“Flesh, flesh!” they growled. “We are hungry. Give us flesh!” But Ga-va-go paid no attention to them, standing to one side beneath a tree, awaiting the prisoner that they were bringing toward him.
VI
An Exodus and a Battle
Orthis, who was becoming the almost constant companion of the chief, was standing beside the latter, while I was twenty-five or thirty yards away, and directly between Ga-va-go and the warriors who were approaching with the prisoner, who would of necessity have to pass close beside me. I remained where I was, therefore, in order to get a better look at it, which was rather difficult because it was almost entirely surrounded by No-vans. However as they came opposite me, there was a little break momentarily in the ranks, and I had my first opportunity, though brief, for a closer observation of the captive; and my comprehension was almost staggered by what my eyes revealed to me, for there before me, was as perfectly formed a human female as I had ever seen. By earthly standards, she appeared a girl of about eighteen, with hair of glossy blackness, that suggested more the raven’s wing than aught else and a skin of almost marble whiteness, slightly tinged with a creamy shade. Only in the color of her skin, did she differ from earthly women in appearance, except that she seemed far more beautiful than they. Such perfection of features seemed almost unbelievable. Had I seen her first posed motionless, I could have sworn that she was chiseled from marble, yet there was nothing cold about her appearance. She fairly radiated life and feeling. If my first impression had been startling, it was nothing to the effect that was produced when she turned her eyes full upon me. Her black brows were two thin, penciled arches, beneath which were dark wells of light, vying in blackness with her raven hair. On either cheek was just the faintest suggestion of a deeper cream, and to think that these hideous creatures saw in that form divine only flesh to eat! I shuddered at the thought and then my eyes met hers and I saw an expression of incredulity and surprise registered in those liquid orbs. She half-turned her head as she was dragged past, that she might have a further look at me, for doubtless she was as surprised to see a creature like me as I was to see her.
Involuntarily I started forward. Whether there was an appeal for succor in those eyes I do not know, but at least they aroused within me instantly, that natural instinct of a human male to protect the weak. And so it was that I was a little behind her and to her right, when she was halted before Ga-va-go.
The savage Va-gas’ chieftain eyed her coldly, while from all sides there arose cries of “Give us flesh! Give us flesh! We are hungry!” to which Ga-va-go paid not the slightest attention.
“From whence come you, U-ga?” he demanded.
Her head was high, and she eyed him with cold dignity as she replied, “From Laythe.”
The No-van raised his brows. “Ah,” he breathed, “from Laythe. The flesh of the women from Laythe is good,” and he licked his thin lips.
The girl narrowed her eyes, and tilted her chin a bit higher. “Rympth!” she ejaculated, disgustedly.
As rympth is the name of the four-legged snake of Va-nah, the inner lunar world, and considered the lowest and most disgusting of created things, she could not well have applied a more opprobrious epithet to the No-van chieftain, but if it had been her intent to affront him, his expression gave no indication that she had succeeded.
“Your name?” he asked.
“Nah-ee-lah,” she replied.
“Nah-ee-lah,” he repeated, “Ah, you are the daughter of Sagroth, Jemadar of Laythe.”
She nodded in indifferent affirmation, as though aught he might say was a matter of perfect indifference to her.
“What do you expect us to do with you?” asked Ga-va-go, a question which suggested a cat playing with a mouse before destroying it.
“What can I expect of the Va-gas, other than that they will kill me and eat me?” she replied.
A roar of savage assent arose from the creatures surrounding her. Ga-va-go flashed a quick look of anger and displeasure at his people.
“Do not be too sure of that,” he snapped. “This be little more than a meal for Ga-va-go alone. It would but whet the appetite of the tribe.”
“There are two more,” suggested a bold warrior, close beside me, pointing at me and at Orthis.
“Silence!” roared Ga-va-go. “Since when did you become chief of the No-vans?”
“We can starve without a chief,” muttered the warrior who had spoken, and from two or three about him arose grumblings of assent.
Swift, at that, Ga-va-go reared upon his hind feet, and in the same motion, drew and hurled his spear, the sharp point penetrating the breast of the malcontent, piercing his heart. As the creature fell, the warrior closest to him slit his throat, while another withdrew Ga-va-go’s spear from the corpse, and returned it to the chief.
“Divide the carcass among you,” commanded the chief, “and whosoever thinks that there is not enough, let him speak as that one spoke, and there shall be more flesh to eat.”
Thus did Ga-va-go, chief of the No-vans, hold the obedience of his savage tribesmen. There was no more muttering then, but I saw several cast hungry eyes at me—hungry, angry eyes that boded me no good.
In what seemed an incredibly short space of time, the carcass of the slain warrior had been divided and devoured, and once again we set out upon the march, in search of new fields to conquer, and fresh flesh to eat.
Now Ga-va-go sent scouts far in advance of the
