The Captain and his Lieutenant discussed the future as Robert Jones
laboriously ascended the climbing shaft to the walkingway upon the
ship's back, a hundred and fifty feet above his galley. He did not
come entirely out of the climbing shaft onto the walkingway, but
merely looked about the blue heaven and when his gaze had completed
the circle, he hesitated a moment and then looked straight up, where,
directly overhead, hung the eternal noonday sun of Pellucidar.
Robert Jones blinked his eyes and retreated into the shaft, closing the
hatch after him. Muttering to himself, he descended carefully to the
galley, crossed it, took the clock off its hook and, walking to an open
port, threw it overboard.
To the occupants of the longboat dancing over the blue waves, without
means of determining either time or distance, the constant expectation
of nearing their journey's end lessened the monotony as did the oft
recurring attacks of the frightful denizens of this Mesozoic sea. To
the highly civilized American the utter timelessness of Pellucidarian
existence brought a more marked nervous reaction than to the others.
To a lesser degree Tarzan felt it, while the Waziri were only slightly
conscious of the anomalous conditions. Upon the Pellucidarians,
accustomed to no other state, it had no effect whatever. It was
apparent when Tarzan and Jason discussed the matter with them that they
had practically no conception of the meaning of time.
But time did elapse, leagues of ocean passed beneath them and
conditions changed.
As they moved along the coast their course changed; though without
instruments or heavenly bodies to guide them they were not aware of it.
For a while they had moved northeast and then, for a long distance, to
the east, where the coast curved gradually until they were running due
north.
Instinct told the Korsars that they had come about three quarters
of the distance from the island where they had outfitted to their
destination. A land breeze was blowing stiffly and they were tacking
briskly up the coast at a good clip. Lajo was standing erect in the bow
apparently sniffing the air, as might a hunting dog searching out a
scent spoor. Presently he turned to Tarzan.
"We had better put in to the coast," he said. "We are in for a stiff
blow." But it was too late, the wind and the sea mounted to such
proportions that finally they had to abandon the attempt and turn and
flee before the storm. There was no rain nor lightning, for there were
no clouds--just a terrific wind that rose to hurricane violence and
stupendous seas that threatened momentarily to engulf them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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