Читать книгу The Crystal Sceptre - Philip Verrill Mighels - Страница 4

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Neither men nor apes, yet clearly creatures which were nearly the one and on the verge of being the other, these inhabitants of the place had evidently been observing my form, in a spirit of cautious curiosity, for a number now came swinging down from trees adjacent to the one I had occupied, and the ones upon the ground set up a series of singular cries.

Having landed on my feet, hatless, but otherwise stoutly clad, I threw my hand to my belt, instinctively, desiring to arm myself against possible aggression. I found only my knife remaining. This weapon I merely hauled around by sliding the belt, to bring the dagger directly beneath my hand. The creatures about me were a score or so in number, standing erect, apparently much excited, yet threatening no attack. Their movements were restless; their roundish, near-together eyes were constantly moving, like those of a monkey; they circled about me, uttering guttural monosyllables, with many inflections. Every one of them gripped in a powerful hand the haft of a rude sort of club, fashioned out of a rock, lashed firmly to the end of a stout piece of wood.

The mutual inspection between us lasted several minutes. I could detect but little difference between any two of the beings. They were nearly as tall as I, averaging about five feet six inches; they were thin, wiry, entirely naked, long-armed, flat-nosed, big-jawed and covered, on their legs and arms, with a thin and somewhat straggling growth of hair. Their skin was a reddish light-brown in colour; their feet were large, but much like hands, having the great toe set back like a thumb; their legs were slender and poorly shaped, but exceedingly muscular; their shoulders and backs were round.

One of the first to drop from a tree was a giant among them, a creature more than six feet tall, active as a panther, commanding in aspect, and possessing arms that reached fully to his knees. He carried a remarkable club which was made of a great chunk of rock-crystal, secured at the end of a polished bone, large and straight. This crystal still had its gleaming points and facets preserved; it therefore inspired me with a dread of the jagged hole it could smash in the skull of the largest animal.

Amazed as I was by what I saw, my astonishment was instantly increased when I observed the only female creature I had yet beheld. She issued from a copse and took her place beside the giant, who stood leaning on his club, eyeing myself nervously. She was a pure albino. Her hair, which was long and coarse, was as white as foam, her eyes were as pink as a rabbit’s; her complexion was florid red on white. With a rudimentary modesty, she stood partially concealed behind the giant, although she was “clothed” in a patch of skin from a pure white gull, in addition to a sort of rude necklace of claws.

What were they? Where was I? What would they do? These questions I asked myself rapidly a hundred times, as the creatures continued to edge about me and to chatter obvious comments. I could only answer what they were, and my premature conclusion may have been wide of the truth, yet I dubbed them Missing Links without the slightest hesitation.

For a space of at least ten minutes I was subjected to the closest scrutiny, during which time I kept the keenest possible watch on every movement, behind as well as before me. Resistance, however, would have been madness, had they closed in for a battle. There was evident indecision among these Links as to what they should do, and I was equally at a loss to determine what I most desired with regard to themselves. I now underwent another sensation. Pushing his way through the circle came a fat, waddling “fellow,” who afforded as great a contrast to the ordinary Links as did the female albino. He was entirely black. As if to render him quite grotesque, his legs were thick and bowed, his stomach was large and glistening, and his head was crowned with a skull, securely tied in place with thongs which passed beneath his chin. But his face was so irresistibly comical, with its broad, good-natured grin, that I smiled in actual forgetfulness of where I was.

At this he approached, holding forth in his hand a luscious fruit, the like of which I had never seen. A murmur—plainly of dissent, or warning—went up from his companions. Two or three made as if to drag him roughly back by the leg. I fancied I understood him to be an emissary of peace, and therefore deciding instantly that I preferred to be friendly, I took a step forward and held out my hand. With a look of gratitude, mingled with one of suspicious uncertainty, the fat chap gave me the fruit and capered clumsily away, out of possible reach.

Grunts of wonder and perhaps also of relief, greeted my acceptance of this overture of hospitality. The Links settled in their tracks, to see what would happen next, many of them standing with arms akimbo and glancing from me to the giant, rapidly, by which I concluded that he was a chieftain to whom they looked for a final decision of the case. Trusting that the action might create a salutary impression on the audience, I drew my knife from its scabbard and proceeded to cut away the thick, hard rind of the fruit, paying not the slightest attention to the exclamations which followed this exhibition of the sharpness and use of the gleaming blade. When the fruit was peeled, I put the knife away and ate as delicious and juicy a thing as ever a man has known, provoking thereby a feeling of undisguised pleasure in the Links and of apparent ecstasy in the breast of the fat one who had provided the breakfast.

“Now,” said I, when the thing was gone, “who are you fellows, and what do you want?”

I was surprised at myself for thus addressing this half-ape gathering, but they were smitten temporarily dumb at the sound of my voice. I made a gesture of cordiality and turned completely around in the circle, finally holding both my hands extended to the giant.

The chatter was instantly resumed. One of their “words,” in a language which seemed to me to be exceedingly limited and primitive, was, as nearly as pen can write it.

“Tzheck.”

Having caught this I attempted to repeat it, pointing to myself meantime with my thumb, for it occurred to my mind that they called not only myself but also their species by the name, and I desired to assure them I was “one of themselves,” for at least they were better than no companions in this unknown land.

My action evidently met with approval. They advanced, retreated, pushed each other near and otherwise exhibited a desire to know what I was. But still they had a fear of my presence, although they were now in a mood of timid friendliness. Up to this the chief of the Links had not “spoken” a word. He now gave a command, or something of the sort, when each of the others raised his club to rest it on his shoulder, as if in readiness to beat me to death in case a necessity should arise. The giant then came boldly up and extending a finger, touched my clothing. The feeling of the cloth caused him to tell something to his followers, all of whom were breathless with attention.

Thinking I understood his perplexity, I quickly unfastened my coat and shirt, exhibiting the whiter portion of my neck, for the part exposed was tanned very much the colour of his own. This action begot a great enthusiasm, responding to which I pulled my coat off entirely, when the amazement of all was complete. I repeated their word “Tzheck” again, whereupon they set up a clamorous conversation in monosyllables, among themselves, and came yet closer, the better to place their hands upon me. The impression was borne in upon me that they knew somewhat of what I was, but were puzzled by the clothing I wore.

All this preface to a mutual friendship and understanding, which I much desired as a guarantee of my personal safety, was progressing well when a sudden scream threw all into a state of violent alarm. No sooner did I turn than I beheld the appalling sight of thirty or forty huge, genuine ourang-outangs, descending upon us from the near-by jungle. Two of these had swooped upon the albino female and were struggling to carry her off. I saw the giant nearly smash the head from the shoulders of one, with his iridescent club, and rescue his mate in a second. Then a fierce engagement commenced about me on every side.

It was a horrible conflict. The monster ourangs, half erect, appeared like so many fiends, as they launched themselves in overwhelming numbers on the Links, their mouths drooling, and bristling with fangs, their hatred of the more human creatures expressed by the fury with which they attempted to mangle and murder all the band. The Links, screaming out a word which thrilled me as a battle cry of a courageous few whose fight was all but hopeless, smote lustily with their clubs, sinking the rock-end in many a skull, breaking arms, legs and ribs, yet wasting superlative effort from lack of skill and discipline. Although they fought their foe with more acumen than as many undrilled men could have done, I thought they must fly or all be killed, for the odds were too heavy by far.

In the midst of the uproar and turmoil, of which I had been the centre for a time, a singular snarl, as of triumph, issued from one of the attacking brutes. He had discovered myself. Immediately half a dozen would have rushed upon me, had I not been still somewhat surrounded by the Links. As it was, two ourangs rushed in, headlong, to do me violence.

I had been about to fight for my “friends,” and therefore held my dagger in my hand. I plunged it quickly in the throat of the beast that gripped my shoulder, nearly severing the creature’s head from its body. As he fell I stabbed the other to the heart, but felt so great a rib that I knew I had reached his life by the merest good fortune.

That I then grew hot and eager for blood, I admit. I received the next that came with a lunge which ripped him open entirely across the abdomen. My knowledge of boxing and fencing stood me well. I attacked a monster who was all but killing my fat, good-natured Link, and crashed the steel fairly through the spinal column at the base of his brain. The smell of blood and the flash of that gory knife seemed to affect the attacking brutes with horror. Yet the next ones that came would have killed me outright had not the fat Link beaten out the brains of one and broken the arm of the other, which then was readily despatched.

Seeing the advantage of a club, I clutched up one which an overmastered Link had dropped, and swung it madly. With this and the knife, I not only defended myself but became a champion of the Links as well. The fight, with its din of thuds and animal shrieks and screams of agony, began to concentrate about three Links and myself. A long, hairy arm, with an iron-like hand, was thrust across my shoulder and my throat was in a deadly grip. I dropped the club and slashed my blade across the wrist, severing the stiff, white cords. Then I swung in a blow that buried the steel to the hilt. The brute fell heavily, dragging the knife from my hand. Instantly two more great animals were upon me and over I went, already scratched and slightly bitten. For a moment I struggled in desperation; then a horrible black face came down toward my own, the jaws awide for a fastening on my neck.

Down swept a gleaming streak. The rock-crystal club knocked the face, head and all, away, as if it had been a potato on a stick. Another blow killed my second assailant like a fly might be killed on a window. I bounded up with a club in my hand. The giant Link was beating his way through the foe like a doomsman. With a cry of hatred and fear, the remaining ourang-outangs, and many of the wounded, suddenly turned and fled. The battle had been brief and bloody; it had demonstrated a fierceness and power incredible in the Links, a power which, if concentrated and properly employed, would excel that of twice the number of human savages.

I found my knife and pulled it forth from its sheath of flesh. Collecting his following about him with a word, the giant leader touched me on the arm and pointed toward the jungle. The wounded of “our” force limped from the scene; our dead, who were three in number, were carried by those who were still unhurt. With the albino mate of the chief I walked away, surrounded by the chattering Links, whose conduct toward me, I was sure, was that of a friendly “people.” The fat fellow was next to idiotic in his gratitude for the stroke which had saved his life.

I had fought with them, bled with them, eaten of their food and endeavoured to show them my good intentions and wishes toward themselves. They were manifestly aware of all. I felt strongly drawn to the singular beings, alone with them and dependent upon them; I felt that for weal or woe I was at least a temporary companion to, if not an integral part of, a band of Missing Links.