But Fosh-bal-soj was of no mind to die passively. He clawed and struck
at Bradley while with his great wings he attempted to shield himself
from the merciless rain of blows, at the same time searching for a hold
upon his antagonist's throat. Presently he succeeded in tripping the
Englishman, and together the two fell heavily to the floor, Bradley
underneath, and at the same instant the Wieroo fastened his long talons
about the other's windpipe.
Fosh-bal-soj was possessed of enormous strength and he was fighting for
his life. The Englishman soon realized that the battle was going
against him. Already his lungs were pounding painfully for air as he
reached for his pistol. It was with difficulty that he drew it from
its holster, and even then, with death staring him in the face, he
thought of his precious ammunition. "Can't waste it," he thought; and
slipping his fingers to the barrel he raised the weapon and struck
Fosh-bal-soj a terrific blow between the eyes. Instantly the clawlike
fingers released their hold, and the creature sank limply to the floor
beside Bradley, who lay for several minutes gasping painfully in an
effort to regain his breath.
When he was able, he rose, and leaned close over the Wieroo, lying
silent and motionless, his wings drooping limply and his great, round
eyes staring blankly toward the ceiling. A brief examination convinced
Bradley that the thing was dead, and with the conviction came an
overwhelming sense of the dangers which must now confront him; but how
was he to escape?
His first thought was to find some means for concealing the evidence of
his deed and then to make a bold effort to escape. Stepping to the
second door he pushed it gently open and peered in upon what seemed to
be a store room. In it was a litter of cloth such as the Wieroos'
robes were fashioned from, a number of chests painted blue and white,
with white hieroglyphics painted in bold strokes upon the blue and blue
hieroglyphics upon the white. In one corner was a pile of human skulls
reaching almost to the ceiling and in another a stack of dried Wieroo
wings. The chamber was as irregularly shaped as the other and had but
a single window and a second door at the further end, but was without
the exit through the roof and, most important of all, there was no
creature of any sort in it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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