If the moon showed her the way more
clearly and thus saved her from an occasional fall, he would,
too, show her more clearly to the strange denizens of the towers,
and that, of course, must not be. Could she have waited until the
following night conditions would have been better, since Cluros
would not appear in the heavens at all and so, during Thuria's
absence, utter darkness would reign; but the pangs of thirst and
the gnawing of hunger could be endured no longer with food and
drink both in sight, and so she had decided to risk discovery
rather than suffer longer.
Safely past the nearest tower, she moved as rapidly as she felt
consistent with safety, choosing her way wherever possible so
that she might take advantage of the shadows of the trees that
grew at intervals and at the same time discover those which bore
fruit. In this latter she met with almost immediate success, for
the very third tree beneath which she halted was heavy with ripe
fruit. Never, thought Tara of Helium, had aught so delicious
impinged upon her palate, and yet it was naught else than the
almost tasteless usa, which is considered to be palatable only
after having been cooked and highly spiced. It grows easily with
little irrigation and the trees bear abundantly. The fruit, which
ranks high in food value, is one of the staple foods of the less
well-to-do, and because of its cheapness and nutritive value
forms one of the principal rations of both armies and navies upon
Barsoom, a use which has won for it a Martian sobriquet which,
freely translated into English, would be, The Fighting Potato.
The girl was wise enough to eat but sparingly, but she filled her
pocket-pouch with the fruit before she continued upon her way.
Two towers she passed before she came at last to the stream, and
here again was she temperate, drinking but little and that very
slowly, contenting herself with rinsing her mouth frequently and
bathing her face, her hands, and her feet; and even though the
night was cold, as Martian nights are, the sensation of
refreshment more than compensated for the physical discomfort of
the low temperature. Replacing her sandals she sought among the
growing track near the stream for whatever edible berries or
tubers might be planted there, and found a couple of varieties
that could be eaten raw. With these she replaced some of the usa
in her pocket-pouch, not only to insure a variety but because she
found them more palatable. Occasionally she returned to the
stream to drink, but each time moderately. Always were her eyes
and ears alert for the first signs of danger, but she had neither
seen nor heard aught to disturb her. And presently the time
approached when she felt she must return to her flier lest she be
caught in the revealing light of low swinging Thuria. She dreaded
leaving the water for she knew that she must become very thirsty
before she could hope to come again to the stream. If she only
had some little receptacle in which to carry water, even a small
amount would tide her over until the following night; but she had
nothing and so she must content herself as best she could with
the juices of the fruit and tubers she had gathered.
After a last drink at the stream, the longest and deepest she had
allowed herself, she rose to retrace her steps toward the hills;
but even as she did so she became suddenly tense with
apprehension. What was that? She could have sworn that she saw
something move in the shadows beneath a tree not far away. For a
long minute the girl did not move—she scarce breathed. Her eyes
remained fixed upon the dense shadows below the tree, her ears
strained through the silence of the night. A low moaning came
down from the hills where her flier was hidden. She knew it
well—the weird note of the hunting banth. And the great
carnivore lay directly in her path. But he was not so close as
this other thing, hiding there in the shadows just a little way
off. What was it? It was the strain of uncertainty that weighed
heaviest upon her. Had she known the nature of the creature
lurking there half its menace would have vanished. She cast
quickly about her in search of some haven of refuge should the
thing prove dangerous.
Again arose the moaning from the hills, but this time closer.
Almost immediately it was answered from the opposite side of the
valley, behind her, and then from the distance to the right of
her, and twice upon her left. Her eyes had found a tree, quite
near. Slowly, and without taking her eyes from the shadows of
that other tree, she moved toward the overhanging branches that
might afford her sanctuary in the event of need, and at her first
move a low growl rose from the spot she had been watching and she
heard the sudden moving of a big body. Simultaneously the
creature shot into the moonlight in full charge upon her, its
tail erect, its tiny ears laid flat, its great mouth with its
multiple rows of sharp and powerful fangs already yawning for its
prey, its ten legs carrying it forward in great leaps, and now
from the beast's throat issued the frightful roar with which it
seeks to paralyze its prey. It was a banth—the great, maned lion
of Barsoom. Tara of Helium saw it coming and leaped for the tree
toward which she had been moving, and the banth realized her
intention and redoubled his speed. As his hideous roar awakened
the echoes in the hills, so too it awakened echoes in the valley;
but these echoes came from the living throats of others of his
kind, until it seemed to the girl that Fate had thrown her into
the midst of a countless multitude of these savage beasts.
Almost incredibly swift is the speed of a charging banth, and
fortunate it was that the girl had not been caught farther in the
open. As it was, her margin of safety was next to negligible, for
as she swung nimbly to the lower branches the creature in pursuit
of her crashed among the foliage almost upon her as it sprang
upward to seize her.
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