Nah-ee-lah and I passed through the village of
the No-vans undetected, since the people of Ga-va-go
were cowering in their huts, terror-stricken
by the storm. The girl led me immediately to high ground
and upward along a barren ridge toward the high mountains
in the distance. I could see that she was afraid though
she tried to hide it from me, putting on a brave front that
I was sure she was far from feeling. My respect for her
increased, as I have always respected courage, and I believe
that it requires the highest courage to do that which
fills one with fear. The man who performs heroic acts
without fear is less brave than he who overcomes his cowardice.
Realizing her fear I retained her hand in mine, that the
contact might impart to her a little of the confidence that
I felt, now that I was temporarily at least out of the clutches
of the Va-gas.
We had reached the ridge above the village when the
thought that we were weaponless and without means of protection
overwhelmed me. I had been in so much of a hurry
to escape the village that I had overlooked this very vital
consideration. I spoke to Nah-ee-lah about it, telling her
that I had best return to the village and make an effort to
regain possession of my own weapons and ammunition. She
tried to dissuade me, telling me that such an attempt was
foredoomed to failure and prophesying that I would be recaptured.
“But we cannot cross this savage world of yours, Nah-ee-lah,
without means of protection,” I urged. “We do not
know at what minute some fierce creature may confront us—think
how helpless we shall be without weapons with
which to defend ourselves.”
“There are only the Va-gas,” she said, “to fear in this
part of Va-nah. We know no other dangerous beast, except
the tor-ho. They are seldom seen. Against the Va-gas
your weapons would be useless, as you already have discovered.
The risk of meeting a tor-ho is infinitely less than
that which you will incur if you attempt to enter Ga-va-go’s
hut to secure your weapons. You simply could not do it
and escape, for doubtless the dwelling of the Chief is
crowded with warriors.”
I was compelled, finally, to admit the wisdom of her reasoning
and to forego an attempt to secure my rifle and pistol,
though I can assure you that I felt lost without them,
especially when thus venturing forth into a new world
so strange to me as Va-nah, and so savage. As a matter
of fact, from what I gleaned from Nah-ee-lah, there was
but a single spot upon the entire inner lunar world where
she and I could hope to be even reasonably free from danger,
and that was her native city of Laythe. Even there I
should have enemies, she told me, for her race is ever suspicious
of strangers; but the friendship of the princess
would be my protection, she assured me with a friendly
pressure of the hand.
The rain and wind must have persisted for a considerable
time, for when it was finally over and we looked back
through a clear atmosphere we found that a low range of
mountains lay between us and the distant sea. We had
crossed these and were upon a plateau at the foot of the
higher peaks. The sea looked very far away indeed, and
we could not even guess at the location of the No-vans village
from which we had escaped.
“Do you think they will pursue us?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said; “they will try to find us, but it will be
like looking for a raindrop in the ocean. They are creatures
of the lowlands—I am of the mountains. Down
there,” and she pointed into the valley, “they might find me
easily, but in my own mountains—no.”
“We are near Laythe?” I asked.
“I do not know. Laythe is hard to find—it is well hidden.
It is for this reason that it exists at all. Its founders
were pursued by the Kalkars, and had they not found an
almost inaccessible spot they would have been discovered
and slain long before they could have constructed an impregnable
city.”
She led me then straight into the mighty mountains of
the Moon, past the mouths of huge craters that reached
through the lunar crust to the surface of the satellite, along
the edges of yawning chasms that dropped three, four, yes,
sometimes five miles, sheer into frightful gorges, and then
out upon vast plateaus, but ever upward toward the higher
peaks that seemed to topple above us in the distance. The
craters, as a rule, lay in the deep gorges, but some we found
upon the plateaus, and even a few opened into the summits
of mountain peaks as do those upon the outer surface of
planets. Those in the low places were, I believe, the openings
through which the original molten lunar core was
vomitted forth by the surface volcanoes upon the outer
crust.
Nah-ee-lah told me that the secret entrance to Laythe lay
just below the lip of one of these craters, and it was this
she sought. To me the quest seemed hopeless, for as far
as the eye could reach lay naught but an indescribable jumble
of jagged peaks, terrific gorges and bottomless craters.
Yet always the girl seemed to find a way among or about
them—instinctively, apparently, she found trails and footholds
where there were no trails and where a chamois might
have been hard put to it to find secure footing.
In these higher altitudes we found a vegetation that differed
materially from that which grew in the lowlands.
Edible fruits and berries were, however, still sufficiently
plentiful to keep us reasonably well supplied with food.
When we were tired we usually managed to find a cave in
which we could rest in comparative security, and when it
was possible to do so Nah-ee-lah always insisted upon barricading
the entrance with rocks, since there was always
the danger, she told me, of our being attacked by tor-hos.
These bloodthirsty creatures while rare, were nevertheless
very much to be feared, since not only were they voracious
meat eaters and of such a savage disposition that they attacked
nearly everything they saw in wanton ferocity, but
even a minor wound inflicted by their fangs or talons often
proved fatal, because of the fact that their principal diet
was the poisonous flesh of the rympth and the flying toad.
I tried to get Nah-ee-lah to describe the creature to me, but
inasmuch as there was no creature with which we were both
familiar that she might compare it with, I learned little
more from her than that it stood between eighteen inches
and two feet in height, had long, sharp fangs, four legs and
was hairless.
As an aid to climbing, as well as to give me some means
of protection, I broke a stout and rather heavy branch from
one of the mountain trees, the wood of which was harder
than any that I had seen growing in the lowlands. To
roam a strange and savage world armed only with a wooden
stick seemed to me the height of rashness, but there was
no alternative until the time arrived when I might find the
materials with which to fashion more formidable weapons.
I had in mind a bow and arrows and was constantly on the
lookout for wood which I considered adapted to the former,
and I also determined to forego my cane for a spear whenever
the material for the making of one came to hand. I
had little time, however, for such things, as it seemed that
when we were not sleeping we were constantly upon the
move, Nah-ee-lah becoming more and more impatient to
find her native city as the chances for so doing lessened—and
it seemed to me that they were constantly lessening.
While I was quite sure that she had no more idea where
Laythe lay than I, yet we stumbled on and on and on,
through the most stupendous mountain ranges that the mind
of man can conceive, nor ever, apparently, did Nah-ee-lah
discover a single familiar landmark upon which to hang a
shred of hope that eventually we might come upon Laythe.
I never saw such a sanguine and hopeful person as Nah-ee-lah.
It was her constant belief that Laythe lay just beyond
the next mountain, in spite of the fact that she was
invariably mistaken—which seemed never to lessen the exuberance
of her enthusiasm for the next guess—which I
knew beforehand was going to be a wrong guess.
Once just after we had rounded the shoulder of a mountain,
we came upon a little strip of level land clinging to the
side of a mighty peak. I was in the lead—a position which
I tried always to take when it was not absolutely necessary
for Nah-ee-lah to go ahead in order to find a trail. As I
came around the shoulder of the mountain, and in full sight
of the little level area, I was positive that I saw a slight
movement among some bushes at my right about halfway
along one side of the little plain.
As we came abreast of the spot, upon which I kept my
eye, there broke upon our ears the most hideous scream
that I have ever heard, and simultaneously there leaped
from the concealment of the bushes a creature about the
size of a North American mountain lion, though quite evidently
a reptile and probably a tor-ho, as such it proved
to be. There was something about the head and face which
suggested the cat family to me, yet there was really no resemblance
between it and any of the earthly felines. It
came at me with those terrible curved fangs bared and
bristling and as it came it emitted the most terrifying sounds—I
have called them screams, because that word more
nearly describes them than any other, and yet they were a
combination of shrieks and moans—the most blood-curdling
that I have ever heard.
Nah-ee-lah grasped my arm. “Run!” she cried, “run.”
But I shook her loose and stood my ground. I wanted to
run, that I will admit, but where to? The creature was
covering the ground at tremendous speed and our only avenue
of escape was the narrow trail over which we had just
come, which clung precariously to the side of a perpendicular
cliff. And so I stood there waiting, my feeble stick grasped
in both hands. Just what I expected to do with it I scarcely
knew until the tor-ho was upon me. Then I swung for its
head as a batter swings for a pitched ball. I struck it square
upon the nose—a terrific blow that not only stopped it,
but felled it. I could hear the bones crushing beneath the
impact of my crude weapon and I thought that I had done
for the thing with that single blow, but I did not know the
tremendous vitality of the creature. Almost instantly it
was up and at me again, and again I struck it, this time
upon the side of the head, and again I heard bones crush
and again it fell heavily to the ground.
What appeared to be cold blood was oozing slowly from
its wounded face as it came at me for the third time, its
eyes glaring hideously, its broken jaws agape to seize me,
while its shrieks and moans rose to a perfect frenzy of rage
and pain. It reared up and struck at me with its talons
now, but I met it again with my bludgeon and this time I
broke a fore leg.
How long I fought that awful thing I cannot even guess.
Time and time again it charged me furiously and each time,
though often by but a miracle of fortune, I managed to
keep it from closing, and each blow that I delivered crushed
and maimed it a little more, until at last it was nothing but
a bleeding wreck of pulp, still trying to crawl toward me
upon its broken legs and seize me and drag me down with
its broken, toothless jaws. Even then it was with the
greatest difficulty that I killed it, that I might put it out
of its misery.
Rather exhausted, I turned to look for Nah-ee-lah, and
much to my surprise, I found her standing directly behind
me.
“I thought you had run away,” I said.
“No,” she said, “you did not run and so I did not, but
I never thought that you would be able to kill it.”
“You thought that it would kill me, then?” I asked.
“Certainly,” she replied. “Even now I cannot understand
how you were able to overcome a tor-ho with that
pitiful little stick of wood.”
“But if you thought I was going to be killed,” I insisted,
“why was it that you did not seek safety in flight?”
“If you had been killed I should not have cared to live,”
she said simply.
I did not exactly understand her attitude and scarcely
knew what reply to make.
“It was very foolish of you,” I said at last, rather blunderingly,
“and if we are attacked again you must run and
save yourself.”
She looked at me for a moment with a peculiar expression
upon her face which I could not interpret and then
turned and resumed her way in the direction in which we
had been traveling when our journey had been interrupted
by the tor-ho. She did not say anything, but I felt that I
had offended her and I was sorry. I did not want her falling
in love with me, though, and according to earthly standards,
her statement that she would rather die than live without
me might naturally have been interpreted as a confession
of love. The more I thought of it, however, as we
moved along in silence, the more possible it seemed to me
that her standards might differ widely from mine and that
I was only proving myself to be an egotistical ass in assuming
that Nah-ee-lah loved me. I wished that I might
explain matters to her, but it is one of those things that is
rather difficult to explain, and I realized that it might be
made much worse if I attempted to do so.
We had been such good friends and our fellowship had
been so perfect that the apparently strained silence which
existed between us was most depressing. Nah-ee-lah had
always been a talkative little person and always gay and
cheerful, even under the most trying conditions.
I was rather tired out after my encounter with the tor-ho
and should have liked to stop for a rest, but I did not suggest
it, neither did Nah-ee-lah, and so we continued on our
seemingly interminable way, though, almost exhausted as I
was, I dropped some little distance behind my beautiful
guide.
She was quite out of sight ahead of me upon the winding
trail when suddenly I heard her calling my name aloud. I
answered her as, simultaneously, I broke into a run, for I
did not know but what she might be in danger, though her
voice did not sound at all like it. She was only a short distance
ahead and when I came in sight of her I saw her
standing at the edge of a mighty crater. She was facing
me and she was smiling.
“Oh, Julian,” she cried, “I have found it. I am home
and we are safe at last.”
“I am glad, Nah-ee-lah,” I said. “I have been much
worried on account of the dangers to which you have been
constantly subjected, as well as because of a growing fear
that you would never be able to find Laythe.”
“Oh, my!” she exclaimed, “I knew that I would find it.
If I had to hunt through every mountain range in Va-nah
I would have found it.”
“You are quite sure that this is the crater where lies the
entrance to Laythe?” I asked her.
“There is no doubt of it, Julian,” she replied, and she
pointed downward over the lip of the crater toward a narrow
ledge which lay some twenty feet below and upon which
I saw what appeared to be the mouth of a cave opening
into the crater.
“But, how are we going to reach it?” I asked.
“It may be difficult,” she replied, “but we will find a
way.”
“I hope so, Nah-ee-lah,” I said, “but without a rope or
wings I do not see how we are going to accomplish it.”
“In the mouth of the tunnel,” explained Nah-ee-lah,
“there are long poles, each of which has a hook at one end.
Ages ago there were no other means of ingress or egress
to the city and those who came out to hunt or for any other
purpose came through this long tunnel from the city, and
from the ledge below they raised their poles and placed the
hooked ends over the rim of the crater, after which it was
a simple matter to clamber up or down the poles as they
wished; but it has been long since these tunnels were used
by the people of Va-nah, who had no further need of them
after the perfection of the flying wings which you saw me
using when I was captured by the Va-gas.”
“If they used poles, so may we,” I said, “since there are
plenty of young trees growing close to the rim of the
crater. The only difficulty will be in felling one of them.”
“We can do that,” said Nah-ee-lah, “if we can find some
sharp fragments of stone. It will be slow work, but it can
be done,” and she started immediately to hunt for a fragment
with a cutting edge. I joined her in the search and
it was not long before we had discovered several pieces of
obsidian with rather sharp edges. We then started to work
upon a young tree about four inches in diameter that grew
almost straight for a height of some thirty feet.
Cutting the tree down with our bits of lava glass was
tedious work, but finally it was accomplished, and we were
both much elated when the tree toppled and fell to the
ground. Cutting away the branches occupied almost as
long a time, but that, too, was finally accomplished. The
next problem which confronted us was that of making the
top of the pole secure enough to hold while we descended
to the ledge before the mouth of the tunnel. We had no
rope and nothing with which to fashion one, other than my
garments, which I was loth to destroy, inasmuch as in these
higher altitudes it was often cold. Presently, however, I
hit upon a plan which, if Nah-ee-lah’s muscles and my
nerves withstood the strain it put upon them, bade fair to
assure the success of our undertaking. I lowered the larger
end of the pole over the side of the crater until the butt
rested upon the ledge before the mouth of the tunnel. Then
I turned to Nah-ee-lah.
“Lie down flat at full length, Nah-ee-lah,” I directed her,
“and hold this pole securely with both hands. You will
only have to keep it from toppling to the sides or outward,
and to that, I think, your strength is equal. While you hold
it, I will descend to the mouth of the tunnel and raise one
of the regular hooked poles which you say should be deposited
there. If they are not, I believe that I can hold
our own pole securely from below while you descend.” She
looked over into the vast abyss below and shuddered. “I
can hold it at the top,” she said, “if the bottom does not
slip from the ledge.”
“That is a chance that I shall have to take,” I replied,
“but I will descend very carefully and I think there will
be little danger upon that score.”
I could see, upon a more careful examination of the
ledge below, that there was some danger of an accident
such as she suggested.
Nah-ee-lah took her position as I had directed and lay
grasping the pole securely in both hands at the rim of the
crater, which was absolutely perpendicular at this point,
and I prepared to make the perilous descent.
I can assure you that my sensations were far from pleasurable
as I looked over into that awful abyss. The crater
itself was some four or five miles in diameter, and, as I
had every reason to suspect, extended fully two hundred
and fifty miles through the lunar crust to the surface of
the Moon. It was one of the most impressive moments of
my life as I clung balancing upon the edge of that huge
orifice, gazing into the silent, mysterious depths below. And
then I seized the pole very gently and lowered myself over
the edge.
“Courage, Julian!” whispered Nah-ee-lah; “I shall hold
very tight.”
“I shall be quite safe, Nah-ee-lah,” I assured her. “I
must be safe, for if I am not, how are you to reach the
ledge and Laythe?”
As I descended very slowly I tried not to think at all,
but to exclude from my mind every consideration of the
appalling depths beneath me. I could not have been more
than two feet from the ledge when the very thing that we
both tried so hard to guard against transpired—a splintered
fragment of the pole’s butt crumpled beneath my weight and
that slight jar was just sufficient to start the base of my
precarious ladder sliding toward the edge of the narrow
projection upon which I had rested it, and beyond which
lay eternity. Above me I heard a slight scream and then
the pole slipped from the ledge and I felt myself falling.
It was over in an instant. My feet struck the ledge and
I threw myself within the mouth of the tunnel. And then,
above me, I heard Nah-ee-lah’s voice crying in agonized
tones:
“Julian! Julian! I am falling!”
Instantly I sprang to my feet and peered upward from
the mouth of the tunnel upon a sight that froze my blood,
so horrifying did it seem, for there above me, still clinging
to the pole, hung Nah-ee-lah, her body, with the exception
of her legs, completely over the edge of the crater. Just
as I looked up she dropped the pole and although I made
a grab for it I missed it and it fell past me into the maw
of the crater.
“Julian! Julian! You are safe!” she cried; “I am
glad of that. It terrified me so when I thought you were
falling and I tried my best to hold the pole, but your weight
dragged me over the edge of the crater. Good-bye, Julian,
I cannot hold on much longer.”
“You must, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried; “do not forget the
hooked poles that you told me of. I will find one and
have you down in no time.” And even as I spoke I turned
and dove into the tunnel; but my heart stood still at the
thought that the poles might not be there. My first glance
revealed only the bare rock of walls and floor and ceiling
and no hooked poles in sight. I sprang quickly farther
into the tunnel which turned abruptly a few yards ahead
of me and just around the bend my eyes were gladdened
by the sight of a dozen or more of the poles which Nah-ee-lah
had described. Seizing one of them, I ran quickly
back to the entrance. I was almost afraid to look up, but
as I did so I was rewarded by the sight of Nah-ee-lah’s
face smiling down at, me—she could smile even in the face
of death, could Nah-ee-lah.
“Just a moment more, Nah-ee-lah!” I cried to her, as I
raised the pole and caught the hook upon the crater’s rim.
There were small protuberances on either side of the pole
for its entire length, which made climbing it comparatively
simple.
“Make haste, Julian!” she cried, “I am slipping.”
It wasn’t necessary for her to tell me to make haste. I
think that I never did anything more quickly in my life
than I climbed that pole, but I reached her not an instant
too soon, for even as my arm slipped about her, her hold
upon the ledge above gave way, and she came down head
foremost upon me. I had no difficulty in catching her and
supporting her weight. My only fear was that the hook
above might not sustain the added weight under the strain
of her falling body. But it held, and I blessed the artisan
who had made it thus strong.
A moment later I had descended to the mouth of the
tunnel and drawn Nah-ee-lah into the safety of its interior.
My arm was still around her and hers about me as
she stood there sobbing upon my breast. She was utterly
relaxed and her supple body felt so helpless against me
that there was suddenly aroused within me a feeling such
as I had never experienced before—a rather indescribable
feeling, yet one which induced, seemingly, an irresistible
and ridiculous desire to go forth and slay whole armies of
men in protection of this little Moon Maid. It must have
been a sudden mental reversion to some ancient type of
crusading ancestor of the Middle Ages—some knight in
armor from whose loins I had sprung, transmitting to me
his own flamboyant, yet none the less admirable, chivalry.
The feeling rather surprised me, for I have always considered
myself more or less practical and hard-headed.
But more sober thought finally convinced me that it was
but a nervous reaction from the thrilling moments through
which we had both just passed, coupled with her entire
helplessness and dependence upon me. Be that as it may,
I disengaged her arms from about my neck as gently and
as quickly as I could and lowered her carefully to the floor
of the tunnel, so that she sat with her back leaning against
one of the walls.
“You are very brave, Julian,” she said, “and very
strong.”
“I am afraid I am not very brave,” I told her. “I am
almost weak from fright even now—I was so afraid that
I would not reach you in time, Nah-ee-lah.”
“It is the brave man who is afraid after the danger is
past,” she said. “He has no time to think of fear until
after the happening is all over. You may have been afraid
for me, Julian, but you could not have been afraid for
yourself, or otherwise you would not have taken the risk
of catching me as I fell. Even now I cannot understand
how you were able to hold me.”
“Perhaps,” I reminded her, “I am stronger than the men
of Va-nah, for my earthly muscles are accustomed to overcoming
a gravity six times as great as that upon your world.
Had this same accident happened upon Earth I might not
have been able to hold you when you fell.”
