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down, literally into ribbons; strangely enough, the flesh had escaped
even a scratch.
Drorathusa was badly shaken, and little wonder, forsooth. It had
been a miraculous escape from terrible injury, from a most horrible
death. A few moments, however, and she was as composed as
though nothing had happened. Truly there was much to admire in
this extraordinary woman.
Rhodes and I turned and examined the body, now lying quite still. It
was that of a big cat. Strictly speaking, it was not, I suppose, a cat; it
was not like anything that we had even seen or heard of. But a cat I
shall call it, not knowing what other word to use. The head was long
and of an aspect strikingly, repulsively snake-like. So was the neck.
This reptilian resemblance was enhanced by the head's being
absolutely destitute of hair, save for the vibrissae, which were really
enormous. The body was dark, curiously mottled with gray. The
breast and the belly were snowy white.
"Hum," said Milton Rhodes. "A strange and terrible creature, Bill.
This wilderness must be a real one when we find a carnivore like this
subsisting in it. And Goodness only knows of what other beasts it is
the habitat."
"Yes. And, with such creatures in the woods, our journey through
them is likely to prove an interesting one."
"Most interesting. O well," said Rhodes, "we have our revolvers, and
the Dromans have their bows and arrows, to say nothing of their
swords. And they know how to use them, too."
"And that reminds me," I told him: "I haven't reloaded my
blunderbuss."
"Save those shells, Bill."
"What for?"
"So we can reload them."
"Reload them? Do you think we'll be able to do that in this world
called Drome."
"Why not?"
"But how—?"
Rhodes turned like a flash.
"Hear that?" he said. "By the great Nimrod, another one!"
The darkness still lay impenetrable, pitchy. We flashed our lights into
the trees, this way and that, all about us; but no eyes were seen
gleaming at us, nothing was seen moving save the shadows, and not
the faintest sound was heard.
The Dromans were listening intently, but it was patent that they had
not heard that sound which had whirled Rhodes about; nor had I
heard it myself.
"Are you sure," I queried, "that there was a sound?"
"I most certainly thought that I heard something."
"Look!" I cried, pointing upward.
Through openings in the foliage, were to be seen pale flickerings of
light.
"Thank Goodness," Rhodes said, "we'll soon again have light. I hope
that this time it will last."
And we soon did—the strong mystic, and yet strangely misty, light
pervading the mysterious and dreadful wood, the flickerings and
flashes overhead soon opalescent and as beautiful as ever.
We at once (Ondonarkus having picked up his arrow and
Zenvothunbro drawn his from the body of the cat) left that spot, to
make our way deeper and deeper into that forest, which harbored
enemies so terrible and so treacherous.
"Why," I queried, "didn't we camp up there on rocks, where it would
have been impossible (save in one of these periods of darkness) for
anything to approach us unseen? We had made a day's good
journey; and here we have gone and left a place of safety to camp
somewhere in this horrible wood."
"What," returned Milton Rhodes, "would that have been but
postponing the inevitable? For into these trees we should have had
to go, sooner or later, and the thing would have been watching for us
just the same. As you say, we had made a good journey for the day;
well, aren't we making it better?"
"It isn't ended yet."
"This place, after all, Bill, may not be so bad as it seems."
"Well, there is one consolation," I remarked: "there is no danger of
our starving to death in this lovely Dante's Inferno. Look at all the
fruit and nuts and things."
"Yes. From that point of view, the place is a veritable Garden of the
Hesperides."
At length we reached the stream, considerably larger than I had
expected to find it. At this point where we struck it, the water was
deep, the current a gentle one. The rich forest growth hung out over
the surface for some distance. There was a soft rustling of leaves,
for some of the branches dipped into the water and were swaying to
and fro. This and the faint, melancholy whisper of the gliding element
were all that broke the heavy, deathlike stillness. It was a placid, a
lovely scene.
The attainment of this their objective seemed to give our Dromans
much pleasure; but, save for the fact that there was now no danger
of our perishing of thirst, I could not see that we were any better off
than we had been.
I thought that this would be the end of our march, now a long one
indeed. But the Dromans merely paused, then started down the
stream; and, of course, along with them went Rhodes and myself.
At times we had literally to force our way through the dense and
tangled undergrowth; then we would be moving through lovely aisles
—