"You will, will you?" Stern cried, adding another kick to the one he
had just dealt to one of the creatures, who had ventured to look up at
their approach. "Lie down, ape!" And with the clangorous metal pail he
smote the ugly, brutish skull.
Beatrice gasped with fear; but the bluff made good. The creature
grovelled, and again the pair strode forward, masterfully. Masterfully
they had to go, or not at all. Masterfully, or die. For now their
all-in-all lay just in that grim, steel-hard sense of mastery.
Before the girl's eyes a sort of haze seemed forming. Her heart beat
thick and heavy. Stern's counting sounded very far away and strange;
she hardly recognized his voice. To her came wild, disjointed,
confused impressions--now a bony and distorted back, now a simian
head; again a group that crouched and cowered in its filthy squalor,
hideously.
Then all at once, there right before her she saw the little woodland
path that, slightly descending, led past a big oak she well knew, down
to the margin of the pool.
"Steady, girl, steady!" came the engineer's warning, tense as
piano-wire. "Almost there, now. What's _that?_"
For a brief instant he hesitated. The girl felt his arm grow even more
taut, she heard his breath catch. Then she, too, looked--and saw.
It was enough, that sight, to have smitten with sick horror the
bravest man who ever lived. For there, beside the smouldering embers
of the great feast-fire, littered with bones and indescribable refuse,
a creature was squatting on its hams--one of the Horde, indeed, yet
vastly different, tremendously more venomous, more dangerous of
aspect.
Stern knew at once that here, not prostrate nor yet crouching, was the
chief of the blue Horde.
He knew it by the superior size and strength of the Thing, by the
almost manlike cunning of the low, gorilla face, the gleam of
intelligence in the reddened eye, the crude wreath of maple-leaves
upon the head, the necklace of finger-bones strung around the neck.
But most of all, he knew it by a thing that shocked him more than the
sight of stark, outright cannibalism would have done. A simple thing,
yet how ominous! A thing that argued reason in this reversion from the
human; a thing that sent the shuddering chills along the engineer's
spine.
For the chief, the obeah-man of this vile drove, rising now from
beside the fire with a gibbering chatter and a look of bestial malice,
held between his fangs a twisted brown leaf.
Stern knew at a glance the leaf was the rudely cured product of some
degenerated tobacco-plant. He saw a glow of red at the tip of the
close-rolled tobacco. Vapor issued from the chief's slit-mouth.
"Good Lord--he's--_smoking!_" stammered the engineer. "And _that_
means--means an almost human brain. And--quick, Beatrice, the water! I
didn't expect this! Thought they were all alike. Back to the tower,
quick! Here, fill the pail--I'll keep him covered!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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