Part 14
Her startled cry was echoed by another--a shrill scream, unutterably horrible--and a great bird flapped from the beach, splashing and beating its pinions across the water with a thundering noise.
Out across the waves it blundered, rising little by little from the water, and now, to my horror, I saw another monstrous bird swinging in the air above it, squealing as it turned on its vast wings. Before I could speak we touched the beach, and I half lifted her to the shore.
"Quick!" I repeated. "We must not wait."
Her eyes were dark with fear, but she rested a hand on my shoulder, and we crept up among the dune grasses and sank down by the point of sand where the rough shelter stood, surrounded by the iron-ringed piles.
She lay there, breathing fast and deep, dripping with spray. I had no power of speech left, but when I rose wearily to my knees and looked out upon the water my blood ran cold. Above the ocean, on the breast of the roaring wind, three enormous birds sailed, turning and wheeling among each other; and below, drifting with the gray stream of the Gulf loop, a colossal bulk lay half submerged--a gigantic lizard, floating belly upward.
Then Daisy crept kneeling to my side and touched me, trembling from head to foot.
"I know," I muttered. "I must run back for the rifle."
"And--and leave me?"
I took her by the hand, and we dragged ourselves through the wire grass to the open end of a boiler lying in the sand.
She crept in on her hands and knees, and called to me to follow.
"You are safe now," I cried. "I must go back for the rifle."
"The birds may--may attack you."
"If they do I can get into one of the other boilers," I said. "Daisy, you must not venture out until I come back. You won't, will you?"
"No-o," she whispered doubtfully.
"Then--good-by."
"Good-by," she answered, but her voice was very small and still.
"Good-by," I said again. I was kneeling at the mouth of the big iron tunnel; it was dark inside and I could not see her, but, before I was conscious of it, her arms were around my neck and we had kissed each other.
I don't remember how I went away. When I came to my proper senses I was swimming along the coast at full speed, and over my head wheeled one of the birds, screaming at every turn.
The intoxication of that innocent embrace, the close impress of her arms around my neck, gave me a strength and recklessness that neither fear nor fatigue could subdue. The bird above me did not even frighten me; I watched it over my shoulder, swimming strongly, with the tide now aiding me, now stemming my course; but I saw the shore passing quickly and my strength increased, and I shouted when I came in sight of the house, and scrambled up on the sand, dripping and excited. There was nobody in sight, and I gave a last glance up into the air where the bird wheeled, still screeching, and hastened into the house. Freda stared at me in amazement as I seized the rifle and shouted for the professor.
"He has just gone to town, with Captain McPeek in his wagon," stammered Freda.
"What!" I cried. "Does he know where his daughter is?"
"Miss Holroyd is asleep--not?" gasped Freda.
"Where's Frisby?" I cried impatiently.
"Yimmie?" quavered Freda.
"Yes, Jimmie; isn't there anybody here? Good heavens! where's that man in the shop?"
"He also iss gone," said Freda, shedding tears, "to buy papier-maché. Yimmie, he iss gone to post bills."
I waited to hear no more, but swung my rifle over my shoulder, and, hanging the cartridge belt across my chest, hurried out and up the beach. The bird was not in sight.
I had been running for perhaps a minute when, far up on the dunes, I saw a yellow dog rush madly through a clump of sweet bay, and at the same moment a bird soared past, rose, and hung hovering just above the thicket. Suddenly the bird swooped; there was a shriek and a yelp from the cur, but the bird gripped it in one claw and beat its wings upon the sand, striving to rise. Then I saw Frisby--paste, bucket, and brush raised--fall upon the bird, yelling lustily. The fierce creature relaxed its talons, and the dog rushed on, squeaking with terror. The bird turned on Frisby and sent him sprawling on his face, a sticky mass of paste and sand. But this did not end the struggle. The bird, croaking wildly, flew at the prostrate billposter, and the sand whirled into a pillar above its terrible wings. Scarcely knowing what I was about, I raised my rifle and fired twice. A horrid scream echoed each shot, and the bird rose heavily in a shower of sand; but two bullets were embedded in that mass of foul feathers, and I saw the wires and scarlet tape uncoiling on the sand at my feet. In an instant I seized them and passed the ends around a cedar tree, hooking the clasps tight. Then I cast one swift glance upward, where the bird wheeled screeching, anchored like a kite to the pallium wires; and I hurried on across the dunes, the shells cutting my feet, and the bushes tearing my wet swimming suit, until I dripped with blood from shoulder to ankle. Out in the ocean the carcass of the Thermosaurus floated, claws outspread, belly glistening in the gray light, and over him circled two birds. As I reached the shelter I knelt and fired into the mass of scales, and at my first shot a horrible thing occurred: the lizardlike head writhed, the slitted yellow eyes sliding open from the film that covered them. A shudder passed across the undulating body, the great scaled belly heaved, and one leg feebly clawed at the air.
The thing was still alive!
Crushing back the horror that almost paralyzed my hands, I planted shot after shot into the quivering reptile, while it writhed and clawed, striving to turn over and dive; and at each shot the black blood spurted in long, slim jets across the water. And now Daisy was at my side, pale and determined, swiftly clasping each tape-marked wire to the iron rings in the circle around us. Twice I filled the magazine from my belt, and twice I poured streams of steel-tipped bullets into the scaled mass, twisting and shuddering on the sea. Suddenly the birds steered toward us. I felt the wind from their vast wings. I saw the feathers erect, vibrating. I saw the spread claws outstretched, and I struck furiously at them, crying to Daisy to run into the iron shelter. Backing, swinging my clubbed rifle, I retreated, but I tripped across one of the taut pallium wires, and in an instant the hideous birds were on me, and the bone in my forearm snapped like a pipestem at a blow from their wings. Twice I struggled to my knees, blinded with blood, confused, almost fainting; then I fell again, rolling into the mouth of the iron boiler.
* * * * *
When I struggled back to consciousness Daisy knelt silently beside me, while Captain McPeek and Professor Holroyd bound up my shattered arm, talking excitedly. The pain made me faint and dizzy. I tried to speak and could not. At last they got me to my feet and into the wagon, and Daisy came, too, and crouched beside me, wrapped in oilskins to her eyes. Fatigue, lack of food, and excitement had combined with wounds and broken bones to extinguish the last atom of strength in my body; but my mind was clear enough to understand that the trouble was over and the Thermosaurus safe.
I heard McPeek say that one of the birds that I had anchored to a cedar tree had torn loose from the bullets and winged its way heavily out to sea. The professor answered: "Yes, the ekaf-bird; the others were ool-ylliks. I'd have given my right arm to have secured them." Then for a time I heard no more; but the jolting of the wagon over the dunes roused me to keenest pain, and I held out my right hand to Daisy. She clasped it in both of hers, and kissed it again and again.
* * * * *
There is little more to add, I think. Professor Bruce Stoddard has edited this story carefully. His own scientific pamphlet will be published soon, to be followed by Professor Holroyd's sixteen volumes. In a few days the stuffed and mounted Thermosaurus will be placed on free public exhibition in the arena of Madison Square Garden, the only building in the city large enough to contain the body of this immense winged reptile.
When my arm came out of splints, Daisy and I---- But really that has nothing to do with a detailed scientific description of the Thermosaurus, which, I think, I shall add as an appendix to the book. If you do not find it there it will be because Daisy and I have very little time to write about Thermosaurians.
But what I really want to tell you about is the extraordinary adventures of Captain McPeek and Frisby--how they produced a specimen of Samia Cynthia that dwarfed a hundred of Attacus Atlas, and how the American line steamer St. Louis fouled the thing with her screw.
The more I think of it the more determined I am to tell it to you. It will be difficult to prevent me. And that is not fiction either.
ENVOI.
_ENVOI._
_I._
_When shadows pass across the grass And April breezes stir the sedge, Along the brimming river's edge I trail my line for silver trout, And smoke, and dream of you, my lass, And wonder why we two fell out, And how the deuce it came about._
_II._
_When swallows sheer the meadow-mere And thickets thrill with thrushes' hymns, Along the mill-pond's reedy rims I trail my line for shining dace; But how can finny fishes cheer A fellow, if he find no grace In your sweet eyes and your dear face?_
_III._
_Let thrushes wing their way and sing Where cresses freshen pebbled nooks; By silent rills and singing brooks I pass my way alone, alas! With your dear name the woodlands ring-- Your name is murmured by the grass, By earth, by air, all-where I pass._
_IV._
_The painted bream may swim the stream-- I'll cast no line to-day, pardi! In vain the river-ripples gleam, In vain the thrushes' minstrelsy. Vain is the wind that whispers, "Lo! Thy fish are waiting--Angler, go!"_
_V._
_Will you forgive if I forgive? Life is too sad, I think, to live Alone, and dream and smoke and fish; I'll say "Forgive" first--if you wish?_
_VI._
_For at that word, the Sorcery Of Love shall change the earth and sky To Paradise, with cherubim Instead of birds on every limb._
_VII._
_Rivers shall sing our rhapsody; The vaulted forest, tree by tree, High hung with tapestry, shall glow With golden pillars all a-row._
_VIII._
_And down the gilded forest aisle Shy throngs of violets shall smile And kiss your feet from tree to tree While blue-bells droop in courtesy._
_IX._
_And if the sun incarnadine The clouds--green leaves shall be your screen; And if the clouds with jealousy Should weep--we'll beg of some kind tree A moment's hospitality._
_X._
_Good cheer is here, if you incline; Moss-hidden springs shall bubble wine While squirrels chuckle, rank on rank, And strawberries from every bank Shall blush to see how deep we drank._
_XI._
_Winds of the West shall cool our eyes While every woodland creature tries His voice a little, so that he May know his notes more perfectly When crickets start the symphony._
_XII._
_Through hazel glade and scented dell Where brooklets ring a tinkling bell, The forest orchestra shall swell, Until the sun-soaked grasses ring With crickets strumming string on string._
_XIII._
_Then, with your white hand daintily Scarce touching mine, we'll leave our tree And ramble slowly toward the West Where our high castle's flaming crest, Towering behind the setting sun, Flings out its banners, one by one, Signals of fire, that day is done._
_XIV._
_Deep in that palace we shall find How blind we are, how blind! how blind! And how he'll laugh, who holds the key To the great portal's mystery! And how his joyous laugh will ring When you and I shall bid him fling The gates ajar for you and me!_
_XV._
_Let shadows flee athwart the lea When dark December strips the hedge Along the icy river's edge; Yet, if you will forgive me, lass, The world shall bloom like spring to me, Snow turn to dew upon the grass And fagots blossom where you pass._
_XVI._
_Swallows shall sheer the frozen mere, Dead reeds along the mill-pond's rims Shall thrill with summer-thrushes' hymns, While summer breezes blow apace, If you will but forgive me, dear, And let me find a moment's grace, In your sweet eyes and your dear face._
_R. W. C._
THE END.
CORRECTIONS
page original text correction ix [missing from contents] THE KEY TO GRIEF 185 13 Yvette has gone to Bannelec. Yvette has gone to Bannalec. 23 It was crowded with Britons, It was crowded with Bretons, 29 doxens of similar red dozens of similar red 93 the great moth dated the great moth darted 103 among the beach trees. among the beech trees. 104 leaves of beach and oak leaves of beech and oak 135 Sacré garce! Sacrée garce! 167 O frère Jaques, O frère Jacques, 180 carved from red beach. carved from red beech. 181 their is much lace there is much lace 181 chiselled in red beach. chiselled in red beech.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Mystery of Choice, by Robert William Chambers