“My brother, Doran, is here, too,” Kandar told me. “He is standing beside my father.”
“Ask your father if it’s safe to land,” I said.
He did so and received a negative answer. “Yat says you may come into the village, but not the strangers,” Jantor shouted up to us.
“But I can’t come in unless we are permitted to land the anotar,” said Kandar. “Tell Yat that these people are friendly. One is Artol, a former member of your Guard; the others are Carson of Venus and his mate, Duare of Vepaja. They rescued me from Gangor. Persuade Yat to let them land.”
We saw Jantor turn then and speak to a large savage, but the latter kept shaking his head; then Jantor called to us again as we circled low above the village. “Yat says that strangers are not allowed in Timal—only I and the members of my family—and he doesn’t like the looks of that ship that sails in the air. He says that it is not natural and that the people who ride in it cannot be natural—they might bring misfortune to his people. I can understand how he feels, for this is the first time that I ever saw human beings flying. Are you sure this Carson of Venus and his mate are human?”
“They are just as human as you or I,” said Kandar. “Tell Yat that he really ought to let the ship land so that he can examine it. No one in Amtor ever saw such a thing before.”
Well, eventually Yat gave permission for us to land; and I came down close to the village and taxied up to the end of the single street. I know that those ignorant savages must have been frightened as the anotar rolled toward them, but not one of them turned a hair or moved away a step. I stopped a few yards from Jantor and Yat, and immediately we were surrounded by bucks with couched spears. For a moment it looked serious. The Timals are a ferocious-looking people. Their faces are hideously tattooed in many colors, and their horns only add to the ferocity of their appearance.
Yat strode boldly to the side of the ship and looked up at Duare and me. Jantor and Doran accompanied him. Kandar introduced us, and the old Timal chief examined us most carefully. Finally he turned to Jantor. “He is a man, even as you,” he said, indicating me. “Do you wish us to be friends with him and his woman?”
“It would please me,” said Jantor; “because they are the friends of my son.”
Yat looked up at me. “Do you wish to be friends of the Timals and come among us in peace?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Then you may descend from that strange creature,” he said. “You may remain here as long as you wish, the friends of Yat and his people. I have spoken, and my people have heard.”
We climbed down, glad to stretch our legs again. The Timals gathered around, but at a respectful distance, and inspected us and the ship. They had much better manners than civilized people of the great cities of Earth, who, under like circumstances, would probably have torn our ship to pieces for souvenirs and stripped our clothes from us.
“They have received you in friendship,” said Jantor, “and now you will find them kind and hospitable. They are a proud people who hold their honor most sacred. As long as you merit their friendship, they will be loyal to you; should you not merit it, they will destroy you.”
“We shall try to merit it,” I assured him.
XX
Old Yat was tremendously interested in the anotar. He walked all around it, occasionally poking it with a finger. “It is not alive,” he remarked to Jantor, “yet it flies like a bird.”
“Would you like to get in it and see how I control it?” I asked.
For reply he crawled into the forward cockpit. I got in beside him and explained the controls to him. He asked several questions, and they were all intelligent questions. I could see that, despite horns and tail, Yat was a high type of reasoning human being.
“Would you like to go up in it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then tell your people to move away and not to come out on this level ground until I have taken off.”
He did as I asked, and I came about and taxied down the valley onto the little plain. The wind was blowing right down the canyon; so my take-off was uphill, and we were going pretty fast practically up to the village before I left the ground. We skimmed over the heads of the watching Timals, and then I banked and climbed. I glanced at Yat. He showed no sign of nervousness; but just sat there as unconcerned as a frozen goldfish, looking all around at the scenery and peeking over the side of the cockpit at the panorama of landscape below.
“How do you like it?” I asked.
“Fine,” he said.
“Tell me when you want to go back to your village.”
“Go there,” he said, and pointed.
I flew through a pass in the mountains as he had directed. Ahead and far below stretched a broad valley.
“Go there,” he said, and pointed again. “Now, lower,” he directed a moment later; and presently I saw a village beneath us. “Go low above that village.”
I flew low above a thatched village. Women and children screamed and ran into their huts. A few warriors stood their ground and hurled spears at us. Yat leaned far over the side as I circled back at his request. This time I heard a warrior cry: “It is Yat, the Timal!”
Yat looked as happy as a gopher with a carrot. “Go home now,” he directed. “Those were the enemies of my people,” he said, after a while. “Now they will know what a great man is Yat, the Timal.”
All the Timals of Yat’s village were waiting when we returned. “I was sure glad to see you coming back,” said Kandar. “These fellows were getting nervous. Some of them thought that you had stolen Yat.”
Warriors gathered around their chief. “I have seen a new world,” said Yat. “Like a bird I flew over the village of the Valley People. They saw me and knew me. Now they will know what great people the Timals are.”
“You flew over the village of the Valley People!” exclaimed a warrior. “Why, that is two long marches away.”
“I flew very fast,” said Yat.
“I should like to fly in this bird ship,” said a sub-chief, and then a dozen others voiced the same wish.
“No,” said Yat; “that is for chiefs only.”
He had now done something that no one else in his world had ever done. It set him apart from other men. It made him even a greater chieftain than he had been before.
We learned to like these Timals very much. They were very courteous to Duare, the women especially going out of their way to be kind to her. One would never have expected it in such primitive savages.
We rested there for a few days; and then I flew Jantor, Kandar, and Doran back to Japal to reconnoiter. As the anotar does not carry more than four comfortably, I left Duare and Artol behind. I knew that she would be safe with the Timals; and, anyway, I expected to be back before dark.
We circled low over Japal, causing quite a commotion in the streets. Jantor hoped that in some way he might get in touch with some of his friends and learn what was going on in the city. There was always the chance of a counterrevolution that would place him back on the throne; but either his friends were all dead or imprisoned or afraid to try to communicate with him, for he never saw one whom he could trust.
As we prepared to leave and return to Timal, I circled far out over the lake, gaining considerable altitude; and from this vantage point Jantor discovered a fleet of ships far down the lake.
“If it’s not asking too much,” he said to me, “I’d like to fly down there and see who that is.”
I headed for the fleet, and presently we were circling above it—fifty ships of war packed with fighting men. Most of them were biremes, and there were several penteconters, open galleys with decks fore and aft and propelled by fifty oars as well as sails. Some of the biremes had a hundred oars on each side and carried several hundred warriors as well. All had their sails set, and were taking advantage of a gentle breeze.