Chapter I: Hunting Terrible Game

The boys did not talk much as they went along. It would have been dangerous, for the enemy just beyond had good ears; and then, it was not the way of the people of that day to talk for the mere sake of talking.

They stopped just short of the last ridge and looked back. It was a matter of prudence--a prudence taught them by grim experience. One of the two was only fifteen, and the other two years younger, yet both were old in the dreadful kind of knowledge that a hazard like this called for. It was such a hazard as would have excused doubt and hesitation in the bravest man, to say nothing of a boy.

But that will have to be explained later. Just now they were making sure that they were safe thus far, and that there was no danger of a surprise. The enemy beyond the ridge had come up from a valley to the left, and who could say that others of his kind might not come trailing along after, but keep on around the hill, instead of turning off into the little valley? In that case they would be caught in a trap, with one enemy before, and one or more in the rear.

But as they looked they saw nothing of any new danger. The countryside seemed quiet, and only what they had already observed and accounted for came within their range. There were other ridges right and left, both climbing higher till they cut out the full bigness of foot-hills, and just above the surface of the lake were the bald, yellow spots of low chalk cliffs. In other directions these fell away till they ran themselves out in the marsh levels, or straggled in little grave-mound shapes back to the two great horns of the far-reaching woods.

The boys turned back again after this one look; the older said a single low word to the other, and began to crawl on hands and knees toward the low crest of the ridge. It was not far, but at the rate he went it must take some minutes to reach it; meanwhile the other boy lay down almost flat, and with Indian-like patience waited. He laid three long, flint-headed darts close by his hand, and made sure that a small stone axe was safe in his leather girdle. He was stripped either for fight or flight, for his only clothing--unless one reckons the belt--was a leather breech-clout. The leather both of this and the belt was of a peculiar sort, and looked more like alligator skin than ordinary leather. He was a savage, then, but yet not an Indian. What he was and what the other boy was (they were dressed and armed alike) will very soon appear.

While the first boy was worming along toward the top of the ridge the other looked back again and along the sides of the slope. He still saw nothing that troubled him, and nothing even that was out of the commonplace--the commonplace to him. It will be worth while to stop a moment and see whether it will seem wholly commonplace to us. To begin with, let us see what region this is. Now we start with something to think of, for this is the eastern part of the present State of Colorado. Yet the lake below, after escaping from the arms of the two little headlands, widens and reaches out till it is lost everywhere on the sky-line! Nor could an eagle, if he should rise to the region of thin air, raise the land boundary!

But there are other things to see, and no farther away than the shores of this unaccountable lake. There are the trees and other vegetation. It certainly seems as if there must be some mistake here. For down there, rising from the midst of strange, rank ferns and huge, unfamiliar canes are what can be none other than palm trees. They are not tall, but robust in trunk, and they seem at home, so to speak, in the company of the rank, tropical growth about them. To be sure, the trees that we should naturally look for are not wholly wanting, for there are what resemble modern yews, and some fine-leaved trees that at least look like willows, and on the slopes of the ridges, higher up, are low oaks and beeches. Yet mingled with these again are alien forms of cedars, and some strange cycads that seem to be in part palms, and in part a kind of gigantic fern.

But still again, to look along the banks of the lake. It is only late spring, and early in the morning, and yet the half-clouded sun has a hot sting, and a little, steamy mist rises from the dank borders of the lake. The faint puff of a variant breeze, too, from that direction, brings with it a mingling of tropic scents, spicy and yet rank, and a whiff from the overcrowded and dying vegetable growths. In a moment some of the tall reeds by the northern shore wave, and then bend sharply down, and out of the heart of them walks a living creature. It walks, and somewhat like a man, for it comes along on two legs, and with a kind of waddling duck-gait. Its great hind legs slap along, and its little fore ones hang down limp. It stands ten feet high to the top of its coffin-shaped, earless head, and its thick, tapering tail drags after it ten feet more. It certainly looks somewhat like a kangaroo, and yet repulsively unlike one. For another thing, it has a comparatively smooth skin, though broken into lizard-like scales, and it is gray on the upper part of its body and white the length of its belly.

After a struggle with the absurdity of saying so, one would call it a monstrous lizard, but with the perversion of an upright carriage, and with legs like a kangaroo’s.

And this seeming flight of the imagination would go not a whit beyond the truth, for this strange and puzzling monster, amid strange and puzzling surroundings, _is_ a lizard.

But as the waiting boy is neither disturbed nor amazed at such a sight as this it is evident that it is not strange to him. Are there still other sights that he is looking dull-eyed at, but that, as we make them out, set us to staring, and almost to gasping? What is the monster lizard himself at this moment looking at?

The cove, toward which the monster is heading, is shoal at this point (the great lake itself is not relatively deep), but there is a drop, or hole, near the immediate shore, and the water is deeper there, and it is toward this spot that the creature is looking.

No wonder! The almost smooth surface of the water ripples, and then breaks, and up into sight flashes a dusky, longish object that in an instant takes shape as a huge snake. Its head is rather large for what so far appears to be its body, though thin at the jaws. Up it still rises, straight into the air, until--how long, in horror’s name, can the creature be? The head is more than twenty feet clear of the water now, and unless the monster is standing on its tail, which would be out of the question--but what is this? The length of body has run itself out, indeed, but in the name of all that is strange, how? It has ended in another body that is as thick as a small whale’s, but with two seal-like flippers that at this moment show a little out of the water, and gently beat up and down.

Perhaps ten seconds of this suspense, the lizard watching the--call it the fish-snake,--and the newcomer seemingly looking that way, as if questioning him, and then something new happens. The long, upraised neck curves gracefully down, the jaws fly open, and the head dives under the water. It comes up instantly, and in the jaws is a shining and flapping fish. With a little beating of flippers, the great body turns and heads lakewards, and the neck droops till it is almost level with the water. More paddling, and the creature heads down the channel, and goes steadily out to the broad water. There it slowly sinks and vanishes.

The giant lizard at this starts along again and keeps on till he splashes down into the water. His business is commonplace, after all, for when he is a little way out he stoops and drinks. This done, he turns and waddles off among his reeds and ferns.

There are other strange sights down there, only it would take a nearer view to bring them out; meanwhile, the creeping boy on the hill-slope is on the point of uncovering a sight more amazing still. It will be better worth while to follow him.

He shuffled along relatively fast, though he did not rise from hands and knees, and was not long in reaching the final little crest of earth that crowned the ridge. Then, ever so cautiously, he raised his head and peered over.

There was a sharp slope down to a little ravine, and beyond that a rise to another ridge. In fact, the surface of the land just here was like the monstrous furrows of some giant’s ploughed field. Across the ravine, on the opposite rise, was the thing that the boy was looking at.

It may well be called a thing, for it was like nothing that any living human being of our day ever saw, and more like some hobgoblin of a dream. It stretched out longer than an ordinary dwelling house, and rose, at its curving rump, to the height of a New England farm-shed. Its bulk in the middle was greater than any elephant’s, and its huge tail at its beginning was bigger than a sugar barrel.

The head was no longer than a horse’s, but the mouth was split up much farther, and as it opened it showed great, tiger-like teeth. The upper lip--if it may be called a lip--bent down and ended in a kind of bill. There was a horn a foot long on the snout. The long, snake-like neck ended in a little rising hill at the fore shoulders, and from there the back rose still higher to the hind-quarters; then the monstrous tail ran down another slope to its pointed end. All along this curving back, and to the very end of the tail, was a little saw-tooth ridge. Hair does not belong to reptiles, and this one had none. Instead, the whole body was covered with close scales, greenish on the upper part, and almost white below. The relatively short fore legs ended in frog-like hands, with short claws on the fingers, and a claw a foot long on the thumb. The huge and long hind legs tapered down, and finished in great bird-like feet. Each toe of the foot ended in a claw as long as a sickle. These claws cleared the ground a little, as the monster stood on all fours, and so preserved the sharpness of the terrible points.

This, then, was the strange something that the two plucky boys were spying on, and yet held in such dread. It is easier to understand the dread now.

The creature was just at this moment turned a little away from the boy. Its head was down, and it stood lumpishly, and with its low-set eyes half shut.

Backward crawled the boy and did not stop till he was well below the crest of the ridge. Then he stood up and ran swiftly down the slope.

The other boy saw him coming, and rose. Like the cool little hunter that he was he said nothing, but merely looked his question.

“He’s going,” with a grin, was the answer. “He has eaten every bit of the carcass.”

This brought a responsive grin.

“He isn’t down yet?”

“No, but drooping. I didn’t see anything of the others.”

The questioner picked up his darts. In bending down to get them he seemed a trifle awkward. It was because one foot was a little deformed, and the leg a bit shorter than the other.

“It is a first-rate beginning, Hop-foot,” went on the older boy. “Even if the others don’t get the poisoned stuff now they probably will another time. It is good news to carry home.”

“Yes, it’s good news,” assented Hop-foot.

They started down the hill, and Hop-foot went on:

“It is ten moons now since the last death-beasts came up from the farther lake shore. It looks as if they were dying out. Don’t you think they are, Sure-dart?”

“Yes, they must be,” answered Sure-dart, “and in fact, the old hunters are beginning to say so. It will be fine when they and all the others of the kind die out. There will be things enough left then to worry us.”

“But they are mainly water creatures. For instance, fish-snake, and spike-tooth, and the destroyers. Fish-snake, too, doesn’t bother us very much.”

“There are some others, and you forget the birds. What about the terror-bird? I had rather fight some of the beasts than him. Then there is the big beast-bird. If he comes along in the night, and you are out by yourself--I’ve got one scar that matches his teeth.”

“Yes, he’s bad,” assented Hop-foot. “So, too, are some of the others. But what I meant was, we don’t have so much trouble from these creatures as our tribe used to. Look at the safety-holes all around the lake, and up here in the hills. My father says that when he was a boy people were using them all of the time.”

“Oh, that is so, and your main idea is right. But, Hop-foot, there are things worse than the beasts and birds. Those don’t know much. Human creatures are worse. Look at the way things are just now. If the Fishers are really coming, and if our people don’t beat them, then maybe we shall wish we were fighting the beasts. We shall all stand a good chance to be roasted and eaten.”

Hop-foot soberly nodded.

“Yes, that is so. But perhaps the story of the war-party is not true; if it is--” his black eyes lighted--“my father will know what to do.”

Sure-dart nodded in turn.

“Big-axe is a great fighter,” he said respectfully, “and my father put him higher in that than any other headman we ever had. Besides, he is cunning, and a good trap-layer. But you know,” he went on more soberly, “the Fishers fight well, too, and they far outnumber us.”

“Well, Sure-dart,” said Hop-foot, undisturbedly, “I am not going to worry. I think we shall have good news from our party, let what will be the matter. When Big-axe led the Rock-people against the Cane-dwellers, you know what happened. We did not have to hide in the safety-holes, as if the death-beasts were coming.”

He smiled proudly, showing a splendid set of teeth. The jaws that held them were long and strong, and went well with his muscular if rather thin arms, and the play of other muscles over his broad back and thick shoulders. He was hardly so tall as the average American boy of the present day, and he was a bit full at the waist for our idea of power and beauty, but nevertheless, he was a wonderful boy. His strength was great for his age, and his wind and general endurance were far beyond what we expect to find even in our most robust boys. His face was by no means stupid, either, for all that the forehead was low, and the skull retreating. His eyes were bright, and his general expression alert, and there was a kind of manly composure in his look. His hair was jet-black and coarse, and flowed down over his shoulders; and his skin, except for a deep coat of tan, was yellowish white. More than any other people that we know of he resembled a Laplander. He looked brighter and more energetic, however. One other thing in his appearance deserves mention. His body was wonderfully hairy. The black hair grew like a bed of moss on his chest, and ran in ridges down his arms and legs, and out upon his hands and feet.

Sure-dart in most ways resembled him. He had the same kind of complexion, and the same sort of powerful, hairy body, with relatively thin arms and a bit of portliness, and with a deep chest. He was a little less stocky, but a bit taller, and was rather quicker and more supple in his movements. His face, too, was a little more comely,--judged by our standards,--and seemed to show a somewhat keener intelligence.

His weapons were the same as Hop-foot’s--a small, stone-headed axe, and three flint-headed darts. The darts were about two feet long each, and were adjusted for flight by some bits of split reeds placed vertically at what we should call the feather-end. The points of these darts showed some discoloration, and it was to be noticed that both of the boys handled the little missiles carefully. In fact, they had kept them, till within a few minutes, in a kind of case, or quiver, this made of the lizard skin (looking like alligator skin) already mentioned.

“No,” said Sure-dart, in response to Hop-foot’s remark, “it is certain that we didn’t have to go into safety-holes when the Cane-dwellers made their raid. We beat them, and those that we didn’t kill we made slaves of. It ended the Cane-dwellers. I only hope----”

He stopped, and his look changed. He happened to be walking on a little crest of ledge, and from there could see over a small spur of rocks, and down into a winding valley. This valley led back to the furrowed ridges whence the dying horned monster had come.

“Run!” he shouted, jumping off the ledge and whipping his darts into their sheath; “the other death-beasts are coming!” He wheeled to the left, and started at a run along the hill-slope.

Hop-foot lost a little color, but he, too, stopped long enough to slip the poisoned darts into their sheath. No wise man or boy would plunge along such footing with these death-dealers exposed; and on the other hand, this experienced hunter knew better than to throw them away. He understood what it would mean to be shut up in a little hole in the ground with no help nigh, and these raging beasts outside. They would quiet down after a while, but would not leave, and unless some weapon availed there would be left but a choice of deaths.

One might have thought that a family of monstrous kangaroos, with the weight of elephants, was coming! The huge legs lifted the massive bodies in great jumps, so that the dreadful heads were twenty feet in the air. Stones as big as a man were knocked out of the way, and bushes were crushed like grass. As if they had caught the scent or the sight of their prey, the creatures put out their vast strength, and by the sheer force of it hurled their great bulk along, and over the side-hill level to the very shadow of the outcropping rock that the boys were passing.

Sure-dart was ahead, but in spite of the danger he was not running his best, for he lagged a little for Hop-foot. The lame boy was simply doing marvels in the way of speed. He hopped, skipped, and jumped along, and gave Sure-dart little margin for waiting.

Now, one of the three monsters--the largest--was within the length of its body from Hop-foot. Sure-dart looked once more backward, groaned, and made one swift dart into the shadowed mouth of a safety-hole.

The crashing monster seemed to jet its hot breath after him, and with its thunder fairly made the ground shake.

Hop-foot must be among the things that were.