Warrior of the Dawn

Howard Browne

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• Publié par: chewyung
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 44
• Langue: English

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Warrior of the Dawn, by Howard Carleton Browne This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Warrior of the Dawn Author: Howard Carleton Browne Release Date: May 20, 2010 [EBook #32462] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WARRIOR OF THE DAWN *** Produced by Greg Weeks, Roger L. Holda, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net WARRIOR OF THE DAWN by HOWARD BROWNE [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories December 1942 and January 1943. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Tharn stared in amazement at the city that lay before him CONTENTS CHAPTER I. In Quest of Vengeance CHAPTER II. Dylara CHAPTER III. The Strange City CHAPTER IV. Came Tharn CHAPTER V. Pursuit CHAPTER VI. Katon CHAPTER VII. Woman Against Woman CHAPTER VIII. Abduction CHAPTER IX. Torture CHAPTER X. The Hairy Men CHAPTER XI. From Jungle Depths CHAPTER XII. Enter--Pryak CHAPTER XIII. Death Stalks the Princess CHAPTER XIV. Forest Trails CHAPTER XV. Treachery CHAPTER XVI. Return to Sephar CHAPTER XVII .Reunion CHAPTER XVIII. Death in a Bowl CHAPTER XIX. A Lesson in Archery CHAPTER XX. Revolt! CHAPTER XXI. Conclusion List of Illustrations Tharn stared in amazement at the city that lay before him Tharn swung the nearest warrior bodily into the air Mog snatched Alurna into his arms and made off through the forest A rope hissed through the air and Tarlok reared high CHAPTER I In Quest of Vengeance It was late afternoon. Neela, the zebra, and his family of fifteen grazed quietly near the center of a level stretch of grassland. In the distance, and encircling the expanse of prairie, stood a solid wall of forest and close-knit jungle. For the past two hours of this long hot afternoon Neela had shown signs of increasing nervousness. Feeding a short distance from the balance of his charges, he lifted his head from time to time to stare intently across the wind-stirred grasses to the east. Twice he had started slowly in that direction, only to stop short, stamp and snort uneasily, then wheel about and retrace his steps. From the forest deeps came brutal killers, and Tharn, the Cro-Magnon, vowed that vengeance would be his.... The remainder of the herd cropped calmly at the long grasses, apparently heedless of their leader's unrest, tails slapping flanks clear of biting flies. Meanwhile, some two hundred yards to the eastward, three half-naked white hunters, belly-flat in the concealing growth, continued their cautious advance. Wise in the ways of wary grass-eaters were these three members of a CroMagnard tribe, living in a day some twenty thousand years before the founding of Rome.[A] With the wind against their faces, with their passage as soundless as only veteran hunters may make it, they knew the zebra had no cause for alarm beyond a vague suspicion born of instinct alone. And so the three men slipped forward, a long spear trailing in each right hand, their only guide the keen ears this primitive life had developed. One of the three, a stocky man with a square, strong face and heavily muscled body, deep-tanned, paused to adjust his grasp on the stone-tipped spear he carried. As he did so there was a quick stir in the tangled grasses near his hand and Sleeza, the snake, struck savagely at his fingers. With a startled, involuntary shout, the man jerked away, barely avoiding the deadly fangs. And then he snatched the flint knife from his loin-cloth and plunged it fiercely again and again into Sleeza's threshing body. When finally he stopped, the mottled coils were limp in death. He saw then that his companions were standing erect, staring to the west. From his sitting position he looked up at the others. "Neela—?" he began. "—has fled," finished one of the hunters. "He heard you quarreling with Sleeza. We cannot catch him, now." The third man grinned. "Next time, Barkoo, let Sleeza bite you. While you may die, at least our food will not run away!" Ignoring the grim attempt at humor, Barkoo scrambled to his feet and watched, in helpless rage, the bobbing heads and flying legs of Neela and his flock, now far away. Barkoo swore mightily. "And it's too late to hunt further," he growled. "As it is, darkness will come before we reach the caves of Tharn. To return emptyhanded besides—" One of his companions suddenly caught Barkoo by the arm. "Look!" he cried, pointing toward the west. A young man, clad only in an animal skin about his middle, had leaped from a clump of grasses less than twenty yards from the fleeing herd. In one hand was a long war-spear held aloft as he swooped toward them. Instantly the herd turned aside and with a fresh burst of speed sought to out-run this new danger. "Look at him run!" Barkoo shouted. With the speed of a charging lion the youth was covering the ground in mighty bounds, slanting rapidly up to the racing animals. A moment later and he had drawn abreast of a sleek young mare, her slim ears backlaid in terror. Still running at full speed, the young man drew back his arm and sent his spear flashing across the gap between him and the mare, catching her full in the exposed side. As though her legs had been jerked from under her, the creature turned a complete circle in mid-air before crashing to the ground, her scream of agony coming clearly to the three watching hunters. Barkoo, when the young man knelt beside the kill, shook his head in tightlipped tribute. "I might have known he would do something like this," he said, exasperated. "When I asked him to come with us he refused; the sun was too hot. Now he will laugh at us—taunt us as bad hunters." "Some day he will not come back from the hunt," predicted one of the men. "He takes too many chances. He goes out alone after Jalok, the panther, and Tarlok, the leopard, with only a knife and a rope. Why, just a sun ago, I heard him say Sadu, the lion, was to be next. Smart hunters leave Sadu alone!" Tharn, the son of Tharn, watched the three come slowly toward him. His unbelievably sharp eyes of gray caught Barkoo's attempt at an unimpressed expression, and his own lean handsome face broke in a wide smile, the small even white teeth contrasting vividly with his sun-baked skin. He wondered what had caused the zebra herd to bolt before the hunters could attempt their kill. He had caught sight of them an hour before from the high-flung branches of a tree, and had hidden in the grass near the probable route of the animals once Barkoo and his men had charged them. Barkoo, seeming to ignore the son of his chief, came up to the dead zebra and nudged it with an appraising toe. "Not much meat here," he said to Korgul. "A wise hunter would have picked a fatter one." Tharn's lips twitched with amusement. He knew Barkoo—knew he found fault only to hide an extravagant satisfaction that the chief's son had succeeded where older heads had failed; for Barkoo had schooled him in forest lore almost from the day Tharn had first walked. That had been a little more than twenty summers ago; today Tharn was more at home in the jungles and on the plains than any other member of his tribe. His confidence had grown with his knowledge until he knew nothing of fear and little of caution. He took impossible chances for the pure love of danger, flaunting his carelessness in the face of his former teacher, jeering at the other's gloomy prophecies of disaster. Tharn pursed his lips solemnly. "It is true," he admitted soberly, "that a wiser hunter would have made a better choice. That is, if he were not so clumsy that the meat would run away first. Then the wise hunter would not be able to kill even a little Neela. Wise old men cannot run fast." Barkoo glared at him. "It was Sleeza," he snapped, then reddened at being trapped into a defense. He wheeled on the grinning Korgul. "Get a strong branch," he said sharply.... With the dead weight of the kill swinging from the branch between Korgul and Torbat, the four Cro-Magnon hunters set out for the distant caves of their tribe. Soon they entered the mouth of a beaten elephant path leading into the depths of dense jungle to the west. It was nearly dark here beneath the over-spreading forest giants, the huge moss-covered boughs festooned with loops and whorls of heavy vines. The air was overladen with the heavy smell of rotting vegetation; the sounds of innumerable small life were constantly in the hunters' ears. Here in the humid jungle, the bodies of the men glistened with perspiration. By the time they had crossed the belt of woods to come into the open at the beginning of another prairie, Dyta, the sun, was close to the western horizon. Hazy in the far distance were three low hills, their common base buried among a sizable clump of trees. In those hills were the caves of the tribe, and at sight of them the four men quickened their steps. They were perhaps a third of the way across the open ground, when Tharn, in the lead, halted abruptly, his eyes on a section of the grasses some hundred yards ahead. Barkoo came up beside him. "What is it?" he asked tensely. Tharn shrugged. "I don't know—yet. The wind is wrong. But something is crawling toward us very slowly and with many pauses." Barkoo grunted. Tharn's uncanny instinct in locating and identifying unseen creatures annoyed him. It smacked too strongly of kinship with the wild beasts; it was not natural for a human to possess that sort of ability. "Come," said Tharn. With head erect, the long spear trailing in his right hand, he set out at a brisk pace, his companions close on his heels. They had gone half the way when a low moan came to the sharp e