Presently La-ja stopped. "Which way is your country, Dangar?" she asked.
He pointed down the valley. "That way," he said, "until we reach the end of these high hills; then I turn to the right."
"It is not my way," said La-ja. "Lo-har lies this way," and she pointed straight toward the forest. "Now I must leave you and go to my own country."
"The forest does not look good to me," said Dangar. "Perhaps you would never get through it alive. Come to Sari with Von and me. You will be well treated."
The girl shook her head. "I am the daughter of a chief," she said. "I must return to Lo-har and bear sons, for my father has none; otherwise there will be no good chief to rule over my father's people after he is dead."
"But you cannot go alone," said von Horst. "You could never come through alive. You would merely be throwing away your life, and then you would never have any sons at all."
"I must go," she insisted, "or for what purpose am I the daughter of a chief?"
"Aren't you afraid?" asked von Horst.
"I am the daughter of a chief," she said, with her chin in the air, defiantly; but von Horst thought that her square little chin trembled. Perhaps it was just a shadow.
"Good-by, Dangar," she said presently, and turned away from them toward the forest. She did not say good-bye to von Horst; she did not even look at him.
The man from the outer crust watched the trim, clean cut figure of the girl as she made her way toward the wood. He noted for the thousandth time the poise of that blond head, the almost regal carriage, the soft and graceful tread of the panther.
The man did not know what motivated him, he could not interpret the urges that seemed to possess him; something quite beyond reason, something that exhilarated one as might an inspiration, prompted him. He did not wish to reason it out; he wished merely to obey. He turned to Dangar.
"Good-by," he said.
"Good-by?" exclaimed Dangar. "Where are you going?"
"I am going to Lo-har with La-ja," replied von Horst.
VIII – THE FOREST OF DEATH
DANGAR LOOKED at von Horst with surprise as the latter announced that he was going with La-ja. "Why?" he asked.
Von Horst shook his head. "I do not know," he replied. "I have one excellent reason, and that is that I could not see a girl go alone through this savage country, into that beastly-looking forest; but I know that there is something else, much deeper, that impels me; something as inexplicable and inescapable as instinct."
"I will come with you," said Dangar.
Von Horst shook his head. "No. Go on to Sari. If I live, I'll follow you later."
"You could never find Sari."
"With your help, I can."
"How can I help you if I am not with you?" demanded Dangar.
"You can blaze the trail. Put marks on trees. Place stones upon the ground, like this, showing the direction you are going." He placed some stones in a row pointing in the direction they had been going, forming an arrow. "Mostly you follow animal trails; so you will have only to indicate the places that you branch off from the main trails. If you will do these things, I can follow you. I shall blaze my trail from here to wherever I go; so that I can find my way back."
"I do not like to leave you," said Dangar.
"It is best," replied von Horst. "There is a girl waiting for you in Sari. There is no one waiting for me anywhere. We do not know how far it is to La-ja's country. We might never reach it; we might never return if we did. It is best that you go on to Sari."
"Very well," said Dangar. "I shall be expecting you there. Good-by." He turned and started off down the little valley.
Von Horst watched him for a moment, thinking of the strange circumstances that had brought them together across five hundred thousand years; thinking also of the even more remarkable fact that they had found so much in common upon which to build an enduring friendship. He sighed and turned in the direction that La-ja had gone.
The girl was half way to the forest, swinging along easily with her chin up and never looking back. She looked so little against the background of that mighty forest, and so brave. Something very much like tears momentarily dimmed the man's eyes as he watched her; then he set out after her.
Something of what he was doing he realized, but not all. He knew that it was quite likely that he was following the girl into an untracked wilderness from which neither of them would ever emerge; and that he was cutting himself off, doubtlessly forever, from his only friend in all this savage world, from the chance to go to a country where he might live in comparative security and make new friends—and all this for a girl who shunned and snubbed him. But what he did not know was that Jason Gridley would eventually decide to remain in the inner world, when the rest of the expedition sailed for the north polar opening and the outer crust, and proceed to Sari, there to form an expedition to search for him. He did not know that he was quite probably throwing away this one chance for succor; but if he had known it, there is little likelihood that it would have altered his decision.
He overtook La-ja just at the edge of the forest. She had heard his footsteps behind her and had turned to see who or what was following her. She did not seem greatly surprised. In fact, it seemed to von Horst that nothing could surprise La-ja.
"What do you want?" she inquired.
"I am going with you to Lo-har," he replied.
"The warriors of Lo-har will probably kill you when you get there," she prophesied cheerfully.
"I am going with you just the same," insisted von Horst.
"I did not ask you to come. You had better go back and go to Sari with Dangar."
"Listen to me, La-ja," he begged. "I cannot let you go alone, knowing the dangers you may have to face—wild beasts and savage men. I must go with you as long as there is no one else to go; so why can't we be friends? Why do you dislike me so? What have I done?"
"If you come with me it will have to be as though we were friends—just friends—whether we are friends or not," she replied, ignoring his last two queries. "Do you understand that—just as friends?"
"I understand," he said. "Have I ever asked more of you?"
"No." She rather snapped the word.
"Nor shall I. My only thought is for your safety. When you are among your own people, I shall leave you."
"If they don't kill you before you can escape," she reminded him.
"Why should they wish to kill me?" he demanded.
"You are a stranger; and we always kill strangers, so that they will not kill us—or nearly always. Sometimes, if we have reason to like them very much we let them live; but Gaz will not like you. He will kill you if the others don't."
"Who is Gaz? Why should he wish to kill me?"
"Gaz is a great warrior, a mighty hunter; single-handed he has killed a ryth."
"I am not a ryth; so I still don't see why he should wish to kill me," insisted von Horst.
"He will not like it when he learns that we have been together for so many sleeps. He is a very jealous man."
"What is he to you?" demanded von Horst.
"He hoped to mate with me before I was captured by the Bastian. If he has not taken another mate, he will still wish to. Gaz has a very quick temper and a very bad one. He has killed many men. Often he kills them first and then inquires about them later. Thus has he killed many men whom he would not have killed had he taken the time to discover that they had not harmed him."
"Do you wish to mate with him?" asked von Horst.
She shrugged her shapely shoulders. "I must mate with some one, for I must bear sons that Lo-har may have a chief when my father dies; and La-ja would mate only with a mighty man. Gaz is a mighty man."