The Lost World MEGAPACK®. Lin Carter

more than a day and a night to persuade Uruk to launch an attack in force upon the mainland.

      The ostensible purpose of the assault was to recapture Darya, princess of Thandar. Uruk required little urging to decide to send his men to war. As Xask pointed out, with Darya in their power, they could successfully demand of Tharn of Thandar one hundred beautiful young virgins from the Stone Age tribe.

      And Uruk was weary of his women, and hungered for fresh, lithe young limbs and sweet young breasts to handle with his cruel paws.

      But the real purpose of the invasion was to capture, if possible, both of the strangers from the Upper World.

      Fumio had stammeringly described the small hand-weapon wherewith Eric Carstairs had driven the monster plesiosaurus beneath the waves. It had a voice like thunder, he maintained. And One-Eye, recovering from a monstrous hangover the next morn, had confirmed everything Fumio had told Xask about the thunder-weapon.

      Even if the device was only half as powerful as the two savages claimed, it would suffice to serve the purposes of Xask.

      His enemies at the court of Zar had soured the Queen’s heart against him, driving him forth into the wilderness to perish. Therefrom slave raiders from Kor had dragged him into a life of captivity from which his cleverness and wit had lifted him to a high position as Uruk’s crony and vizier.

      But for a cultured man of civilized ways, even a high position among hulking savages is a mean and squalid life. And Xask desired revenge upon his enemies, and longed to return to Zar in might and power. And the thunder-weapon of the strangers could well be the tool he needed to lift him to his former height.

      In his imagination, Xask pictured a hundred Drugar warriors, armed with copies of the thunder-weapon, hurling its lightnings against the towering walls of Zar.

      And Xask smiled.

      And the next morning fifty dugouts loaded with Drugar warriors, including Xask and Fumio, One-Eye and Uruk himself, launched forth upon the mist-clad waters of the Sogar-Jad, bound for the continent.

      The Underground World had never known so mighty a war as Xask had conceived of in his cool and wily brain. Nor had Uruk been overly difficult to persuade into the venture.

      Xask had drawn a tempting picture for his Omad…a delectable vision of an invincible army of Drugar, shod with thunder, their arms filled with lightning-bolts, slaughtering in their thousands the warriors of Thandar, carrying off the loot, the plunder, the cattle, and the women…the young and tender and frightened and very desirable women…even the little girls.

      Uruk had slobbered, grinning lustfully.

      And Fumio was pleased, as well. For his price was small, merely the gomad Darya, and as far as Xask or Uruk cared, what was one young girl among so many thousands?

      CHAPTER 16

      WINGS OF TERROR

      And now let me return to the adventures of Jorn the Hunter. No sooner had Fumio fled into the jungle, than the young warrior and Darya of Thandar turned to see if the would-be rapist’s cowardly blow had slain Professor Potter, or whether the old man was merely unconscious.

      Fortunately, the skinny savant had only been stunned by Fumio’s blow. With cold water drawn from the little pool wherein she had bathed, the jungle girl found it not difficult to resuscitate the man from the Upper World. True, he was a bit dizzy and wobbly in the knees, but these ills were minor and would soon pass.

      He did, however, have a lump the size of a hen’s egg on the back of his bald pate and it throbbed painfully, giving him the very grandfather of all headaches.

      “The cold water will reduce the swelling,” Darya assured him. “You will soon be feeling better.”

      “I certainly hope so, young woman!” complained the Professor grumpily. “For I am much too old for such adventures…who did you say it was who knocked me down?”

      The girl explained what had happened, describing Fumio so that the Professor could easily recall him.

      The old man nodded his head, wincing as he did so.

      “Yes, yes, I remember the fellow well…superb physique, but rather too handsome, I should say…

      and I did not care for his manner, either: he was either blustering or whining all the time, as I recall.…

      Well, young fellow, it seems as if you came to our rescue in the veritable nick of time!” This last remark, of course, was made to Jorn.

      The Hunter nodded grimly. “I am glad that I came in time to assist Darya,” he said simply.

      “Is there any sign of Eric?” the Professor inquired, feeling a little better by now. “And what of those savages? Are they pursuing us?”

      Jorn explained what he had seen from his treetop perch, and how the Drugars had forced me into the dugout canoes, launching forth upon the Sogar-Jad for their homeland, Kor. The Professor was downcast.

      “The poor boy! Well, what shall we do now—is there any hope of effecting his rescue, do you suppose?”

      Jorn shook his head. “We have no canoes, and no other way of crossing the waters of the sea to the island of Ganadol,” he said somberly. “And even if it were possible for us to do so, I do not believe the three of us could do anything to help Eric Carstairs. Rather than being able to rescue him from his captivity, we should all probably be captured ourselves.”

      The Professor could not refute the simple logic of that statement, although he yearned to rescue his friend. “Well, then,” he sighed, massaging his aching head, “at least we can escort this young lady back to the land of her people. It is what Eric would have wished us to do.…”

      * * * *

      Jorn was forced to admit, some hours later, that he was quite thoroughly lost. He confessed this to his companions shamefacedly.

      But Darya was quick to sympathize with the young Hunter.

      “In this dense jungle where one tree looks very much like another,” smiled the girl comfortingly, “it is terribly easy to become confused about one’s direction. Perhaps we should rest here, find something to eat, and seize this opportunity to sleep—for we are all quite weary after our exertions.”

      Her companions agreed that her suggestion was a sensible one. While Jorn began to build a fire, using, the Professor noticed, flints to set the wood ablaze, Darya decided to go hunting with the light javelin they had taken from the villainous Fumio.

      “If my princess will wait until I am finished with this task, I shall be pleased to try my skill while both of you rest,” the Hunter offered.

      Darya shook her head determinedly.

      “I feel restless, despite my weariness,” she said. “Continue building your fire, Jorn, while I endeavor to make my kill. I shall not be gone long.”

      With that, the girl strode into the dim aisles of the jungle and was soon lost to view.

      “Heh! I wonder, Jorn, if we should have permitted the young woman to go off by herself,” murmured the Professor a trifle nervously. “The beasts of the jungle are immense and ferocious and Fumio’s spear seems to me a frail implement.”

      Jorn smiled.

      “Like most of the women of Thandar,” he said quietly, “the princess is an accomplished huntress and knows well how to avoid the larger and more dangerous predators; have no fear.”

      “Eh? Well, perhaps so…still and all, I shall breathe a lot easier once the child has returned to camp, safe and unharmed!”

      “That will not be long,” said Jorn confidently. “The jungle teems with game, and I’ll wager even at this moment Darya has made her kill.”

      * * * *

      Nor was Jorn’s confidence in Darya’s skills as a huntress misplaced. For it had been child’s play for the