Part 2 (2/2)

Even so, we experienced many narrow escapes. Many of these monsters were larger than the prehistoric dinosaurs which once roamed the earth. They were difficult to kill, and it required the maximum voltage of our electric guns to bring them down.

Clothes torn, bodies bruised and scratched, we presented a sorry spectacle. Most of us felt the way we looked, but Cragley's unquenched determination spurred us on toward Deliphon. He was anxious to put a good distance between us and the abandoned cylinder. He feared the brigands, friends of the three who had been executed. Though Brady had not admitted the claim, the captain was certain a s.h.i.+pload of the outlaws were scheduled to show up for the platinum and their comrades.

At night, a camp was set up. Cragley argued against lighting a campfire, a.s.serting that it would prove a magnet to the wandering brigands he believed were in search of us. Quentin, employing smooth diplomacy, made it clear to his superior officer that a campfire promised to safeguard us from prowling beasts. Quentin cited the fact that it was a common sight for a night cruiser of Venus to look down upon fully a dozen or more campfires of the troglodytes.

Guards were posted during the night. It was well. The fires held the nocturnal creatures at bay. Whenever one of them did muster enough courage to charge, it was revealed in the firelight and shot down.

Several times I awoke to see a bellowing monster crash in death at the edge of our camp. Sleeping, we found was a fitful task. The first night proved the worst.

Next morning, we plodded on again through the thick, yellow jungle. The country became a bit hilly, yet none the less wooded. In the valleys between, we often found swamps. While approaching one of these swamps, we noticed a gray mist hanging over the stagnant pools. It appeared not unlike the steaming vapors we had previously encountered. One of the crew, plunging ahead of us to gauge the depth of the water and steer us clear of treacherous, clinging mud, became enveloped in the mist. Almost immediately his complexion turned black, and he fell strangling in throes of death. Another of the crew ran forward to drag back his comrade, but Captain Cragley warned him back.

”He's too far gone! There's nothing we can do for him!”

”What is it?”

”A poisonous swamp gas! There's enough poison in one breath to kill twenty men!”

Instinctively, we recoiled from the milky haze.

”How are we to cross?” asked Quentin.

”Put on the s.p.a.ce helmets!” ordered Cragley. ”That stuff can't hurt you unless you breathe it!”

To prove his words, Cragley donned his s.p.a.ce helmet and advanced into the mist. Looking back through the transparent facing of the helmet, he beckoned to us. Previously, many of the pa.s.sengers had rebelled against Cragley's persistence that they carry the added weight of the s.p.a.ce helmets. It had seemed utterly useless. Now, as they moved unharmed through the deadly fumes, they thanked his foresight.

We carried the dead body of the luckless man, who had saved us through his unfortunate discovery, to the top of the next hill where burial was made.

The second night, it came my turn to share guard duty with one of the crew while the others slept. The fires were plentifully fueled with dry branches and stalks. Fire material was piled in reserve. Grinstead, my companion watcher, went his rounds while I attended the fire, keeping the flames well supplied.

Protected by an embankment erected near a rocky ledge, the balance of our party slept. My eyes fell upon the little mound of boxes which contained the precious metal. Cragley and Quentin lay on each side of the platinum s.h.i.+pment. Not since we had commenced the march had they let it out of their sight or reach.

”Hantel!” It was Grinstead's voice. ”Come here a moment!”

Hastily I ran to his side. He was stooped over a mark on the ground far to one side of our camp just within circle of the firelight. Mutely he pointed to a footprint--the footprint of a six-toed man.

”Troglodytes!” I exclaimed.

Grinstead nodded. ”Fresh, too! Think we'd better awaken Cragley?” he asked. ”These cave men don't seem bad when they're peaceful, but if they get going--they're devils!”

I stared back into the alarmed eyes of Grinstead and pondered the matter. I was about to voice an opinion, leaving it up to Grinstead to do as he pleased, when a startled cry rang out from the direction of the sleepers.

Instantly, everything was confusion and uproar. Sleek, naked bodies prowling about our equipment flashed out of sight into the jungle. The whole camp came awake, exclamations and profanity mingling with the weird cries of the troglodytes. Recovering from my surprise, I fired a shot at one of the rapidly disappearing cave men, but the flickering firelight distorted my aim.

Then occurred the most amazing feature of the whole affair. A man, fully dressed, ran out of sight with the troglodytes, melting into the shadows of the surrounding jungle. Cragley ran up beside me and saw him too. He was out of sight before either of us had a chance to fire. At first, I had thought the man to be one of our party, but his flight with the cave men disproved the a.s.sumption.

”Wonder what the idea is?” spluttered Cragley.

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