The groack had flippers rather than legs, but he could cover the ground at a fast clip for all of that. As we took to our heels in all directions, Ylana slipped in the wet sand and fell to her knees. This did not escape the cold gaze of the lake-dragon, and he swerved in his pursuit to bear down upon the jungle girl. I believe the original reaction of the groack was simply annoyance at finding someone poaching on his private supplies of food, but by this time, having caught a whiff of juicy manflesh, he abandoned his original intent of chasing away the fisherman, deciding to feast on fishermen rather than fish.
Tomar was the nearest of any of us to Ylana when she slipped and fell. Without a moment’s hesitation the boy turned back to help the girl. Snatching up the fishing-pole Lukor had flung aside in his haste, the boy ran directly between the girl and the lake-monster. As the groack bent to investigate the helpless maid, Tomar jumped in front of it with a loud yell and gave the brute a staggering buffet across the snout with the bamboo staff. I don’t imagine the blow caused the reptile much hurt, but it certainly made it angry.
Giving voice to a deafening hiss like a steam-whistle, the groack lunged after the boy. Tomar dodged nimbly to one side, scooped Ylana up in his strong young arms, and headed off in another direction.
Before the groack could lumber off at this new tangent, I had turned back to intercept it and gave it a good thwack with my own pole, which for some reason I still held. Then Lukor came dancing in from the other side. The spry little Ganatolian was the only one of us who still retained a real weapon, and in his case he had his trusty steel rapier with the basket-hilt. This blade he sank into the throat of the groack, who again screeched like a locomotive whistle, and went lumbering after Lukor, forgetting to go after Tomar or the girl, who had reached the edge of the jungle by now.
I gave it another whack on the head from my side, and as it swung its head back towards me, Lukor again sprang to the attack, sinking his point into the brute’s neck. Groggily, the reptile swung hissing to deal with this adversary, and I came in again to deal it a smashing blow alongside the skull. The rhythm of battle was established by now, and I had learned a valuable bit of information about the lake-dragon: its dim little nubbin of a brain was only large enough to contain one idea at a time, and thus between us, Lukor and I could probably keep the brute baffled and at bay for some time. Had it hurled itself in headlong and undeviating pursuit of any one of us, that unlucky person would doubtless have soon served the groack as its dinner. But it was unable to keep on one track, and acted in response to each individual stimulus in turn. Soon Ylana, nursing a twisted ankle, entered into this dance of death with her sling. One well-placed stone smashed out one of the groack’s gnashing fangs, and a second injured its left eye. In the meanwhile, Lukor kept pricking it in the neck, hoping with one of his strokes to penetrate the monster’s tough scaly hide deep enough to sever its spinal cord.
Things were taken out of our hands, however.
Thunnk! A black-feathered arrow suddenly materialized in the brow of the reptile, protruding from between its glaring eyes.
Thunkk! Thunkk!
Two more arrows flashed, burying themselves in the soft flesh of the unprotected throat, just beneath the jaws.
Black gore gushed between the gaping jaws as the giant reptile lurched groggily to one side, eyes glazing. The first arrow had pierced its tiny brain by a lucky shot, but it took it quite a time to realize the fact that it was already dead.
We sprang back from the floundering monster, staring around to discover the source of the mysterious arrows. Night had fallen during our battle with the lake-dragon, but several moons were aloft and by their many-colored light we saw a large party of men standing at the edges of the jungle.
The foremost of these was a hulking, unshaven lout, naked save for a tanned hide slung about his hips and a necklace of ivory fangs. He held, nocked and at the ready, a fourth arrow, ready to loose from his great sorath-wood bow.
The other warriors in his party sprang forward to dispatch the dying reptile with their flint-tipped spears.
But he stood facing us, a leering grin on his heavy features.
I did not care for his looks.
Neither did Ylana. In fact, when the girl spun about and saw our rescuer, she gasped aloud, and her taut face went pale. I gathered from this that she was acquainted with our rescuer; and, soon enough, this supposition became a fact.
“You!” she said faintly.
The big man grinned at her nastily.
“Ylana, are you acquainted with this warrior?” I asked, wishing I had something other than just a splintered fishing-pole wherewith to defend myself. She nodded wearily.
“He is Xangan, the man they would force me to mate with,” the girl said with despair eloquent in her tones.
“Seize the girl and kill the men,” ordered Xangan. The others sprang upon us with spear and club and stone ax.
Chapter 13
I Make an Enemy―and a Friend
There were twenty of them to the four of us, and considering that we were outnumbered five to one, it might have seemed the height of folly to have attempted to fight the jungle men. But it goes against my grain to yield supinely, even to a superior force. It is like giving up―and if I have learned one thing from a lifetime of adventure, it is: never give up―fight to the last!
Someday, I have no doubt, my luck will run out and the blade of an adversary or the claws of a jungle beast will take my life. Until that day comes, however, I will fight for life and freedom even against impossible odds.
So―when the first jungle man sprang at me with his stone-tipped spear―I batted the shaft aside and knocked him sprawling in the sand with a right to the jaw. The second, who attempted to brain me with his ax, I kicked in the pit of the stomach; he promptly lost interest in the conflict, sagged to his knees, and began losing his lunch all over the sand.
Lukor, to my left, had already run one warrior through the shoulder with his rapier, and was holding two others at bay with his flashing steel. Tomar had laid one jungle man unconscious, using the bamboo pole as a club, and was fighting off his companion, while the girl Ylana was employing her sling with devastating effect. Recalling that David had felled even the giant Goliath with just such a weapon, I caught a flying glimpse of the sling in action as she felled the third of the warriors who had sprung upon her. I don’t think we killed anyone, but there were more than a few broken teeth, pierced shoulders, and aching heads, before we were done. Xangan, I noticed, displayed the prudence of a born general by staying out of the fight entirely. He lurked on the edge of the jungle, dodging behind a tree whenever one of Ylana’s missiles came hurtling his way. His major contribution to the battle was that of urging his men on with loud shouts, while remaining safely out of harm’s way himself. I began to understand why the jungle maid despised him so.
It was soon over, of course; and, of course, we did not win it. There had hardly been a chance that the four of us, armed with bare fists and sticks and stones, could defeat twenty full-grown men armed with spears, clubs and stone axes. But when, at the end, they crushed us down by sheer weight of numbers, I had at least the grim comfort of having fought for my life.
Once we were safely trussed with leathern thongs, Xangan left his place of safety to strut about, puffing out his chest, and giving us dangerous, evil looks. From the way he postured boldly, glaring threateningly on four helpless, bound captives, you would have thought he had captured us all by himself. I could have laughed at him, except that I lay face down in the sand with someone kneeling in the small of my back, a position hardly conducive of risibility.