Chapter XIV: A Monster in Armor

Grandon protested that the jagged wound in his forehead was a mere scratch, but Vernia insisted on binding it for him, and did so with adroitness.

When she had finished, he rose dizzily and opened the door of the cab, whereupon a pungent odor assailed their nostrils, an odor similar to that produced by pouring sulphuric acid on copper.

He switched on the forward searchlight, which revealed the shattered front of their craft jammed against an enormous tree-trunk. The keel rested in a forked branch, which kept them from falling. A thin column of vapor curled upward from the shattered hull, emitting the stifling odor that had greeted them when he opened the door.

"I guess we are done with flying," said Grandon, eying the wreck askance. "At least, we will fly no more with this airship."

"Is it so badly broken?"

"The power mechanism is destroyed. An Olban once told me that a phial of acid was placed within each mechanism in such fashion that it would instantly destroy it if tampered with. Evidently the shock of our encounter with the tree-trunk broke the phial, for the fumes are unmistakably those of acid on metal. We are fortunate in the fact that our velocity was retarded by the smaller limbs of this tree before we struck the trunk, as we were traveling at a tremendous speed, and would have been crushed to pulp but for the timely interposition of those branches."

Grandon flashed the searchlight about them in an effort to ascertain where they were, but above, below and around them on every side they could see only branches and leaves. And such leaves! They were spatulate in shape, and a dark glossy green in color, varying between fifteen and twenty feet in length, while the stems were from eight to twelve inches thick. Each twig would have made a good sized fern tree, while the trunk against which their craft had jammed was a full fifty feet in thickness, even at the great height they knew themselves to be from the ground.

"Not much use to do any exploring before morning, I guess," said Grandon. "This is a giant of a tree. In what part of Reabon do these trees grow, and what do you call them?"

"There are no trees like this in Reabon," replied Vernia, "nor was I aware that there were such trees anywhere on Zarovia. Are you positive that we have been traveling due north?"

Grandon glanced at the compass. He noted with surprise that it pointed to his right.

"Strange," he said. "Just a moment before we struck, the needle pointed in the direction in which we were traveling. Now it points at right angles to the keel. There must be something wrong with it. I'm afraid we'll have to wait until the sun rises to get our bearings."

"We can at least be positive of two things. That we are not in Reabon, and that we are in some unexplored part of Zarovia."

At dawn, Grandon made his way down the tree trunk, clinging to the rough, curling bark with fingers and toes. It was a long, perilous descent, a matter of at least a thousand feet, and he guessed half an hour must have elapsed before he stood on the ground.

* * * * *

The forest giant under which he stood was more than a hundred feet in diameter at the base. All about him, as far as he could see, were many more like it. He noticed that all of the trees were connected by broad surface roots, and this fact, together with the total absence of spores or seeds, apprised him of the reason why these trees were, in all probability, confined to a single locality.

They must have begun and evolved on this part of the planet without developing other means of propagation than that of sending out surface roots to form new plants at some distance from the parent trees. Consequently their spread would be regulated, not only by the number of new trees they could produce in this manner, but by the character of the surrounding country as well, for any barrier such as a body of water or a stretch of barren, rocky land would effectually check their progress in any given direction.

Marking his trail by slashing trees or surface roots with his knife as he passed along, Grandon started his journey of exploration. He felt insignificant, a veritable pygmy, as he walked beneath those mighty spires of wood, treading matted, molding leaves that were nearly as long as the airship, and climbing over surface roots so thick that often he could not see over them. After he had traveled thus for more than half an hour he saw a number of tall, conical mounds ahead of him, and judged, from the regularity of their construction, that they housed human beings. As he approached more closely he observed that they were all dotted here and there with round holes about four feet in diameter.

He arrived within fifty feet of the nearest mound without noting any signs of animate life, and, concluding that it must be deserted, stepped boldly forward.

Then, without the slightest hint of warning, one of the inhabitants appeared. Evidently the thing had been watching Grandon from the inside, for it darted out suddenly and ran toward him on its six horny legs with incredible swiftness.

The creature was about the size of a small Shetland pony, with eyes as big as dinner plates set in a head more than two feet across and surmounted by two long, jointed antennæ, with jaws not only armed with sharp, cutting mandibles, but with a huge pair of forceps large enough to encircle two men. Its entire body was covered with glistening ivory-white armor. It came at him with its antennæ laid back and forceps outspread.

Instinctively, his hand sought his tork. He pressed the button again and again, but the bullets seemed to have no effect whatever, so he drew his sword and awaited the onslaught.

For all the effect his blade had on that glistening white armor he might as well have used a willow wand. The forceps encircled him, crushing the breath from his body, and he was dragged, kicking and struggling, into the dark hole.

* * * * *

Back in Reabon's capital, Prince Destho, cousin of Vernia and heir to the throne of Reabon, paced restlessly back and forth on the roof of the imperial palace. His sensuous mouth twitched, and he nervously twirled his thin mustache, as he gazed far out over the housetops toward the point where the north road met the horizon.

"Blood of my ancestors!" he muttered. "Will that sneaking hahoe of a Zueppa never send me word? Six days since they set out, and no message."

He paused suddenly, and strained his eyes toward a thin streak of dust which appeared far down the road.

"The car of the princess!" he gasped. "He has failed and divulged the plot." His face went suddenly pale at the thought. "But, no. It flies not the standard of Vernia. He has succeeded."

Destho hurried jubilantly down the stairway.

In the great courtyard, Zueppa stepped from the car and dramatically announced the news that was to shock an entire world. Vernia had disappeared, together with her four guards. It was thought they had been killed by wild beasts, or captured and carried off by the Traveks.

Instantly the courtyard was in an uproar. People poured out from the palace and crowded through the gates to learn the cause of the disturbance. Loud lamentations were heard as the news passed from mouth to mouth, for Vernia was popular with her subjects.

The disappearance of the Torrogina automatically placed the regency in the hands of Destho. He was not especially well liked, and saw an opportunity to raise himself in the popular esteem. Mounting to the topmost palace step and clapping his hands for silence, he announced that he would immediately raise an army of a hundred thousand men and personally conduct the search for their beautiful young ruler. This statement was greeted with shouts of approval, and, for the first time in his life, the degenerate prince was cheered by the populace.

With a knowing leer at Zueppa, the new ruler of Reabon turned and entered the palace.