at night. The fire crackled cheerily.

The owners of the yellow-green eyes raised their frightful chorus

to the heavens. Conditions seemed again to have returned to normal.

And then, as though the hand of Death had reached out and touched

them all, the five men tensed into sudden rigidity.

Above the nocturnal diapason of the teeming jungle sounded a

dismal flapping of wings and over head, through the thick night,

a shadowy form passed across the diffused light of the flaring

camp-fire. Sinclair raised his rifle and fired. An eerie wail

floated down from above and the apparition, whatever it might

have been, was swallowed by the darkness. For several seconds

the listening men heard the sound of those dismally flapping wings

lessening in the distance until they could no longer be heard.

Bradley was the first to speak. "Shouldn't have fired,

Sinclair," he said; "can't waste ammunition." But there was

no note of censure in his tone. It was as though he understood

the nervous reaction that had compelled the other's act.

"I couldn't help it, sir," said Sinclair. "Lord, it would take

an iron man to keep from shootin' at that awful thing. Do you

believe in ghosts, sir?"

"No," replied Bradley. "No such things."

"I don't know about that," said Brady. "There was a woman

murdered over on the prairie near Brighton--her throat was cut

from ear to ear, and--"

"Shut up," snapped Bradley.

"My grandaddy used to live down Coppington wy," said Tippet.

"They were a hold ruined castle on a 'ill near by, hand at midnight

they used to see pale blue lights through the windows an 'ear--"

"Will you close your hatch!" demanded Bradley. "You fools will

have yourselves scared to death in a minute. Now go to sleep."

But there was little sleep in camp that night until utter

exhaustion overtook the harassed men toward morning; nor was

there any return of the weird creature that had set the nerves of

each of them on edge.

The following forenoon the party reached the base of the barrier

cliffs and for two days marched northward in an effort to

discover a break in the frowning abutment that raised its rocky

face almost perpendicularly above them, yet nowhere was there the

slightest indication that the cliffs were scalable.

Disheartened, Bradley determined to turn back toward the fort, as

he already had exceeded the time decided upon by Bowen Tyler and

himself for the expedition. The cliffs for many miles had been

trending in a northeasterly direction, indicating to Bradley that

they were approaching the northern extremity of the island.

According to the best of his calculations they had made

sufficient easting during the past two days to have brought them

to a point almost directly north of Fort Dinosaur and as nothing

could be gained by retracing their steps along the base of the

cliffs he decided to strike due south through the unexplored

country between them and the fort.

That night (September 9, 1916), they made camp a short distance

from the cliffs beside one of the numerous cool springs that are

to be found within Caspak, oftentimes close beside the still

more numerous warm and hot springs which feed the many pools.

After supper the men lay smoking and chatting among themselves.

Tippet was on guard. Fewer night prowlers threatened them, and

the men were commenting upon the fact that the farther north they

had traveled the smaller the number of all species of animals

became, though it was still present in what would have seemed

appalling plenitude in any other part of the world. The diminution

in reptilian life was the most noticeable change in the fauna of

northern Caspak. Here, however, were forms they had not met

elsewhere, several of which were of gigantic proportions.

According to their custom all, with the exception of the man on

guard, sought sleep early, nor, once disposed upon the ground for

slumber, were they long in finding it. It seemed to Bradley that

he had scarcely closed his eyes when he was brought to his feet,

wide awake, by a piercing scream which was punctuated by the

sharp report of a rifle from the direction of the fire where

Tippet stood guard. As he ran toward the man, Bradley heard

above him the same uncanny wail that had set every nerve on edge

several nights before, and the dismal flapping of huge wings.

He did not need to look up at the white-shrouded figure winging

slowly away into the night to know that their grim visitor

had returned.

The muscles of his arm, reacting to the sight and sound of the

menacing form, carried his hand to the butt of his pistol; but

after he had drawn the weapon, he immediately returned it to its

holster with a shrug.

"What for?" he muttered. "Can't waste ammunition." Then he

walked quickly to where Tippet lay sprawled upon his face.

By this time James, Brady and Sinclair were at his heels, each

with his rifle in readiness.

"Is he dead, sir?" whispered James as Bradley kneeled beside the

prostrate form.

Bradley turned Tippet over on his back and pressed an ear close

to the other's heart. In a moment he raised his head.

"Fainted," he announced. "Get water. Hurry!" Then he loosened

Tippet's shirt at the throat and when the water was brought,

threw a cupful in the man's face. Slowly Tippet regained

consciousness and sat up. At first he looked curiously into the

faces of the men about him; then an expression of terror

overspread his features. He shot a startled glance up into the

black void above and then burying his face in his arms began to

sob like a child.

"What's wrong, man?" demanded Bradley. "Buck up! Can't play

cry-baby. Waste of energy. What happened?"

"Wot 'appened, sir!" wailed Tippet. "Oh, Gord, sir! Hit came back.

Hit came for me, sir. Right hit did, sir; strite hat me, sir;

hand with long w'ite 'ands it clawed for me. Oh, Gord! Hit almost

caught me, sir. Hi'm has good as dead; Hi'm a marked man; that's

wot Hi ham. Hit was a-goin' for to carry me horf, sir."

"Stuff and nonsense," snapped Bradley. "Did you get a good look

at it?"

Tippet said that he did--a much better look than he wanted.

The thing had almost clutched him, and he had looked straight

into its eyes--"dead heyes in a dead face," he had described them.

"Wot was it after bein', do you think?" inquired Brady.

"Hit was Death," moaned Tippet, shuddering, and again a pall of

gloom fell upon the little party.

The following day Tippet walked as one in a trance. He never

spoke except in reply to a direct question, which more often than

not had to be repeated before it could attract his attention.

He insisted that he was already a dead man, for if the thing didn't

come for him during the day he would never live through another

night of agonized apprehension, waiting for the frightful end

that he was positive was in store for him. "I'll see to that,"

he said, and they all knew that Tippet meant to take his own life

before darkness set in.

Bradley tried to reason with him, in his short, crisp way, but

soon saw the futility of it; nor could he take the man's weapons

from him without subjecting him to almost certain death from any

of the numberless dangers that beset their way.

The entire party was moody and glum. There was none of the

bantering that had marked their intercourse before, even in the

face of blighting hardships and hideous danger. This was a new

menace that threatened them, something that they couldn't

explain; and so, naturally, it aroused within them superstitious

fear which Tippet's attitude only tended to augment. To add

further to their gloom, their way led through a dense forest,

where, on account of the underbrush, it was difficult to make

even a mile an hour. Constant watchfulness was required to avoid

the many snakes of various degrees of repulsiveness and enormity

that infested the wood; and the only ray of hope they had to

cling to was that the forest would, like the majority of

Caspakian forests, prove to be of no considerable extent.

Bradley was in the lead when he came suddenly upon a grotesque

creature of Titanic proportions. Crouching among the trees,

which here commenced to thin out slightly, Bradley saw what

appeared to be an enormous dragon devouring the carcass of

a mammoth. From frightful jaws to the tip of its long tail it

was fully forty feet in length. Its body was covered with plates

of thick skin which bore a striking resemblance to armor-plate.

The creature saw Bradley almost at the same instant that he saw

it and reared up on its enormous hind legs until its head towered

a full twenty-five feet above the ground. From the cavernous

jaws issued a hissing sound of a volume equal to the escaping steam

from the safety-valves of half a dozen locomotives, and then the

creature came for the man.

"Scatter!" shouted Bradley to those behind him; and all but

Tippet heeded the warning. The man stood as though dazed, and

when Bradley saw the other's danger, he too stopped and wheeling

about sent a bullet into the massive body forcing its way through

the trees toward him. The shot struck the creature in the belly

where there was no protecting armor, eliciting a new note which

rose in a shrill whistle and ended in a wail. It was then that

Tippet appeared to come out of his trance, for with a cry of

terror he turned and fled to the left. Bradley, seeing that he

had as good an opportunity as the others to escape, now turned his

attention to extricating himself; and as the woods seemed dense

on the right, he ran in that direction, hoping that the close-set

boles would prevent pursuit on the part of the great reptile.

The dragon paid no further attention to him, however, for Tippet's

sudden break for liberty had attracted its attention; and after

Tippet it went, bowling over small trees, uprooting underbrush

and leaving a wake behind it like that of a small tornado.

Bradley, the moment he had discovered the thing was pursuing

Tippet, had followed it. He was afraid to fire for fear of

hitting the man, and so it was that he came upon them at the very

moment that the monster lunged its great weight forward upon the

doomed man. The sharp, three-toed talons of the forelimbs seized

poor Tippet, and Bradley saw the unfortunate fellow lifted high

above the ground as the creature again reared up on its hind

legs, immediately transferring Tippet's body to its gaping jaws,

which closed with a sickening, crunching sound as Tippet's bones

cracked beneath the great teeth.

Bradley half raised his rifle to fire again and then lowered it

with a shake of his head. Tippet was beyond succor--why waste a

bullet that Caspak could never replace? If he could now escape

the further notice of the monster it would be a wiser act than to

throw his life away in futile revenge. He saw that the reptile

was not looking in his direction, and so he slipped noiselessly

behind the bole of a large tree and thence quietly faded away in

the direction he believed the others to have taken. At what he

considered a safe distance he halted and looked back. Half hidden

by the intervening trees he still could see the huge head and the

massive jaws from which protrude the limp legs of the dead man.

Then, as though struck by the hammer of Thor, the creature

collapsed and crumpled to the ground. Bradley's single bullet,

penetrating the body through the soft skin of the belly, had slain

the Titan.

A few minutes later, Bradley found the others of the party.

The four returned cautiously to the spot where the creature lay

and after convincing themselves that it was quite dead, came close

to it. It was an arduous and gruesome job extricating Tippet's

mangled remains from the powerful jaws, the men working for the

most part silently.

"It was the work of the banshee all right," muttered Brady.

"It warned poor Tippet, it did."

"Hit killed him, that's wot hit did, hand hit'll kill some more

of us," said James, his lower lip trembling.

"If it was a ghost," interjected Sinclair, "and I don't say as it

was; but if it was, why, it could take on any form it wanted to.

It might have turned itself into this thing, which ain't no

natural thing at all, just to get poor Tippet. If it had of been

a lion or something else humanlike it wouldn't look so strange;

but this here thing ain't humanlike. There ain't no such thing

an' never was."

"Bullets don't kill ghosts," said Bradley, "so this couldn't have

been a ghost. Furthermore, there are no such things. I've been

trying to place this creature. Just succeeded. It's a tyrannosaurus.

Saw picture of skeleton in magazine. There's one in New York

Natural History Museum. Seems to me it said it was found in place

called Hell Creek somewhere in western North America. Supposed to

have lived about six million years ago."

"Hell Creek's in Montana," said Sinclair. "I used to punch cows

in Wyoming, an' I've heard of Hell Creek. Do you s'pose that

there thing's six million years old?" His tone was skeptical.

"No," replied Bradley; "But it would indicate that the island

of Caprona has stood almost without change for more than six

million years."

The conversation and Bradley's assurance that the creature was

not of supernatural origin helped to raise a trifle the spirits

of the men; and then came another diversion in the form of

ravenous meat-eaters attracted to the spot by the uncanny sense

of smell which had apprised them of the presence of flesh, killed

and ready for the eating.

It was a constant battle while they dug a grave and consigned all

that was mortal of John Tippet to his last, lonely resting-place.

Nor would they leave then; but remained to fashion a rude head-

stone from a crumbling out-cropping of sandstone and to gather

a mass of the gorgeous flowers growing in such great profusion

around them and heap the new-made grave with bright blooms.

Upon the headstone Sinclair scratched in rude characters the words:

HERE LIES JOHN TIPPET

ENGLISHMAN

KILLED BY TYRANNOSAURUS

10 SEPT. A.D. 1916

R.I.P.

and Bradley repeated a short prayer before they left their

comrade forever.

For three days the party marched due south through forests and

meadow-land and great park-like areas where countless herbivorous

animals grazed--deer and antelope and bos and the little ecca,

the smallest species of Caspakian horse, about the size of a rabbit.

There were other horses too; but all were small, the largest being

not above eight hands in height. Preying continually upon the

herbivora were the meat-eaters, large and small--wolves, hyaenadons,

panthers, lions, tigers, and bear as well as several large and

ferocious species of reptilian life.

On September twelfth the party scaled a line of sandstone cliffs

which crossed their route toward the south; but they crossed them

only after an encounter with the tribe that inhabited the numerous

caves which pitted the face of the escarpment. That night they

camped upon a rocky plateau which was sparsely wooded with jarrah,

and here once again they were visited by the weird, nocturnal

apparition that had already filled them with a nameless terror.

As on the night of September ninth the first warning came

from the sentinel standing guard over his sleeping companions.

A terror-stricken cry punctuated by the crack of a rifle brought

Bradley, Sinclair and Brady to their feet in time to see James,

with clubbed rifle, battling with a white-robed figure that

hovered on widespread wings on a level with the Englishman's head.

As they ran, shouting, forward, it was obvious to them that the

weird and terrible apparition was attempting to seize James; but

when it saw the others coming to his rescue, it desisted,

flapping rapidly upward and away, its long, ragged wings giving

forth the peculiarly dismal notes which always characterized the

sound of its flying.

Bradley fired at the vanishing menacer of their peace and safety;

but whether he scored a hit or not, none could tell, though,

following the shot, there was wafted back to them the same

piercing wail that had on other occasions frozen their marrow.

Then they turned toward James, who lay face downward upon the

ground, trembling as with ague. For a time he could not even

speak, but at last regained sufficient composure to tell them

how the thing must have swooped silently upon him from above

and behind as the first premonition of danger he had received

was when the long, clawlike fingers had clutched him beneath

either arm. In the melee his rifle had been discharged and he

had broken away at the same instant and turned to defend himself

with the butt. The rest they had seen.

From that instant James was an absolutely broken man.

He maintained with shaking lips that his doom was sealed, that

the thing had marked him for its own, and that he was as good as

dead, nor could any amount of argument or raillery convince him

to the contrary. He had seen Tippet marked and claimed and now

he had been marked. Nor were his constant reiterations of this

belief without effect upon the rest of the party. Even Bradley

felt depressed, though for the sake of the others he managed to

hide it beneath a show of confidence he was far from feeling.

And on the following day William James was killed by a

saber-tooth tiger--September 13, 1916. Beneath a jarrah tree on

the stony plateau on the northern edge of the Sto-lu country in

the land that Time forgot, he lies in a lonely grave marked by a

rough headstone.

Southward from his grave marched three grim and silent men.

To the best of Bradley's reckoning they were some twenty-five

miles north of Fort Dinosaur, and that they might reach the fort

on the following day, they plodded on until darkness overtook them.

With comparative safety fifteen miles away, they made camp at last;

but there was no singing now and no joking. In the bottom of his

heart each prayed that they might come safely through just this

night, for they knew that during the morrow they would make the

final stretch, yet the nerves of each were taut with strained

anticipation of what gruesome thing might flap down upon them from

the black sky, marking another for its own. Who would be the next?

As was their custom, they took turns at guard, each man doing two

hours and then arousing the next. Brady had gone on from eight

to ten, followed by Sinclair from ten to twelve, then Bradley had

been awakened. Brady would stand the last guard from two to

four, as they had determined to start the moment that it became

light enough to insure comparative safety upon the trail.

The snapping of a twig aroused Brady out of a dead sleep, and as

he opened his eyes, he saw that it was broad daylight and that at

twenty paces from him stood a huge lion. As the man sprang to

his feet, his rifle ready in his hand, Sinclair awoke and took in

the scene in a single swift glance. The fire was out and Bradley

was nowhere in sight. For a long moment the lion and the men

eyed one another. The latter had no mind to fire if the beast

minded its own affairs--they were only too glad to let it go its

way if it would; but the lion was of a different mind.

Suddenly the long tail snapped stiffly erect, and as though it

had been attached to two trigger fingers the two rifles spoke in

unison, for both men knew this signal only too well--the

immediate forerunner of a deadly charge. As the brute's head had

been raised, his spine had not been visible; and so they did what

they had learned by long experience was best to do. Each covered

a front leg, and as the tail snapped aloft, fired. With a

hideous roar the mighty flesh-eater lurched forward to the ground

with both front legs broken. It was an easy accomplishment in

the instant before the beast charged--after, it would have been

well-nigh an impossible feat. Brady stepped close in and finished

him with a shot in the base of the brain lest his terrific

roarings should attract his mate or others of their kind.

Then the two men turned and looked at one another. "Where is

Lieutenant Bradley?" asked Sinclair. They walked to the fire.

Only a few smoking embers remained. A few feet away lay

Bradley's rifle. There was no evidence of a struggle. The two

men circled about the camp twice and on the last lap Brady

stooped and picked up an object which had lain about ten yards

beyond the fire--it was Bradley's cap. Again the two looked

questioningly at one another, and then, simultaneously, both

pairs of eyes swung upward and searched the sky. A moment later

Brady was examining the ground about the spot where Bradley's cap

had lain. It was one of those little barren, sandy stretches

that they had found only upon this stony plateau. Brady's own

footsteps showed as plainly as black ink upon white paper; but

his was the only foot that had marred the smooth, windswept

surface--there was no sign that Bradley had crossed the spot

upon the surface of the ground, and yet his cap lay well

toward the center of it.

Breakfastless and with shaken nerves the two survivors plunged

madly into the long day's march. Both were strong, courageous,

resourceful men; but each had reached the limit of human nerve

endurance and each felt that he would rather die than spend

another night in the hideous open of that frightful land.

Vivid in the mind of each was a picture of Bradley's end, for

though neither had witnessed the tragedy, both could imagine almost

precisely what had occurred. They did not discuss it--they did

not even mention it--yet all day long the thing was uppermost in

the mind of each and mingled with it a similar picture with himself

as victim should they fail to make Fort Dinosaur before dark.

And so they plunged forward at reckless speed, their clothes,

their hands, their faces torn by the retarding underbrush that

reached forth to hinder them. Again and again they fell; but be

it to their credit that the one always waited and helped the

other and that into the mind of neither entered the thought or

the temptation to desert his companion--they would reach the fort

together if both survived, or neither would reach it.

They encountered the usual number of savage beasts and reptiles;

but they met them with a courageous recklessness born of desperation,

and by virtue of the very madness of the chances they took, they

came through unscathed and with the minimum of delay.

Shortly after noon they reached the end of the plateau.

Before them was a drop of two hundred feet to the valley beneath.

To the left, in the distance, they could see the waters of the

great inland sea that covers a considerable portion of the area

of the crater island of Caprona and at a little lesser distance

to the south of the cliffs they saw a thin spiral of smoke arising

above the tree-tops.

The landscape was familiar--each recognized it immediately

and knew that that smoky column marked the spot where Dinosaur

had stood. Was the fort still there, or did the smoke arise

from the smoldering embers of the building they had helped to

fashion for the housing of their party? Who could say!

Thirty precious minutes that seemed as many hours to the

impatient men were consumed in locating a precarious way from the

summit to the base of the cliffs that bounded the plateau upon

the south, and then once again they struck off upon level ground

toward their goal. The closer they approached the fort the

greater became their apprehension that all would not be well.

They pictured the barracks deserted or the small company

massacred and the buildings in ashes. It was almost in a frenzy

of fear that they broke through the final fringe of jungle and

stood at last upon the verge of the open meadow a half-mile from

Fort Dinosaur.

"Lord!" ejaculated Sinclair. "They are still there!" And he fell

to his knees, sobbing.

Brady trembled like a leaf as he crossed himself and gave silent

thanks, for there before them stood the sturdy ramparts of

Dinosaur and from inside the inclosure rose a thin spiral of

smoke that marked the location of the cook-house. All was well,

then, and their comrades were preparing the evening meal!

Across the clearing they raced as though they had not already

covered in a single day a trackless, primeval country that

might easily have required two days by fresh and untired men.

Within hailing distance they set up such a loud shouting that

presently heads appeared above the top of the parapet and soon

answering shouts were rising from within Fort Dinosaur. A moment

later three men issued from the inclosure and came forward to

meet the survivors and listen to the hurried story of the eleven

eventful days since they had set out upon their expedition to the

barrier cliffs. They heard of the deaths of Tippet and James and

of the disappearance of Lieutenant Bradley, and a new terror

settled upon Dinosaur.

Olson, the Irish engineer, with Whitely and Wilson constituted

the remnants of Dinosaur's defenders, and to Brady and Sinclair

they narrated the salient events that had transpired since Bradley

and his party had marched away on September 4th. They told them

of the infamous act of Baron Friedrich von Schoenvorts and his

German crew who had stolen the U-33, breaking their parole, and

steaming away toward the subterranean opening through the barrier

cliffs that carried the waters of the inland sea into the open

Pacific beyond; and of the cowardly shelling of the fort.

They told of the disappearance of Miss La Rue in the night of

September 11th, and of the departure of Bowen Tyler in search of

her, accompanied only by his Airedale, Nobs. Thus of the

original party of eleven Allies and nine Germans that had

constituted the company of the U-33 when she left English waters

after her capture by the crew of the English tug there were but

five now to be accounted for at Fort Dinosaur. Benson, Tippet,

James, and one of the Germans were known to be dead. It was

assumed that Bradley, Tyler and the girl had already succumbed to

some of the savage denizens of Caspak, while the fate of the

Germans was equally unknown, though it might readily be believed

that they had made good their escape. They had had ample time to

provision the ship and the refining of the crude oil they had

discovered north of the fort could have insured them an ample

supply to carry them back to Germany.

Chapter 2

When bradley went on guard at midnight, September 14th, his

thoughts were largely occupied with rejoicing that the night

was almost spent without serious mishap and that the morrow

would doubtless see them all safely returned to Fort Dinosaur.

The hopefulness of his mood was tinged with sorrow by recollection

of the two members of his party who lay back there in the savage

wilderness and for whom there would never again be a homecoming.

No premonition of impending ill cast gloom over his anticipations

for the coming day, for Bradley was a man who, while taking every

precaution against possible danger, permitted no gloomy

forebodings to weigh down his spirit. When danger threatened, he

was prepared; but he was not forever courting disaster, and so it

was that when about one o'clock in the morning of the fifteenth,

he heard the dismal flapping of giant wings overhead, he was

neither surprised nor frightened but idly prepared for an attack

he had known might reasonably be expected.

The sound seemed to come from the south, and presently, low above

the trees in that direction, the man made out a dim, shadowy form

circling slowly about. Bradley was a brave man, yet so keen was

the feeling of revulsion engendered by the sight and sound of

that grim, uncanny shape that he distinctly felt the gooseflesh

rise over the surface of his body, and it was with difficulty

that he refrained from following an instinctive urge to fire upon

the nocturnal intruder. Better, far better would it have been

had he given in to the insistent demand of his subconscious

mentor; but his almost fanatical obsession to save ammunition

proved now his undoing, for while his attention was riveted upon

the thing circling before him and while his ears were filled with

the beating of its wings, there swooped silently out of the black

night behind him another weird and ghostly shape. With its huge

wings partly closed for the dive and its white robe fluttering in

its wake, the apparition swooped down upon the Englishman.

So great was the force of the impact when the thing struck

Bradley between the shoulders that the man was half stunned.

His rifle flew from his grasp; he felt clawlike talons of great

strength seize him beneath his arms and sweep him off his feet;

and then the thing rose swiftly with him, so swiftly that his cap

was blown from his head by the rush of air as he was borne

rapidly upward into the inky sky and the cry of warning to his

companions was forced back into his lungs.

The creature wheeled immediately toward the east and was at once

joined by its fellow, who circled them once and then fell in

behind them. Bradley now realized the strategy that the pair

had used to capture him and at once concluded that he was in the

power of reasoning beings closely related to the human race if

not actually of it.

Past experience suggested that the great wings were a part of

some ingenious mechanical device, for the limitations of the

human mind, which is always loath to accept aught beyond its own

little experience, would not permit him to entertain the idea

that the creatures might be naturally winged and at the same time

of human origin. From his position Bradley could not see the

wings of his captor, nor in the darkness had he been able to

examine those of the second creature closely when it circled

before him. He listened for the puff of a motor or some other

telltale sound that would prove the correctness of his theory.

However, he was rewarded with nothing more than the constant

flap-flap.

Presently, far below and ahead, he saw the waters of the inland

sea, and a moment later he was borne over them. Then his captor

did that which proved beyond doubt to Bradley that he was in the

hands of human beings who had devised an almost perfect scheme of

duplicating, mechanically, the wings of a bird--the thing spoke

to its companion and in a language that Bradley partially

understood, since he recognized words that he had learned from

the savage races of Caspak. From this he judged that they were

human, and being human, he knew that they could have no natural

wings--for who had ever seen a human being so adorned!

Therefore their wings must be mechanical. Thus Bradley reasoned--

thus most of us reason; not by what might be possible; but by what

has fallen within the range of our experience.

What he heard them say was to the effect that having covered

half the distance the burden would now be transferred from one

to the other. Bradley wondered how the exchange was to

be accomplished. He knew that those giant wings would not

permit the creatures to approach one another closely enough

to effect the transfer in this manner; but he was soon to

discover that they had other means of doing it.

He felt the thing that carried him rise to a greater altitude,

and below he glimpsed momentarily the second white-robed figure;

then the creature above sounded a low call, it was answered from

below, and instantly Bradley felt the clutching talons release

him; gasping for breath, he hurtled downward through space.

For a terrifying instant, pregnant with horror, Bradley fell;

then something swooped for him from behind, another pair of

talons clutched him beneath the arms, his downward rush was

checked, within another hundred feet, and close to the surface

of the sea he was again borne upward. As a hawk dives for a

songbird on the wing, so this great, human bird dived for Bradley.

It was a harrowing experience, but soon over, and once again

the captive was being carried swiftly toward the east and what

fate he could not even guess.

It was immediately following his transfer in mid-air that Bradley

made out the shadowy form of a large island far ahead, and not

long after, he realized that this must be the intended

destination of his captors. Nor was he mistaken. Three quarters

of an hour from the time of his seizure his captors dropped

gently to earth in the strangest city that human eye had ever

rested upon. Just a brief glimpse of his immediate surroundings

vouchsafed Bradley before he was whisked into the interior of one

of the buildings; but in that momentary glance he saw strange

piles of stone and wood and mud fashioned into buildings of all

conceivable sizes and shapes, sometimes piled high on top of one

another, sometimes standing alone in an open court-way, but

usually crowded and jammed together, so that there were no

streets or alleys between them other than a few which ended

almost as soon as they began. The principal doorways appeared to

be in the roofs, and it was through one of these that Bradley was

inducted into the dark interior of a low-ceiled room. Here he

was pushed roughly into a corner where he tripped over a thick

mat, and there his captors left him. He heard them moving about

in the darkness for a moment, and several times he saw their

large luminous eyes glowing in the dark. Finally, these

disappeared and silence reigned, broken only by the breathing of

the creature which indicated to the Englishman that they were

sleeping somewhere in the same apartment.

It was now evident that the mat upon the floor was intended for

sleeping purposes and that the rough shove that had sent him to

it had been a rude invitation to repose. After taking stock of

himself and finding that he still had his pistol and ammunition,

some matches, a little tobacco, a canteen full of water and a

razor, Bradley made himself comfortable upon the mat and was soon

asleep, knowing that an attempted escape in the darkness without

knowledge of his surroundings would be predoomed to failure.

When he awoke, it was broad daylight, and the sight that met his

eyes made him rub them again and again to assure himself that

they were really open and that he was not dreaming. A broad

shaft of morning light poured through the open doorway in the

ceiling of the room which was about thirty feet square, or

roughly square, being irregular in shape, one side curving

outward, another being indented by what might have been the

corner of another building jutting into it, another alcoved by

three sides of an octagon, while the fourth was serpentine

in contour. Two windows let in more daylight, while two doors

evidently gave ingress to other rooms. The walls were partially

ceiled with thin strips of wood, nicely fitted and finished,

partially plastered and the rest covered with a fine, woven cloth.

Figures of reptiles and beasts were painted without regard to

any uniform scheme here and there upon the walls. A striking

feature of the decorations consisted of several engaged columns

set into the walls at no regular intervals, the capitals of

each supporting a human skull the cranium of which touched the

ceiling, as though the latter was supported by these grim

reminders either of departed relatives or of some hideous tribal

rite--Bradley could not but wonder which.

Yet it was none of these things that filled him with greatest

wonder--no, it was the figures of the two creatures that had

captured him and brought him hither. At one end of the room a

stout pole about two inches in diameter ran horizontally from

wall to wall some six or seven feet from the floor, its ends

securely set in two of the columns. Hanging by their knees from

this perch, their heads downward and their bodies wrapped in

their huge wings, slept the creatures of the night before--like

two great, horrid bats they hung, asleep.

As Bradley gazed upon them in wide-eyed astonishment, he saw

plainly that all his intelligence, all his acquired knowledge

through years of observation and experience were set at naught by

the simple evidence of the fact that stood out glaringly before

his eyes--the creatures' wings were not mechanical devices but as

natural appendages, growing from their shoulderblades, as were

their arms and legs. He saw, too, that except for their wings

the pair bore a strong resemblance to human beings, though

fashioned in a most grotesque mold.

As he sat gazing at them, one of the two awoke, separated his

wings to release his arms that had been folded across his breast,

placed his hands upon the floor, dropped his feet and stood erect.

For a moment he stretched his great wings slowly, solemnly

blinking his large round eyes. Then his gaze fell upon Bradley.

The thin lips drew back tightly against yellow teeth in a grimace

that was nothing but hideous. It could not have been termed a

smile, and what emotion it registered the Englishman was at a

loss to guess. No expression whatever altered the steady gaze

of those large, round eyes; there was no color upon the pasty,

sunken cheeks. A death's head grimaced as though a man long

dead raised his parchment-covered skull from an old grave.

The creature stood about the height of an average man but

appeared much taller from the fact that the joints of his long

wings rose fully a foot above his hairless head. The bare arms

were long and sinewy, ending in strong, bony hands with clawlike

fingers--almost talonlike in their suggestiveness. The white

robe was separated in front, revealing skinny legs and the

further fact that the thing wore but the single garment, which

was of fine, woven cloth. From crown to sole the portions of

the body exposed were entirely hairless, and as he noted this,

Bradley also noted for the first time the cause of much of the

seeming expressionlessness of the creature's countenance--it had

neither eye-brows or lashes. The ears were small and rested flat

against the skull, which was noticeably round, though the face

was quite flat. The creature had small feet, beautifully arched

and plump, but so out of keeping with every other physical

attribute it possessed as to appear ridiculous.

After eyeing Bradley for a moment the thing approached him.

"Where from?" it asked.

"England," replied Bradley, as briefly.

"Where is England and what?" pursued the questioner.

"It is a country far from here," answered the Englishman.

"Are your people cor-sva-jo or cos-ata-lu?"

"I do not understand you," said Bradley; "and now suppose you

answer a few questions. Who are you? What country is this?

Why did you bring me here?"

Again the sepulchral grimace. "We are Wieroos--Luata is our father.

Caspak is ours. This, our country, is called Oo-oh. We brought

you here for (literally) Him Who Speaks for Luata to gaze upon

and question. He would know from whence you came and why; but

principally if you be cos-ata-lu."

"And if I am not cos--whatever you call the bloomin' beast--

what of it?"

The Wieroo raised his wings in a very human shrug and waved his

bony claws toward the human skulls supporting the ceiling.

His gesture was eloquent; but he embellished it by remarking,

"And possibly if you are."

"I'm hungry," snapped Bradley.

The Wieroo motioned him to one of the doors which he threw open,

permitting Bradley to pass out onto another roof on a level lower

than that upon which they had landed earlier in the morning.

By daylight the city appeared even more remarkable than in the

moonlight, though less weird and unreal. The houses of all

shapes and sizes were piled about as a child might pile blocks of

various forms and colors. He saw now that there were what might

be called streets or alleys, but they ran in baffling turns and

twists, nor ever reached a destination, always ending in a dead

wall where some Wieroo had built a house across them.

Upon each house was a slender column supporting a human skull.

Sometimes the columns were at one corner of the roof, sometimes

at another, or again they rose from the center or near the

center, and the columns were of varying heights, from that of

a man to those which rose twenty feet above their roofs.

The skulls were, as a rule, painted--blue or white, or in

combinations of both colors. The most effective were painted

blue with the teeth white and the eye-sockets rimmed with white.

There were other skulls--thousands of them--tens, hundreds

of thousands. They rimmed the eaves of every house, they were

set in the plaster of the outer walls and at no great distance

from where Bradley stood rose a round tower built entirely of

human skulls. And the city extended in every direction as far

as the Englishman could see.

All about him Wieroos were moving across the roofs or winging

through the air. The sad sound of their flapping wings rose and

fell like a solemn dirge. Most of them were appareled all in

white, like his captors; but others had markings of red or blue

or yellow slashed across the front of their robes.

His guide pointed toward a doorway in an alley below them.

"Go there and eat," he commanded, "and then come back.

You cannot escape. If any question you, say that you belong

to Fosh-bal-soj. There is the way." And this time he pointed

to the top of a ladder which protruded above the eaves of the

roof near-by. Then he turned and reentered the house.

Bradley looked about him. No, he could not escape--that

seemed evident. The city appeared interminable, and beyond the

city, if not a savage wilderness filled with wild beasts, there

was the broad inland sea infested with horrid monsters. No wonder

his captor felt safe in turning him loose in Oo-oh--he wondered if

that was the name of the country or the city and if there were

other cities like this upon the island.

Slowly he descended the ladder to the seemingly deserted alley

which was paved with what appeared to be large, round cobblestones.

He looked again at the smooth, worn pavement, and a rueful grin

crossed his features--the alley was paved with skulls. "The City

of Human Skulls," mused Bradley. "They must have been collectin'

'em since Adam," he thought, and then he crossed and entered the

building through the doorway that had been pointed out to him.

Inside he found a large room in which were many Wieroos seated

before pedestals the tops of which were hollowed out so that

they resembled the ordinary bird drinking- and bathing-fonts so

commonly seen on suburban lawns. A seat protruded from each of

the four sides of the pedestals--just a flat board with a support

running from its outer end diagonally to the base of the pedestal.

As Bradley entered, some of the Wieroos espied him, and a dismal

wail arose. Whether it was a greeting or a threat, Bradley did

not know. Suddenly from a dark alcove another Wieroo rushed out

toward him. "Who are you?" he cried. "What do you want?"

"Fosh-bal-soj sent me here to eat," replied Bradley.

"Do you belong to Fosh-bal-soj?" asked the other.

"That appears to be what he thinks," answered the Englishman.

"Are you cos-ata-lu?" demanded the Wieroo.

"Give me something to eat or I'll be all of that," replied Bradley.

The Wieroo looked puzzled. "Sit here, jaal-lu," he snapped,

and Bradley sat down unconscious of the fact that he had been

insulted by being called a hyena-man, an appellation of contempt

in Caspak.

The Wieroo had seated him at a pedestal by himself, and as he sat

waiting for what was next to transpire, he looked about him at

the Wieroo in his immediate vicinity. He saw that in each font

was a quantity of food, and that each Wieroo was armed with a

wooden skewer, sharpened at one end; with which they carried

solid portions of food to their mouths. At the other end of the

skewer was fastened a small clam-shell. This was used to scoop

up the smaller and softer portions of the repast into which all

four of the occupants of each table dipped impartially. The Wieroo

leaned far over their food, scooping it up rapidly and with much

noise, and so great was their haste that a part of each mouthful

always fell back into the common dish; and when they choked, by

reason of the rapidity with which they attempted to bolt their

food, they often lost it all. Bradley was glad that he had a

pedestal all to himself.

Soon the keeper of the place returned with a wooden bowl filled

with food. This he dumped into Bradley's "trough," as he already

thought of it. The Englishman was glad that he could not see

into the dark alcove or know what were all the ingredients that

constituted the mess before him, for he was very hungry.

After the first mouthful he cared even less to investigate the

antecedents of the dish, for he found it peculiarly palatable.

It seemed to consist of a combination of meat, fruits,

vegetables, small fish and other undistinguishable articles of

food all seasoned to produce a gastronomic effect that was at

once baffling and delicious.

When he had finished, his trough was empty, and then he commenced

to wonder who was to settle for his meal. As he waited for the

proprietor to return, he fell to examining the dish from which he

had eaten and the pedestal upon which it rested. The font was of

stone worn smooth by long-continued use, the four outer edges

hollowed and polished by the contact of the countless Wieroo

bodies that had leaned against them for how long a period of time

Bradley could not even guess. Everything about the place carried

the impression of hoary age. The carved pedestals were black

with use, the wooden seats were worn hollow, the floor of stone

slabs was polished by the contact of possibly millions of naked

feet and worn away in the aisles between the pedestals so that

the latter rested upon little mounds of stone several inches

above the general level of the floor.

Finally, seeing that no one came to collect, Bradley arose and

started for the doorway. He had covered half the distance when

he heard the voice of mine host calling to him: "Come back,

jaal-lu," screamed the Wieroo; and Bradley did as he was bid.

As he approached the creature which stood now behind a large,

flat-topped pedestal beside the alcove, he saw lying upon the

smooth surface something that almost elicited a gasp of

astonishment from him--a simple, common thing it was, or would

have been almost anywhere in the world but Caspak--a square bit

of paper!

And on it, in a fine hand, written compactly, were many strange

hieroglyphics! These remarkable creatures, then, had a written as

well as a spoken language and besides the art of weaving cloth

possessed that of paper-making. Could it be that such grotesque

beings represented the high culture of the human race within the

boundaries of Caspak? Had natural selection produced during the

countless ages of Caspakian life a winged monstrosity that

represented the earthly pinnacle of man's evolution?

Bradley had noted something of the obvious indications of a

gradual evolution from ape to spearman as exemplified by the

several overlapping races of Alalus, club-men and hatchet-men

that formed the connecting links between the two extremes with

which he, had come in contact. He had heard of the Krolus and

the Galus--reputed to be still higher in the plane of evolution--

and now he had indisputable evidence of a race possessing

refinements of civilization eons in advance of the spear-men.

The conjectures awakened by even a momentary consideration of the

possibilities involved became at once as wildly bizarre as the

insane imagings of a drug addict.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, the Wieroo held out

a pen of bone fixed to a wooden holder and at the same time made

a sign that Bradley was to write upon the paper. It was

difficult to judge from the expressionless features of the Wieroo

what was passing in the creature's mind, but Bradley could not

but feel that the thing cast a supercilious glance upon him as

much as to say, "Of course you do not know how to write, you

poor, low creature; but you can make your mark."

Bradley seized the pen and in a clear, bold hand wrote: "John

Bradley, England." The Wieroo showed evidences of consternation

as it seized the piece of paper and examined the writing with

every mark of incredulity and surprise. Of course it could make

nothing of the strange characters; but it evidently accepted them

as proof that Bradley possessed knowledge of a written language

of his own, for following the Englishman's entry it made a few

characters of its own.

"You will come here again just before Lua hides his face behind

the great cliff," announced the creature, "unless before that you

are summoned by Him Who Speaks for Luata, in which case you will

not have to eat any more."

"Reassuring cuss," thought Bradley as he turned and left

the building.

Outside were several Wieroos that had been eating at the

pedestals within. They immediately surrounded him, asking all

sorts of questions, plucking at his garments, his ammunition-belt

and his pistol. Their demeanor was entirely different from what

it had been within the eating-place and Bradley was to learn that

a house of food was sanctuary for him, since the stern laws of

the Wieroos forbade altercations within such walls. Now they

were rough and threatening, as with wings half spread they

hovered about him in menacing attitudes, barring his way to the

ladder leading to the roof from whence he had descended; but the

Englishman was not one to brook interference for long. He attempted

at first to push his way past them, and then when one seized his

arm and jerked him roughly back, Bradley swung upon the creature

and with a heavy blow to the jaw felled it.

Instantly pandemonium reigned. Loud wails arose, great wings

opened and closed with a loud, beating noise and many clawlike

hands reached forth to clutch him. Bradley struck to right

and left. He dared not use his pistol for fear that once they

discovered its power he would be overcome by weight of numbers

and relieved of possession of what he considered his trump card,

to be reserved until the last moment that it might be used to aid

in his escape, for already the Englishman was planning, though

almost hopelessly, such an attempt.

A few blows convinced Bradley that the Wieroos were arrant

cowards and that they bore no weapons, for after two or three had

fallen beneath his fists the others formed a circle about him,

but at a safe distance and contented themselves with threatening

and blustering, while those whom he had felled lay upon the

pavement without trying to arise, the while they moaned and

wailed in lugubrious chorus.

Again Bradley strode toward the ladder, and this time the circle

parted before him; but no sooner had he ascended a few rungs than

he was seized by one foot and an effort made to drag him down.

With a quick backward glance the Englishman, clinging firmly to

the ladder with both hands, drew up his free foot and with all

the strength of a powerful leg, planted a heavy shoe squarely in

the flat face of the Wieroo that held him. Shrieking horribly,

the creature clapped both hands to its face and sank to the

ground while Bradley clambered quickly the remaining distance to

the roof, though no sooner did he reach the top of the ladder

than a great flapping of wings beneath him warned him that the

Wieroos were rising after him. A moment later they swarmed about

his head as he ran for the apartment in which he had spent the

early hours of the morning after his arrival.

It was but a short distance from the top of the ladder to the

doorway, and Bradley had almost reached his goal when the door

flew open and Fosh-bal-soj stepped out. Immediately the pursuing

Wieroos demanded punishment of the jaal-lu who had so

grievously maltreated them. Fosh-bal-soj listened to their

complaints and then with a sudden sweep of his right hand seized

Bradley by the scruff of the neck and hurled him sprawling

through the doorway upon the floor of the chamber.

So sudden was the assault and so surprising the strength of the

Wieroo that the Englishman was taken completely off his guard.

When he arose, the door was closed, and Fosh-bal-soj was standing

over him, his hideous face contorted into an expression of rage

and hatred.

"Hyena, snake, lizard!" he screamed. "You would dare lay your

low, vile, profaning hands upon even the lowliest of the Wieroos--

the sacred chosen of Luata!"

Bradley was mad, and so he spoke in a very low, calm voice while

a half-smile played across his lips but his cold, gray eyes

were unsmiling.

"What you did to me just now," he said, "--I am going to kill

you for that," and even as he spoke, he launched himself at the

throat of Fosh-bal-soj. The other Wieroo that had been asleep

when Bradley left the chamber had departed, and the two were alone.

Fosh-bal-soj displayed little of the cowardice of those that had

attacked Bradley in the alleyway, but that may have been because

he had so slight opportunity, for Bradley had him by the throat

before he could utter a cry and with his right hand struck him

heavily and repeatedly upon his face and over his heart--ugly,

smashing, short-arm jabs of the sort that take the fight out of

a man in quick time.

But Fosh-bal-soj was of no mind to die passively. He clawed and

struck at Bradley while with his great wings he attempted to

shield himself from the merciless rain of blows, at the same time

searching for a hold upon his antagonist's throat. Presently he

succeeded in tripping the Englishman, and together the two fell

heavily to the floor, Bradley underneath, and at the same instant

the Wieroo fastened his long talons about the other's windpipe.

Fosh-bal-soj was possessed of enormous strength and he was

fighting for his life. The Englishman soon realized that the

battle was going against him. Already his lungs were pounding

painfully for air as he reached for his pistol. It was with

difficulty that he drew it from its holster, and even then, with

death staring him in the face, he thought of his precious ammunition.

"Can't waste it," he thought; and slipping his fingers to the

barrel he raised the weapon and struck Fosh-bal-soj a terrific

blow between the eyes. Instantly the clawlike fingers released

their hold, and the creature sank limply to the floor beside

Bradley, who lay for several minutes gasping painfully in an

effort to regain his breath.

When he was able, he rose, and leaned close over the Wieroo,

lying silent and motionless, his wings dropping limply and his

great, round eyes staring blankly toward the ceiling. A brief

examination convinced Bradley that the thing was dead, and with

the conviction came an overwhelming sense of the dangers which

must now confront him; but how was he to escape?

His first thought was to find some means for concealing the

evidence of his deed and then to make a bold effort to escape.

Stepping to the second door he pushed it gently open and peered

in upon what seemed to be a store room. In it was a litter of

cloth such as the Wieroos' robes were fashioned from, a number

of chests painted blue and white, with white hieroglyphics

painted in bold strokes upon the blue and blue hieroglyphics upon

the white. In one corner was a pile of human skulls reaching

almost to the ceiling and in another a stack of dried Wieroo wings.

The chamber was as irregularly shaped as the other and had but a

single window and a second door at the further end, but was

without the exit through the roof and, most important of all,

there was no creature of any sort in it.

As quickly as possible Bradley dragged the dead Wieroo through

the doorway and closed the door; then he looked about for a place

to conceal the corpse. One of the chests was large enough to

hold the body if the knees were bent well up, and with this idea

in view Bradley approached the chest to open it. The lid was

made in two pieces, each being hinged at an opposite end of the

chest and joining nicely where they met in the center of the

chest, making a snug, well-fitting joint. There was no lock.

Bradley raised one half the cover and looked in. With a smothered

"By Jove!" he bent closer to examine the contents--the chest

was about half filled with an assortment of golden trinkets.

There were what appeared to be bracelets, anklets and brooches

of virgin gold.

Realizing that there was no room in the chest for the body of the

Wieroo, Bradley turned to seek another means of concealing the

evidence of his crime. There was a space between the chests and

the wall, and into this he forced the corpse, piling the

discarded robes upon it until it was entirely hidden from sight;

but now how was he to make good his escape in the bright glare of

that early Spring day?

He walked to the door at the far end of the apartment and

cautiously opened it an inch. Before him and about two feet away

was the blank wall of another building. Bradley opened the door

a little farther and looked in both directions. There was no one

in sight to the left over a considerable expanse of roof-top, and

to the right another building shut off his line of vision at

about twenty feet. Slipping out, he turned to the right and in

a few steps found a narrow passageway between two buildings.

Turning into this he passed about half its length when he saw a

Wieroo appear at the opposite end and halt. The creature was not

looking down the passageway; but at any moment it might turn its

eyes toward him, when he would be immediately discovered.

To Bradley's left was a triangular niche in the wall of one of

the houses and into this he dodged, thus concealing himself from

the sight of the Wieroo. Beside him was a door painted a vivid

yellow and constructed after the same fashion as the other Wieroo

doors he had seen, being made up of countless narrow strips of

wood from four to six inches in length laid on in patches of

about the same width, the strips in adjacent patches never

running in the same direction. The result bore some resemblance

to a crazy patchwork quilt, which was heightened when, as in one

of the doors he had seen, contiguous patches were painted

different colors. The strips appeared to have been bound

together and to the underlying framework of the door with gut or

fiber and also glued, after which a thick coating of paint had

been applied. One edge of the door was formed of a straight,

round pole about two inches in diameter that protruded at top and

bottom, the projections setting in round holes in both lintel and

sill forming the axis upon which the door swung. An eccentric

disk upon the inside face of the door engaged a slot in the frame

when it was desired to secure the door against intruders.

As Bradley stood flattened against the wall waiting for the

Wieroo to move on, he heard the creature's wings brushing against

the sides of the buildings as it made its way down the narrow

passage in his direction. As the yellow door offered the only

means of escape without detection, the Englishman decided to risk

whatever might lie beyond it, and so, boldly pushing it in, he

crossed the threshold and entered a small apartment.

As he did so, he heard a muffled ejaculation of surprise, and

turning his eyes in the direction from whence the sound had come,

he beheld a wide-eyed girl standing flattened against the

opposite wall, an expression of incredulity upon her face. At a

glance he saw that she was of no race of humans that he had come

in contact with since his arrival upon Caprona--there was no

trace about her form or features of any relationship to those low

orders of men, nor was she appareled as they--or, rather, she did

not entirely lack apparel as did most of them.

A soft hide fell from her left shoulder to just below her left

hip on one side and almost to her right knee on the other, a

loose girdle was about her waist, and golden ornaments such as he

had seen in the blue-and-white chest encircled her arms and legs,

while a golden fillet with a triangular diadem bound her heavy

hair above her brows. Her skin was white as from long confinement

within doors; but it was clear and fine. Her figure, but partially

concealed by the soft deerskin, was all curves of symmetry and

youthful grace, while her features might easily have been the envy

of the most feted of Continental beauties.

If the girl was surprised by the sudden appearance of Bradley,

the latter was absolutely astounded to discover so wondrous

a creature among the hideous inhabitants of the City of

Human Skulls. For a moment the two looked at one another in

unconcealed consternation, and then Bradley spoke, using to

the best of his poor ability, the common tongue of Caspak.

"Who are you," he asked, "and from where do you come? Do not tell

me that you are a Wieroo."

"No," she replied, "I am no Wieroo." And she shuddered slightly as

she pronounced the word. "I am a Galu; but who and what are you?

I am sure that you are no Galu, from your garments; but you are

like the Galus in other respects. I know that you are not of

this frightful city, for I have been here for almost ten moons,

and never have I seen a male Galu brought hither before, nor are

there such as you and I, other than prisoners in the land of

Oo-oh, and these are all females. Are you a prisoner, then?"

He told her briefly who and what he was, though he doubted if she

understood, and from her he learned that she had been a prisoner

there for many months; but for what purpose he did not then

learn, as in the midst of their conversation the yellow door

swung open and a Wieroo with a robe slashed with yellow entered.

At sight of Bradley the creature became furious. "Whence came

this reptile?" it demanded of the girl. "How long has it been

here with you?"

"It came through the doorway just ahead of you," Bradley answered

for the girl.

The Wieroo looked relieved. "It is well for the girl that

this is so," it said, "for now only you will have to die."

And stepping to the door the creature raised its voice in

one of those uncanny, depressing wails.

The Englishman looked toward the girl. "Shall I kill it?" he

asked, half drawing his pistol. "What is best to do?--I do not

wish to endanger you."

The Wieroo backed toward the door. "Defiler!" it screamed.

"You dare to threaten one of the sacred chosen of Luata!"

"Do not kill him," cried the girl, "for then there could be no

hope for you. That you are here, alive, shows that they may not

intend to kill you at all, and so there is a chance for you if

you do not anger them; but touch him in violence and your

bleached skull will top the loftiest pedestal of Oo-oh."

"And what of you?" asked Bradley.

"I am already doomed," replied the girl; "I am cos-ata-lo."

"Cos-ata-lo! cos-ata-lu!" What did these phrases mean that

they were so oft repeated by the denizens of Oo-oh? Lu and

lo, Bradley knew to mean man and woman; ata; was

employed variously to indicate life, eggs, young, reproduction

and kindred subject; cos was a negative; but in combination

they were meaningless to the European.

"Do you mean they will kill you?" asked Bradley.

"I but wish that they would," replied the girl. "My fate is to

be worse than death--in just a few nights more, with the coming

of the new moon."

"Poor she-snake!" snapped the Wieroo. "You are to become sacred

above all other shes. He Who Speaks for Luata has chosen you

for himself. Today you go to his temple--"the Wieroo used a

phrase meaning literally High Place--"where you will receive

the sacred commands."

The girl shuddered and cast a sorrowful glance toward Bradley.

"Ah," she sighed, "if I could but see my beloved country once again!"

The man stepped suddenly close to her side before the Wieroo

could interpose and in a low voice asked her if there was no

way by which he might encompass her escape. She shook her

head sorrowfully. "Even if we escaped the city," she replied,

"there is the big water between the island of Oo-oh and the

Galu shore."

"And what is beyond the city, if we could leave it?" pursued Bradley.

"I may only guess from what I have heard since I was brought

here," she answered; "but by reports and chance remarks I take it

to be a beautiful land in which there are but few wild beasts and

no men, for only the Wieroos live upon this island and they dwell

always in cities of which there are three, this being the largest.

The others are at the far end of the island, which is about three

marches from end to end and at its widest point about one march."

From his own experience and from what the natives on the mainland

had told him, Bradley knew that ten miles was a good day's march

in Caspak, owing to the fact that at most points it was a

trackless wilderness and at all times travelers were beset by

hideous beasts and reptiles that greatly impeded rapid progress.

The two had spoken rapidly but were now interrupted by the advent

through the opening in the roof of several Wieroos who had come

in answer to the alarm it of the yellow slashing had uttered.

"This jaal-lu," cried the offended one, "has threatened me.

Take its hatchet from it and make it fast where it can do no

harm until He Who Speaks for Luata has said what shall be done

with it. It is one of those strange creatures that Fosh-bal-soj

discovered first above the Band-lu country and followed back toward

the beginning. He Who Speaks for Luata sent Fosh-bal-soj to fetch

him one of the creatures, and here it is. It is hoped that it may

be from another world and hold the secret of the cos-ata-lus."

The Wieroos approached boldly to take Bradley's "hatchet" from

him, their leader having indicated the pistol hanging in its

holster at the Englishman's hip, but the first one went reeling

backward against his fellows from the blow to the chin which

Bradley followed up with a rush and the intention to clean up the

room in record time; but he had reckoned without the opening in

the roof. Two were down and a great wailing and moaning was

arising when reinforcements appeared from above. Bradley did not

see them; but the girl did, and though she cried out a warning,

it came too late for him to avoid a large Wieroo who dived

headforemost for him, striking him between the shoulders and

bearing him to the floor. Instantly a dozen more were piling on

top of him. His pistol was wrenched from its holster and he was

securely pinioned down by the weight of numbers.

At a word from the Wieroo of the yellow slashing who evidently

was a person of authority, one left and presently returned with

fiber ropes with which Bradley was tightly bound.

"Now bear him to the Blue Place of Seven Skulls," directed the

chief Wieroo, "and one take the word of all that has passed to

Him Who Speaks for Luata."

Each of the creatures raised a hand, the back against its face,

as though in salute. One seized Bradley and carried him through

the yellow doorway to the roof from whence it rose upon its

wide-spread wings and flapped off across the roof-tops of Oo-oh

with its heavy burden clutched in its long talons.

Below him Bradley could see the city stretching away to a

distance on every hand. It was not as large as he had imagined,

though he judged that it was at least three miles square.

The houses were piled in indescribable heaps, sometimes to a

height of a hundred feet. The streets and alleys were short

and crooked and there were many areas where buildings had been

wedged in so closely that no light could possibly reach the

lowest tiers, the entire surface of the ground being packed

solidly with them.

The colors were varied and startling, the architecture amazing.

Many roofs were cup or saucer-shaped with a small hole in the

center of each, as though they had been constructed to catch

rain-water and conduct it to a reservoir beneath; but nearly all

the others had the large opening in the top that Bradley had seen

used by these flying men in lieu of doorways. At all levels were

the myriad poles surmounted by grinning skulls; but the two most

prominent features of the city were the round tower of human

skulls that Bradley had noted earlier in the day and another and

much larger edifice near the center of the city. As they

approached it, Bradley saw that it was a huge building rising a

hundred feet in height from the ground and that it stood alone in

the center of what might have been called a plaza in some other

part of the world. Its various parts, however, were set together

with the same strange irregularity that marked the architecture

of the city as a whole; and it was capped by an enormous

saucer-shaped roof which projected far beyond the eaves, having

the appearance of a colossal Chinese coolie hat, inverted.

The Wieroo bearing Bradley passed over one corner of the open

space about the large building, revealing to the Englishman grass

and trees and running water beneath. They passed the building

and about five hundred yards beyond the creature alighted on the

roof of a square, blue building surmounted by seven poles bearing

seven skulls. This then, thought Bradley, is the Blue Place of

Seven Skulls.

Over the opening in the roof was a grated covering, and this the

Wieroo removed. The thing then tied a piece of fiber rope to one

of Bradley's ankles and rolled him over the edge of the opening.

All was dark below and for an instant the Englishman came as near

to experiencing real terror as he had ever come in his life before.

As he rolled off into the black abyss he felt the rope tighten

about his ankle and an instant later he was stopped with a sudden

jerk to swing pendulumlike, head downward. Then the creature

lowered away until Bradley's head came in sudden and painful

contact with the floor below, after which the Wieroo let loose

of the rope entirely and the Englishman's body crashed to the

wooden planking. He felt the free end of the rope dropped

upon him and heard the grating being slid into place above him.

Chapter 3

Half-stunned, Bradley lay for a minute as he had fallen and then

slowly and painfully wriggled into a less uncomfortable position.

He could see nothing of his surroundings in the gloom about him

until after a few minutes his eyes became accustomed to the dark

interior when he rolled them from side to side in survey of his prison.

He discovered himself to be in a bare room which was windowless,

nor could he see any other opening than that through which he had

been lowered. In one corner was a huddled mass that might have

been almost anything from a bundle of rags to a dead body.

Almost immediately after he had taken his bearings Bradley

commenced working with his bonds. He was a man of powerful

physique, and as from the first he had been imbued with a belief

that the fiber ropes were too weak to hold him, he worked on

with a firm conviction that sooner or later they would part to

his strainings. After a matter of five minutes he was positive

that the strands about his wrists were beginning to give; but he

was compelled to rest then from exhaustion.

As he lay, his eyes rested upon the bundle in the corner, and

presently he could have sworn that the thing moved. With eyes

straining through the gloom the man lay watching the grim and

sinister thing in the corner. Perhaps his overwrought nerves

were playing a sorry joke upon him. He thought of this and also

that his condition of utter helplessness might still further have

stimulated his imagination. He closed his eyes and sought to

relax his muscles and his nerves; but when he looked again, he

knew that he had not been mistaken--the thing had moved; now it

lay in a slightly altered form and farther from the wall. It was

nearer him.

With renewed strength Bradley strained at his bonds, his

fascinated gaze still glued upon the shapeless bundle. No longer

was there any doubt that it moved--he saw it rise in the center

several inches and then creep closer to him. It sank and arose

again--a headless, hideous, monstrous thing of menace. Its very

silence rendered it the more terrible.

Bradley was a brave man; ordinarily his nerves were of steel; but

to be at the mercy of some unknown and nameless horror, to be

unable to defend himself--it was these things that almost

unstrung him, for at best he was only human. To stand in the

open, even with the odds all against him; to be able to use his

fists, to put up some sort of defense, to inflict punishment upon

his adversary--then he could face death with a smile. It was not

death that he feared now--it was that horror of the unknown that

is part of the fiber of every son of woman.

Closer and closer came the shapeless mass. Bradley lay

motionless and listened. What was that he heard! Breathing?

He could not be mistaken--and then from out of the bundle of rags

issued a hollow groan. Bradley felt his hair rise upon his head.

He struggled with the slowly parting strands that held him.

The thing beside him rose up higher than before and the Englishman

could have sworn that he saw a single eye peering at him from

among the tumbled cloth. For a moment the bundle remained

motionless--only the sound of breathing issued from it, then

there broke from it a maniacal laugh.

Cold sweat stood upon Bradley's brow as he tugged for liberation.

He saw the rags rise higher and higher above him until at last

they tumbled upon the floor from the body of a naked man--a thin,

a bony, a hideous caricature of man, that mouthed and mummed and,

wabbling upon its weak and shaking legs, crumpled to the floor

again, still laughing--laughing horribly.

It crawled toward Bradley. "Food! Food!" it screamed.

"There is a way out! There is a way out!"

Dragging itself to his side the creature slumped upon the

Englishman's breast. "Food!" it shrilled as with its bony

fingers and its teeth, it sought the man's bare throat.

"Food! There is a way out!" Bradley felt teeth upon his jugular.

He turned and twisted, shaking himself free for an instant; but

once more with hideous persistence the thing fastened itself

upon him. The weak jaws were unable to send the dull teeth through

the victim's flesh; but Bradley felt it pawing, pawing, pawing,

like a monstrous rat, seeking his life's blood.

The skinny arms now embraced his neck, holding the teeth to his

throat against all his efforts to dislodge the thing. Weak as it

was it had strength enough for this in its mad efforts to eat.

Mumbling as it worked, it repeated again and again, "Food! Food!

There is a way out!" until Bradley thought those two expressions

alone would drive him mad.

And all but mad he was as with a final effort backed by almost

maniacal strength he tore his wrists from the confining bonds and

grasping the repulsive thing upon his breast hurled it halfway

across the room. Panting like a spent hound Bradley worked at

the thongs about his ankles while the maniac lay quivering and

mumbling where it had fallen. Presently the Englishman leaped to

his feet--freer than he had ever before felt in all his life,

though he was still hopelessly a prisoner in the Blue Place of

Seven Skulls.

With his back against the wall for support, so weak the reaction

left him, Bradley stood watching the creature upon the floor.

He saw it move and slowly raise itself to its hands and knees,

where it swayed to and fro as its eyes roved about in search of

him; and when at last they found him, there broke from the drawn

lips the mumbled words: "Food! Food! There is a way out!"

The pitiful supplication in the tones touched the Englishman's heart.

He knew that this could be no Wieroo, but possibly once a man like

himself who had been cast into this pit of solitary confinement

with this hideous result that might in time be his fate, also.

And then, too, there was the suggestion of hope held out by the

constant reiteration of the phrase, "There is a way out."

Was there a way out? What did this poor thing know?

"Who are you and how long have you been here?" Bradley

suddenly demanded.

For a moment the man upon the floor made no response, then

mumblingly came the words: "Food! Food!"

"Stop!" commanded the Englishman--the injunction might have been

barked from the muzzle of a pistol. It brought the man to a

sitting posture, his hands off the ground. He stopped swaying to

and fro and appeared to be startled into an attempt to master his

faculties of concentration and thought.

Bradley repeated his questions sharply.

"I am An-Tak, the Galu," replied the man. "Luata alone knows how

long I have been here--maybe ten moons, maybe ten moons three

times"--it was the Caspakian equivalent of thirty. "I was young

and strong when they brought me here. Now I am old and very weak.

I am cos-ata-lu--that is why they have not killed me.

If I tell them the secret of becoming cos-ata-lu they will

take me out; but how can I tell them that which Luata alone knows?

"What is cos-ata-lu?" demanded Bradley.

"Food! Food! There is a way out!" mumbled the Galu.

Bradley strode across the floor, seized the man by his shoulders

and shook him.

"Tell me," he cried, "what is cos-ata-lu?"

"Food!" whimpered An-Tak.

Bradley bethought himself. His haversack had not been taken

from him. In it besides his razor and knife were odds and ends

of equipment and a small quantity of dried meat. He tossed a small

strip of the latter to the starving Galu. An-Tak seized upon it

and devoured it ravenously. It instilled new life in the man.

"What is cos-ata-lu?" insisted Bradley again.

An-Tak tried to explain. His narrative was often broken by

lapses of concentration during which he reverted to his plaintive

mumbling for food and recurrence to the statement that there was

a way out; but by firmness and patience the Englishman drew out

piece-meal a more or less lucid exposition of the remarkable

scheme of evolution that rules in Caspak. In it he found

explanations of the hitherto inexplicable. He discovered why he

had seen no babes or children among the Caspakian tribes with

which he had come in contact; why each more northerly tribe

evinced a higher state of development than those south of them;

why each tribe included individuals ranging in physical and

mental characteristics from the highest of the next lower race to

the lowest of the next higher, and why the women of each tribe

immersed themselves morning for an hour or more in the warm pools

near which the habitations of their people always were located;

and, too, he discovered why those pools were almost immune from

the attacks of carnivorous animals and reptiles.

He learned that all but those who were cos-ata-lu came up

cor-sva-jo, or from the beginning. The egg from which

they first developed into tadpole form was deposited, with

millions of others, in one of the warm pools and with it a

poisonous serum that the carnivora instinctively shunned.

Down the warm stream from the pool floated the countless billions

of eggs and tadpoles, developing as they drifted slowly toward

the sea. Some became tadpoles in the pool, some in the sluggish

stream and some not until they reached the great inland sea.

In the next stage they became fishes or reptiles, An-Tak was not

positive which, and in this form, always developing, they swam

far to the south, where, amid the rank and teeming jungles, some

of them evolved into amphibians. Always there were those whose

development stopped at the first stage, others whose development

ceased when they became reptiles, while by far the greater

proportion formed the food supply of the ravenous creatures of

the deep.

Few indeed were those that eventually developed into baboons and

then apes, which was considered by Caspakians the real beginning

of evolution. From the egg, then, the individual developed

slowly into a higher form, just as the frog's egg develops through

various stages from a fish with gills to a frog with lungs.

With that thought in mind Bradley discovered that it was not

difficult to believe in the possibility of such a scheme--

there was nothing new in it.

From the ape the individual, if it survived, slowly developed

into the lowest order of man--the Alu--and then by degrees to

Bo-lu, Sto-lu, Band-lu, Kro-lu and finally Galu. And in each

stage countless millions of other eggs were deposited in the warm

pools of the various races and floated down to the great sea to

go through a similar process of evolution outside the womb as

develops our own young within; but in Caspak the scheme is much

more inclusive, for it combines not only individual development

but the evolution of species and genera. If an egg survives it

goes through all the stages of development that man has passed

through during the unthinkable eons since life first moved upon

the earth's face.

The final stage--that which the Galus have almost attained and

for which all hope--is cos-ata-lu, which literally, means

no-egg-man, or one who is born directly as are the young of the

outer world of mammals. Some of the Galus produce cos-ata-lu

and cos-ata-lo both; the Weiroos only cos-ata-lu--in

other words all Wieroos are born male, and so they prey upon the

Galus for their women and sometimes capture and torture the Galu

men who are cos-ata-lu in an endeavor to learn the secret

which they believe will give them unlimited power over all other

denizens of Caspak.

No Wieroos come up from the beginning--all are born of the Wieroo

fathers and Galu mothers who are cos-ata-lo, and there are

very few of the latter owing to the long and precarious stages

of development. Seven generations of the same ancestor must come

up from the beginning before a cos-ata-lu child may be born;

and when one considers the frightful dangers that surround the

vital spark from the moment it leaves the warm pool where it has

been deposited to float down to the sea amid the voracious creatures

that swarm the surface and the deeps and the almost equally

unthinkable trials of its effort to survive after it once becomes

a land animal and starts northward through the horrors of the

Caspakian jungles and forests, it is plainly a wonder that even

a single babe has ever been born to a Galu woman.

Seven cycles it requires before the seventh Galu can complete the

seventh danger-infested circle since its first Galu ancestor

achieved the state of Galu. For ages before, the ancestors of

this first Galu may have developed from a Band-lu or Bo-lu egg

without ever once completing the whole circle--that is from a

Galu egg, back to a fully developed Galu.

Bradley's head was whirling before he even commenced to grasp the

complexities of Caspakian evolution; but as the truth slowly

filtered into his understanding--as gradually it became possible

for him to visualize the scheme, it appeared simpler. In fact,

it seemed even less difficult of comprehension than that with

which he was familiar.

For several minutes after An-Tak ceased speaking, his voice

having trailed off weakly into silence, neither spoke again.

Then the Galu recommenced his, "Food! Food! There is a way out!"

Bradley tossed him another bit of dried meat, waiting patiently

until he had eaten it, this time more slowly.

"What do you mean by saying there is a way out?" he asked.

"He who died here just after I came, told me," replied An-Tak.

"He said there was a way out, that he had discovered it but was

too weak to use his knowledge. He was trying to tell me how to

find it when he died. Oh, Luata, if he had lived but a moment more!"

"They do not feed you here?" asked Bradley.

"No, they give me water once a day--that is all."

"But how have you lived, then?"

"The lizards and the rats," replied An-Tak. "The lizards are not

so bad; but the rats are foul to taste. However, I must eat them

or they would eat me, and they are better than nothing; but of

late they do not come so often, and I have not had a lizard for

a long time. I shall eat though," he mumbled. "I shall eat now,

for you cannot remain awake forever." He laughed, a cackling, dry

laugh. "When you sleep, An-Tak will eat."

It was horrible. Bradley shuddered. For a long time each sat

in silence. The Englishman could guess why the other made no

sound--he awaited the moment that sleep should overcome his victim.

In the long silence there was born upon Bradley's ears a faint,

monotonous sound as of running water. He listened intently.

It seemed to come from far beneath the floor.

"What is that noise?" he asked. "That sounds like water running

through a narrow channel."

"It is the river," replied An-Tak. "Why do you not go to sleep?

It passes directly beneath the Blue Place of Seven Skulls. It runs

through the temple grounds, beneath the temple and under the city.

When we die, they will cut off our heads and throw our bodies into

the river. At the mouth of the river await many large reptiles.

Thus do they feed. The Wieroos do likewise with their own dead,

keeping only the skulls and the wings. Come, let us sleep."

"Do the reptiles come up the river into the city?" asked Bradley.

"The water is too cold--they never leave the warm water of the

great pool," replied An-Tak.

"Let us search for the way out," suggested Bradley.

An-Tak shook his head. "I have searched for it all these moons,"

he said. "If I could not find it, how would you?"

Bradley made no reply but commenced a diligent examination of the

walls and floor of the room, pressing over each square foot

and tapping with his knuckles. About six feet from the floor

he discovered a sleeping-perch near one end of the apartment.

He asked An-Tak about it, but the Galu said that no Weiroo

had occupied the place since he had been incarcerated there.

Again and again Bradley went over the floor and walls as high

up as he could reach. Finally he swung himself to the perch,

that he might examine at least one end of the room all the way

to the ceiling.

In the center of the wall close to the top, an area about three

feet square gave forth a hollow sound when he rapped upon it.

Bradley felt over every square inch of that area with the tips of

his fingers. Near the top he found a small round hole a trifle

larger in diameter than his forefinger, which he immediately

stuck into it. The panel, if such it was, seemed about an

inch thick, and beyond it his finger encountered nothing.

Bradley crooked his finger upon the opposite side of the panel

and pulled toward him, steadily but with considerable force.

Suddenly the panel flew inward, nearly precipitating the man to

the floor. It was hinged at the bottom, and when lowered the

outer edge rested upon the perch, making a little platform

parallel with the floor of the room.

Beyond the opening was an utterly dark void. The Englishman

leaned through it and reached his arm as far as possible into the

blackness but touched nothing. Then he fumbled in his haversack

for a match, a few of which remained to him. When he struck it,

An-Tak gave a cry of terror. Bradley held the light far into the

opening before him and in its flickering rays saw the top of a

ladder descending into a black abyss below. How far down it

extended he could not guess; but that he should soon know

definitely he was positive.

"You have found it! You have found the way out!" screamed An-Tak.

"Oh, Luata! And now I am too weak to go. Take me with you!

Take me with you!"

"Shut up!" admonished Bradley. "You will have the whole flock of

birds around our heads in a minute, and neither of us will escape.

Be quiet, and I'll go ahead. If I find a way out, I'll come back

and help you, if you'll promise not to try to eat me up again."

"I promise," cried An-Tak. "Oh, Luata! How could you blame me?

I am half crazed of hunger and long confinement and the horror of

the lizards and the rats and the constant waiting for death."

"I know," said Bradley simply. "I'm sorry for you, old top.

Keep a stiff upper lip." And he slipped through the opening,

found the ladder with his feet, closed the panel behind him, and

started downward into the darkness.

Below him rose more and more distinctly the sound of running water.

The air felt damp and cool. He could see nothing of his

surroundings and felt nothing but the smooth, worn sides and

rungs of the ladder down which he felt his way cautiously lest a

broken rung or a misstep should hurl him downward.

As he descended thus slowly, the ladder seemed interminable and

the pit bottomless, yet he realized when at last he reached the

bottom that he could not have descended more than fifty feet.

The bottom of the ladder rested on a narrow ledge paved with what

felt like large round stones, but what he knew from experience to

be human skulls. He could not but marvel as to where so many

countless thousands of the things had come from, until he paused

to consider that the infancy of Caspak dated doubtlessly back

into remote ages, far beyond what the outer world considered the

beginning of earthly time. For all these eons the Wieroos might

have been collecting human skulls from their enemies and their

own dead--enough to have built an entire city of them.

Feeling his way along the narrow ledge, Bradley came presently to

a blank wall that stretched out over the water swirling beneath

him, as far as he could reach. Stooping, he groped about with

one hand, reaching down toward the surface of the water, and

discovered that the bottom of the wall arched above the stream.

How much space there was between the water and the arch he could

not tell, nor how deep the former. There was only one way in

which he might learn these things, and that was to lower himself

into the stream. For only an instant he hesitated weighing

his chances. Behind him lay almost certainly the horrid fate of

An-Tak; before him nothing worse than a comparatively painless

death by drowning. Holding his haversack above his head with one

hand he lowered his feet slowly over the edge of the narrow platform.

Almost immediately he felt the swirling of cold water about his

ankles, and then with a silent prayer he let himself drop gently

into the stream.

Great was Bradley's relief when he found the water no more

than waist deep and beneath his feet a firm, gravel bottom. <