The Greatest Works of Otis Adelbert Kline - 18 Books in One Edition. Otis Adelbert Kline

frightened cave-ape needed no urging, but hurried off at once, the others after him, while I brought up the rear at a more leisurely pace. Peal after peal of thunder sounded, the lightning flashed almost incessantly, and rain came down in torrents before I reached the cave mouth.

      Entering, I beheld my erstwhile fearless fighters huddled together like frightened frellas and shivering as if with the ague.

      “Every one fears Zog,” explained a young ape.

      “Your Rogo does not fear him,” I said, “and you should not. Come and help me pile stones in the doorway lest a silticum or some other monster get in tonight.”

      “We are afraid to go to the doorway,” quavered Borg. ‘Zog will slay us with his magic fire.”

      “Enough of this. Come over here and help me, every one of you, or I will slay you all with my magic.”

      The tragic fear which was in their eyes was pitiful to behold, but they were not long in choosing between what they believed would be sure death from my magic and possible death from the bolts of the deity they called “Zog.” The doorway was soon so completely blocked that no night-roaming beast could enter.

      Night having come on by this time, the only light in the cave was from the frequent flashes of lightning.

      For a long time I stood at the entrance. Each lightning flash showed branches flying through the air, fern-trees blown over, and wild things, large and small, scurrying for shelter.

      I was awakened in the morning by a loud clatter and the sound of gruff voices. Sitting up with a yawn, I stretched my cramped limbs as I watched Borg and several other cave-apes dragging the barricade away from the cave entrance. Gone was the unreasoning fear that had gripped them the night before.

      I rose and followed them outside. The storm had vanished, and other than the upper cloud envelope which is ever present in the Zarovian sky, the heavens were clear. But the still-dripping fern forest plainly showed the ravages of the tempest. The ground was littered with leaves and branches; trees were bent over, snapped off and uprooted, and many streams of muddy water trickled riverward.

      Crossing the gulch which separated our cave from the highest eminence, I climbed to the point where I had been standing the night before when the storm struck, to find some spore pods. As I gazed out over the Ropok, now rolling as gently as it had before the storm, my munching terminated in a sudden exclamation of surprise.

      Lying on their sides far out in the surf with the waves rolling over them, and apparently deserted, I saw the battered hulls of two of Prince Gadrimel’s ships. And anchored on the lee side of the promontory on which I stood, were the other three ships, their spars and rigging in most sorry case. The flagship, I observed, was the one anchored nearest the point of the headland, indicating that Loralie had escaped death, for which I was deeply thankful. From where I stood I could see the crews of the three ships busy repairing the damages which the storm had wrought.

      Crouching in order that I might not be observed, I made my way back into the gulch, where most of my fierce retainers were finishing their morning meal.

      “The food-men have returned,” I said. “Keep out of sight so they will not know that we are here. And do not go far away, as I will probably need you to fight very soon.”

      “We will remain nearby, Rogo,” said Borg. “We are all very hungry for the flesh of food-men.”

      I returned to my lookout on the rock and tried to formulate some plan of attack. Presently I saw two scarlet-clad figures appear on the deck of the flagship. The smaller of the two was constantly attended by two armed warriors. Gadrimel had evidently found it expedient to keep the princess under constant surveillance.

      But a plan did not suggest itself to me until I saw several boats lowered and a party of officers, headed by Gadrimel, put off for shore. Dashing back to the gulch where my cave-apes were grouped, I said, “Some of the food-men are coming ashore. We will divide into two parties of equal size, one of which will be under the leadership of Borg. The other I will lead.

      “Bores party will go down near the shore at the spot toward which they are coming. With his warriors he will climb into the trees, taking care lest the food-men see any of them, for they carry magical clubs which can kill at a great distance. As soon as the food-men enter the forest, Borg and his warriors will drop down on them from the trees and surprise them. They can thus be slain before they have a chance to use their magic clubs. Do you understand, Borg?”

      “I understand, Rogo,” replied the old cave-ape. “The food-men will not see us until we fall upon and slay them.”

      Calling the other cave-apes to follow me, I hurried to the other side of the promontory and descended its steep seaward side where we were hidden from view of the ships. Then, cutting the string I had with me into appropriate lengths, I tore a number of fronds from a wide-leafed variety of bush-fern, and proceeded to bind these to the heads of my subjects, spreading them in such a manner that at a distance they would effectually conceal the heads and shoulders of the great brutes. Disguising myself in the same manner, I led my savage followers to the very point of the promontory and into the water.

      “You will all keep close together in the water,” I said, “and follow me without noise. There are many trees and branches floating down the river this morning, and if we swim carefully and silently we will not be noticed.”

      Peering around the point, I saw that Gadrimel and his hunters had landed and were starting into the forest. Then there came to me faintly the yells of startled men and the roars of fighting cave-apes, interspersed with the popping of torks and clash of weapons, and I knew that all eyes on board the ship would be directed toward the scene of battle.

      “Now,” I said, and plunging into the water, swam around the point and straight for the flagship. Just behind me, in such close formation that we must have appeared like a single, tangled mass of floating branches, came my camouflaged apes.

      The flagship was not more than a thousand feet from the point, but before we could reach it I saw more boats put off from all the ships and make swiftly for the scene of combat on shore.

      We came up under the prow of the ship just as the sounds of conflict announced the arrival of the small boats at the beach where the battle was taking place.

      Silently I seized the taut anchor chain and went up, hand over hand. Just as silently, my ape warriors followed. On reaching the top, I peered cautiously through the railing. Loralie and her two guards were standing on the starboard side watching the battle on shore. There were three men aloft, apparently there to repair the rigging, but they, too, had their eyes trained shoreward.

      Without a sound, I climbed over the railing, and with sword in one hand and dagger in the other, advanced toward the two men. Simultaneously, I jabbed the point of my dagger in the back of one, and the point of my sword in the other.

      “One false move,” I said, “and you die. Raise your hands above your heads and keep your faces shoreward.”

      They complied with alacrity. With a little scream of fear, Loralie turned to see what had happened.

      “Zinlo!” she exclaimed. “I knew you would come!”

      “Take their weapons, my princess.”

      She quickly removed their belts from which depended their torks and scarbos.

      Three of the apes had meanwhile scrambled aloft after the men in the rigging, and the others were searching the ship.

      “Bring to me alive those who do not resist,” I shouted. “You may slay the others.”

      My words had the desired effect on Gadrimel’s men, for although those in the rigging all carried short scarbos, none offered to fight. Other than these three and the two I had disarmed, the apes found only the cook and his helper.

      When the prisoners had all been rounded up, I addressed them.

      “All of you who are willing to take orders from me will give the royal salute. The others