AT JUNIA’S cry Jerry whirled around, then gave a low whistle of amazement. A monstrous thing was wading toward them across the narrow stream. As he gazed, it emerged upon the bank, a gigantic and hideous bird, fully forty feet in height.
Its long lean neck and scrawny body were leathery and bare of feathers. On its huge head was a waving crest of plumes. Its beak, which was four feet in length and two in width at the base, was hooked like that of an eagle. The short wings were covered with sharp spines in lieu of feathers. The long scaly legs were adaptable either for wading or swimming, and there were leathery webs between the toes, which were armed with immense, sickle-shaped talons.
“What is it?” Jerry asked.
“A koroo,” Junia told him. “The aquatic cousin of the koree, the great man-eating bird of the desert. Like its desert relative, it is fond of human flesh. But the koroo is much larger and considered far more formidable.”
“It’s certainly big enough,” he replied. “We would just make about one mouthful apiece for it. Do you think it has seen us?”
“I think not. Let us move away as slowly and quietly as possible, and seek a place of concealment.”
Slowly, cautiously, they crept up the stony bank. Jerry, meanwhile, kept a sharp watch on the monster, which raised its plumed head to its full height and cocked an eye in the direction of the fleeing couple. At sight of them its crest rose and its horny wings, which had been hanging at its sides, were suddenly elevated to a horizontal position. Then, with a peculiar booming cry, it charged swiftly toward them.
“It sees us!” said Jerry excitedly. “We may as well spring for it, now.”
He caught up Junia, flung her over his shoulder, and started up the hillside with huge leaps that almost matched the giant strides of the bird.
Jerry ran as he had never run before. But the fifteen-foot legs of the monster koroo shortened the distance between them with alarming rapidity. Soon the Earthman could hear its stertorous breathing behind him. Then he noticed a dark hole in the hillside, just in front of him. Like a hunted animal seeking cover, he plunged into it.
He took his baridium torch from his belt and unhooded it, flashing it about to assure himself that there was no formidable creature lurking there. He was in a roughly circular cave, about thirty feet in diameter, with a twelve-foot ceiling. Swiftly he ran to the opposite side of the cave and faced about.
The koroo was now peering into the hole, its head cocked to one side. Seeing its intended prey standing in the back of the cave, it lunged forward. But its long neck would only negotiate about half of the distance, and the opening was not large enough to admit its shoulders.
Temporarily baffled, the monster backed out and began scratching and tearing at the opening with its immense talons. After it had enlarged the hole considerably, it again lunged forward. This time its shoulders passed through.
Jerry took a javelin from the sheaf he carried and, running up close to the hideous head, plunged it into one huge, glaring eye.
With a squawk of pain the koroo backed out of the cave, shaking its head and clawing at the shaft of the weapon in an effort to dislodge it. The barbs held, but the shaft was snapped off like matchwood. Blinded in one eye, the man-eater again hurled itself into the hole. Once more Jerry ran forward, and this time threw a javelin with all his strength into the other eye.
Again the giant bird backed out, shaking its head and clawing at the shaft. Then it lost its balance and rolled end over end down the steep hillside, loosening a small avalanche of stones and gravel. About halfway down it brought up against a huge boulder with a crash, and lay still.
Drawing his sword, Jerry half slid, half ran, down the hillside to where the koroo lay. He pricked it with the point, but it did not respond. Sheathing the larger weapon, he took out his dagger, and, after laying back a section of the leathery skin on the breast, cut out a large slab of meat. With this he returned to where Junia waited in the cave mouth.
“At last we have food,” he said, depositing the meat on a flat boulder.
“I have never heard of anyone eating koroo,” she said.
“Nor I,” replied Jerry, “but I’m hungry enough to eat crushed rock.”
Swiftly he gathered a pile of dry brush and dead leaves, and powdering a small quantity of the latter, lighted them by focusing the rays of the setting sun on them with his crystal disk. Soon he had an efficient cooking fire crackling, and when it had burned down to a bed of glowing coals, grilled several slices of the meat.
Politely he passed the first slice to Junia. She attempted to bite off a piece, but was unable to so much as dent it with her teeth. Jerry tried another with similar results. It tasted like a slab of sole leather flavored with fish oil, and was neither palatable nor chewable.
“There seems to be an excellent reason why you never heard of anyone eating koroo,” he told Junia.
“Apparently,” she replied. “Yet the flesh-flies seem to enjoy it.”
She nodded in the direction of the carcass, and Jerry, following her gaze, saw that virtually nothing remained but the picked skeleton. A half dozen huge insects still walked about it, as if looking for stray morsels.
“They are welcome to my share,” he said. “After all, I believe I should prefer to tackle crushed rock. But if we may not eat, we can at least sleep. The sun is low, and we had best make our preparations for the night.”
When Jerry awoke in the morning his first thought was of Junia. How little and helpless she looked, sleeping there wrapped in her blue curtain. A fiercely protective feeling surged up in him as he turned to face this strange and hostile world.
Cautiously he removed a stone or two of the barrier he had erected the night before, and peered out. But there were no enemies in sight, so he soon had the opening cleared out.
The sound of his labors awakened Junia, and she quickly joined him. Together they went down to the stream to drink and wash.
“Shall we hunt upstream or down?” Jerry inquired. “I think we would do well to keep near the water.”
“Down,” Junia voted. “We would be going in the general direction of Raliad.”
Their hopes rose as they rounded a bend in the little stream, for it emptied into a large river. In the middle of the river was a very sizable island, and Jerry scanned the shore attentively.
“Junia, does that look to you like a boat?”
“I believe it is.”
“That means human beings, and food. I’ll swim across and find out.”
“Don’t leave me behind!” she pleaded; she followed him into the water, leaving the curtain robe behind.
They struck out firmly for the island, breasting the slight current, and landed near the object they had spied from the other shore. It proved indeed to be a boat, wide, flat and wooden. In it lay two wooden paddles, a net, and a multipronged fishing spear. And there was the remnant of a narrow path leading up from the shore, where the ground was so packed by footsteps that the weeds which had grown over it were stunted.
“Maybe the people who left this boat here also left an empty dwelling we can use,” said Jerry. “Shall we investigate?”
“By all means,” Junia replied. “It will be bitterly cold after sunset, and neither of us is equipped for it. If there is a dwelling of some sort, we can at least build a fire and keep warm.”
They were suddenly startled by a terrific roar, followed by a crashing in the underbrush. Then a huge black dalf burst into view, and charged at them with bared fangs.
Stepping in front of Junia, Jerry whipped out his sword and awaited the beast. But when it came quite near him, it stopped suddenly, sniffing in his direction and growling softly. Then he noticed that it had a tarnished, gold-plated collar around its neck, on which was the inscription:
Neem, the dalf of Thaine
Evidently, thought Jerry, this beast was half minded to be friendly.
“Quiet, Neem,” he said.
The great beast pricked up its ears and ceased growling.
“Come here, Neem,” Jerry went on, lowering his sword and holding out his hand.
The dalf came forward slowly, evidently still suspicious. Then Junia spoke to him, at the same time stepping from behind Jerry. As soon as he saw her, Neem gave violent manifestations of an exuberance of joy. Soon she was rumpling his head, while Neem stood, leaning lightly against her, with his eyes half-closed, the picture of contentment.
“I must resemble his former mistress,” said Junia. Then she went on musingly: “I wonder who this Thaine could have been.”
“Perhaps we can solve the riddle if we find the house of Thaine,” said Jerry. “The sun is due to set in a very short time. Let us start searching.”
He led the way up the path, with Junia and the dalf following closely behind. But presently, when he emerged in an open glade in the center of the wood, the trail disappeared entirely. And a careful look around disclosed no sign of a house.