"Well," I said, sullenly, "I shall do what I said I'd do, if I ever see your father again."
"And do you know what he will do?"
"If he's the right kind of a father he'll say, 'Bless you, my children.'"
"He is a jong before he is a father, and he will have you destroyed. Even if you do not make any such mad admission to him, I shall have to use all of my powers of persuasion to save you from death."
Why should he kill me?"
"No man who has spoken, without royal permission, to a janjong, or princess, is ordinarily permitted to live. That you may be with me alone for months and possibly years before we return to Vepaja will but tend to exaggerate the seriousness of the situation. I shall plead your service to me; that you risked your life innumerable times to preserve mine; and that I think will have sufficient weight to save you from death; but, of course, you will be banished from Vepaja."
"That is a pleasant outlook. I may lose my life, and I am certain to lose you. Under such circumstances, do you think that I will prosecute the search for Vepaja with much enthusiasm or diligence?"
"Perhaps not with enthusiasm; but with diligence, yes. You will do it for me, because of that thing which you call love."
"Possibly you are right," I said, and I knew that she was.
The next day we started, in accordance with a plan we had formulated, to follow the little river down toward the big river along which we would continue to the sea. Where we should go from there was problematical. We decided to wait until we reached the sea before making any further plans. What lay before us we could not guess; had we been able to we might have fled back to the comparative safety of the gloomy forest we had so recently quitted with delight.
Late in the afternoon we were taking a short cut across open ground where the river made a great bend. It was rather rough going, for there were many rocks and bowlders and the surface of the land was cut by gullies.
* * * * *
As we clambered up the bank of a particularly deep gully I chanced to glance back and saw a strange animal standing on the opposite rim watching us. It was about the size of a German police dog, but there the similarity ceased. It had a massive, curved beak remarkably similar to that of a parrot; and its body was covered with feathers; but it was no bird, for it went on four legs and had no wings. Forward of its two short ears were three horns, one in front of either ear and the third growing midway between the others. As it turned part way around to look back at something we could not see, I saw that it had no tail. At a distance its legs and feet appeared bird-like.
"Do you see what I see, Duare?" I asked, nodding in the direction of the weird creature; "or am I suffering from a touch of fever?"
"Of course I see it," she replied, "but I don't know what it is. I am sure that there is no such creature on the island of Vepaja ."
"There's another of them, and another, and another!" I exclaimed. "Lord! there must be a dozen of them."
They were standing in a little knot surveying us when suddenly the one we had first seen raised its grotesque head and voiced a hoarse, wailing scream; then it started down into the gully and headed for us at a rapid gallop, and behind it came its fellows, all now voicing that hideous cry.
"What are we going to do?" asked Duare. "Do you suppose they are dangerous?"
"I don't know whether they are dangerous our not," I replied, "but I wish that there were a tree handy."
"A forest does have its advantages," admitted Duare. "What are we going to do?"
"It would do no good to run; so we might as well stand here and have it out with them. We'll have some advantage as they come up the bank of the gully."
I fitted an arrow to my bow and Duare did likewise; then we stood waiting for them to come within range. They loped easily across the bottom of the gully and started the ascent. They didn't seem to be in much of a hurry; that is, they didn't seem to be extending themselves to their full speed, probably because we were not running away from them.
Perhaps this surprised them, for they presently slowed down to a walk and advanced warily. They had ceased their baying. The feathers along their backs rose stiffly erect as they slunk toward us.
Aiming carefully at the foremost, I loosed an arrow. It struck the beast full in the chest, and with a scream it stopped and tore at the feathered shaft protruding from its body. The others halted and surrounded it. They made a strange cackling sound.
The wounded creature staggered and sank to the ground, and instantly its fellows were upon it, tearing and rending. For a moment it fought fiercely to defend itself, but futilely.
As the others commenced to devour their fallen comrade, I motioned Duare to follow me, and we turned and ran toward the trees we could see about a mile away where the river turned back across our line of march. But we hadn't gone far before we heard again the infernal screaming that told us that the pack was on our trail.
This time they overtook us while we were at the bottom of a depression, and once again we made a stand. Instead of attacking us directly, the beasts slunk about just out of range, as though they knew the danger line beyond which they would be safe; then slowly they circled us until we were surrounded.
"If they charge now, all at once," said Duare, "we are sure to be finished."
"Perhaps if we succeed in killing a couple of them the others will stop to devour them, thus giving us another chance to get closer to the wood," I argued with an assumed optimism.
As we waited for the next move of our antagonists, we heard a loud shout in the direction from which we had come. Looking quickly up, I saw a man seated upon the back of a four-footed animal at the rim of the depression in which we stood.
* * * * *
At the sound of the human voice, the beasts surrounding us looked in the direction of the interruption and immediately commenced to cackle. The man on the beast rode slowly down toward us, and as he came to the ring of beasts they moved aside and let him pass through their savage ranks.
"It is fortunate for you that I came when I did," said the stranger, as the beast he rode stopped in front of us; "these kazars of mine are a ferocious lot." He was eying us intently, especially Duare. "Who are you, and where are you from?" he demanded.
"We are strangers, and we are lost," I replied. "I am from California ." I did not wish to tell him that we were from Vepaja until we knew more of him. If he was a Thorist he was an enemy; and the less he knew about us the better, especially that we were from the country of Mintep, the jong, than whom the Thorists have no more bitter enemy.
" California ," he repeated. "I never heard of such a country. Where is it?"
"In North America ," I replied, but he only shook his head. "And who are you," I asked, "and what country is this?"
"This is Noobol, but that of course you already know. This part of it is known as Morov. I am Skor, the jong of Morov. But you have not told me your names."
"This is Duare," I replied, "and I am Carson ." I did not give surname as they are seldom used on Venus.
"And where were you going?"
"We were trying to find our way to the sea."
"From where did you come?"
"Recently we were in Kapdor," I explained.
I saw his eyes narrow ominously. "So you are Thorists!" he snapped.
"No," I assured him, "we are not. We were prisoners of the Thorists." I hoped that my guess had been a good one and that he was not kindly disposed toward the Thorists. The slender thread upon which I hung my hopes was no more substantial than the frown that had clouded his brow at my admission that we had just come from Kapdor.
To my relief his expression changed. "I am glad that you are not Thorists; otherwise I would not help you. I have no use for the breed."