“Master!” said Zangamon, arising and coming toward him.
“Well, what is it now?”
“You are wounded, O Kromno! Your arm still bleeds. Let us bind it.”
“It is nothing—only a scratch!”
But Zangamon insisted.
“Master,” said he, “in this we cannot obey you. See? While you and the woman talked I fetched water, as you commanded. Now I must wash your hurts and bind them.”
Allan had to accede. Together the two Merucaans examined the injuries with words of commiseration. The “scratch” turned out to be three severe lacerations of the forearm. The gorilla’s teeth had missed the radial artery only by a fluke of fortune.
They bathed away the clotted blood and bandaged the arm not unskilfully. Allan pressed the hand of Zangamon, then that of his companion.
“No thanks of mine can tell you what I feel!” he exclaimed straight from the heart. “Only for you to guide me, to drive the man-brute, to strike it down when it was just about to throttle me—only for you, both she and I—”
He could not finish. The words choked him. He felt, as never before, a sudden, warm, human touch of kinship with the Merucaans—a strong, nascent affection. Till now they had been savages to him—inferiors.
Now he perceived their inner worth—the strong and manly stamina of soul and body; and through him thrilled a love for these strange men, his saviors and the girl’s.
Once more he seemed to see a vision of the future—a world peopled by the descendants of this hardy and resourceful folk, “without disease of flesh or brain, shapely and fair, the married harmony of form and function”—and, as with a gesture, he dismissed them wondering, not understanding in the least why he should thank them, he knew the world already had begun once more to come back under the hand, under the strong control of man.
“Sleep now, master,” Bremilu entreated. “We who are new to this strange world will sit outside the door upon the rock and watch those fires so far above that you call stars. And the big sun-fire that is coming, too—we would see that!”
“No, not yet!” Stern commanded. “You cannot bear it for a while. Stay within and roll the rock against the door and sleep. The great fire might injure you or even kill you, as it did the—”
He checked himself just in time, for “the patriarch” had all but escaped him. Zangamon, with sudden understanding, once more advanced toward him as he sat there by the girl.
“O master! You mean the ancient man? He is dead?” Stern nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “He was so old and weak, the touch of the fire in the sky—he could not bear it. But his death was happy, for at least he felt its warmth upon his brow!”
The Merucaans kept silence for a moment, then Stern heard them murmuring together, and a vague uneasiness crept over him.
He strove, however, to put it away; though in his heart the shame of the lie he had been forced to tell would not be quieted.
The colonists, however, made no further speech, but presently rolled the rock in front of the cave entrance, then wrapped themselves in their long cloaks and lay down by the fire.
Soon, like the healthy savages they were, they were fast asleep, with vigorous snorings.
Thus the night passed, while Stern kept watch over the girl; and another day crept slowly up the sky, and in the cave now rested four human beings—the vanguard of the coming nation,
CHAPTER XVII. THE DISTANT MENACE
STERN never knew when he, too, drifted off to sleep; but he awoke to find Zangamon sitting beside him, with his cloak drawn over his head, while Beatrice and Bremilu still slept.
“The light, master—it is like knives to me! Like spears to my eyes, master! I cannot bear it!” whispered the Merucaan, pointing to where, around the interstices of the doorway, bright white gleams were streaming in.
Allan considered with perplexity.
“It hurts, you say?”
“Yes, Kromno! Once or twice I have tried to watch that strange fire, but I cannot. The pain is very great!”
“Humph!” thought Allan. “This may be a more serious factor than I’ve reckoned on. These people are albinos. White hair and pink eyes—not a particle of protecting pigmentation. For thirty or so generations they’ve been subjected to nothing but torchlight. The actinic rays of the sun are infinitely more penetrating than anything they’ve ever known. It may take months, years even, to accustom them to sunlight!”
And disquieting situations presented themselves to his mind. True, if it were necessary, the Folk could work and take the air only at night.
They could fish, hunt and till the soil by star and moonlight, and sleep by day; but this was by no means the veritable reestablishment of a real, human civilization
Then an idea struck him.
“The very thing!” cried he. “Once I can put it into effect, it will solve the question. And the second generation, at the outside, will be normal. They’ll ‘throw back’ to remote ancestry under changed conditions. In time, even if only a long time, all will yet be well!”
But now immediate labors and difficult problems were pressing. The future would have to look out for itself.
Stern felt positive that to let the Merucaans out of the cave would not only blind them, but might also kill them outright as well.
Their unprotected skins would inevitably burn to a blister under the rays of the sun, and they would in all probability die. So said he:
“Listen, Zangamon! You must stay here till the dark comes again, which will not be very long. The woman and I will prepare another cave for your dwelling. When it is dark you can fish in the flowing water beneath. In the mean time we will bring you your accustomed food and your nets from the flying boat.
“You must be patient. In a short time all things shall be as you wish, and you shall see the wonderful and beautiful world up into which I have brought you!”
The man nodded, yet Stern clearly saw his face betrayed uneasiness, distrust and pain. In all fairness, the Merucaans’ first experience of the upper world had been enough to shake the faith even of a philosopher—how much more so that of simple and untaught barbarians!
Terror, violence, slaughter and insecurity—these all had greeted the colonists; and now, in addition, they found the patriarch was dead. Above all, they were virtually prisoners in this gloomy cavern of the rock.
But Stern was very wise. He by no means thought of commiserating or excusing. His only course was to make light of trials and hardships, and, if need were, to command.
He arose, carefully stopped up the chinks around the rock at the doorway, and bade Zangamon replenish the fire with dry sticks. Then, Bremilu awakening, they prepared food.
Now Beatrice, too, awoke. Allan took her in his arms, unmindful of the newcomers, and there were words of love and joy, and self-reproaches, and a new faith plighted between them once again.
She was unharmed, except for a few bruises and scratches. Her nerves had already recovered something of their usual strength. But at sight of Allan’s bandaged arni she turned pale, and not even his assurances could comfort her.
They talked of the terrible adventure.
“It was all my fault, Allan—every bit my fault!” she exclaimed remorsefully. “It all came from my not obeying orders. You see, I was expecting you last night. Instead of staying in the cave, with the door barricaded, I lingered on the terrace, after having piled the signal-fire high with wood.
“I sat down and watched the sky, and listened to the river down below, and thought of you. I must have dozed a little, for all of a sudden I came wide-awake, shuddering with a terror I couldn’t understand. Then I heard something moving down the path—something that grunted and snuffled savagely.