Best Fantasy Stories

Chapter 11 THE SWAMP MONSTER

Chapter 11

THE SWAMP MONSTERA few joms after, I was informed by the Kohen that there was to

be another sacred hunt. At first I felt inclined to refuse, but on

learning that Almah was going, I resolved to go also; for Almah,

though generally mistress of her actions, had nevertheless certain

duties to perform, and among these was the necessity of

accompanying hunting-parties. I did not yet understand her position

here, nor had I heard from her yet how it was that she was so

different from the rest of them. That was all to be learned at a

future time. For the present I had to be satisfied with knowing

that she belonged to a different nation, who spoke a different

language, and that all her thoughts and feelings were totally

different from those of the people among whom she was living. She

loved the light, she feared death, and she had never been able in

the slightest degree to reconcile herself to the habits of these

people. This I could readily understand, for to me it seemed as

though they lived in opposition to nature itself.

We went out into the daylight, and then I saw a sight which

filled me with amazement. I saw a flock of birds larger than even

the opkuks. They were called "opmahera." They seemed as tall as

giraffes, and their long legs indicated great powers of running.

Their wings were very short, and not adapted for flight. They were

very tractable, and were harnessed for riding in a peculiar way;

lines like reins were fastened to the wings, and the driver, who

sat close by the neck, guided the bird in this way. Each bird

carried two men, but for Almah and me there was a bird apiece. An

iron prod was also taken by each driver as a spur. I did not find

out until afterward how to drive. At that time the prospect of so

novel a ride was such an exciting one that I forgot everything

else. The birds seemed quiet and docile. I took it for granted that

mine was well trained, and would go with the others of his own

accord. We all mounted by means of a stone platform which stood by

the pyramid, and soon were on our way.

The speed was amazing; the fastest race-horse at home is slow

compared with this. It was as swift as an ordinary railway train,

if not more so. For some minutes the novelty of my situation took

away all other thoughts, and I held the reins in my hands without

knowing how to use them. But this mattered not, for the

well-trained bird kept on after the others, while Almah on her bird

was close behind me. The pace, as I said, was tremendous, yet no

easier motion can be imagined. The bird bounded along with immense

leaps, with wings outstretched, but its feet touched the ground so

lightly that the motion seemed almost equal to flying. We did not

confine ourselves to the roads, for the birds were capable of going

over any kind of country in a straight line. On this occasion we

passed over wide fields and rocky mountain ridges and deep swamps

and sand wastes at the same speed, until at length we reached a

vast forest of dense tree-ferns, where the whole band stopped for a

short time, after which we took up a new direction, moving on more

slowly. The forest grew up out of a swamp, which extended as far as

the eye could reach from the sea to the mountains. Along the edge

of this forest we went for some time, until at length there came a

rushing, crackling sound, as of something moving there among the

trees, crushing down everything in its progress. We halted, and did

not have to wait long; for soon, not far away, there emerged from

the thick forest a figure of incredible size and most hideous

aspect.

It looked like one of those fabled dragons such as may be seen

in pictures, but without wings. It was nearly a hundred feet in

length, with a stout body and a long tail, covered all over with

impenetrable scales. It hind-legs were rather longer than its

fore-legs, and it moved its huge body with ease and rapidity. Its

feet were armed with formidable claws. But its head was most

terrific. It was a vast mass of bone, with enormous eyes that

glared like fire; its jaws opened to the width of six or eight

feet, and were furnished with rows of sharp teeth, while at the

extremity of its nose there was a tusk several feet long, like the

horn of a rhinoceros, curving backward. All this I took in at the

first glance, and the next instant the whole band of hunters, with

their usual recklessness, flung themselves upon the monster.

For a short time all was the wildest confusion—an intermingling

of birds and men, with the writhing and roaring beast. With his

huge claws and his curved horn and his wide jaws he dealt death and

destruction all around; yet still the assailants kept at their

work. Many leaped down to the ground and rushed close up to the

monster, thrusting their lances into the softer and more

unprotected parts of his body; while others, guiding their birds

with marvellous dexterity, assailed him on all sides. The birds,

too, were kept well to their work; nor did they exhibit any fear.

It was not until they were wounded that they sought to fly. Still,

the contest seemed too unequal. The sacrifice of life was horrible.

I saw men and birds literally torn to pieces before my eyes.

Nevertheless, the utter fearlessness of the assailants confounded

me. In spite of the s*******r, fresh crowds rushed on. They

clambered over his back, and strove to drive their lances under his

bony cuirass. In the midst of them I saw the Kohen. By some means

he had reached the animal's back, and was crawling along, holding

by the coarse shaggy mane. At length he stopped, and with a sudden

effort thrust his lance into the monster's eye. The vast beast gave

a low and terrible howl; his immense tail went flying all about; in

his pain he rolled over and over, crushing underneath him in his

awful struggles all who were nearest. I could no longer be

inactive. I raised my rifle, and as the beast in his writhings

exposed his belly I took aim at the soft flesh just inside his left

fore-leg, and fired both barrels.

At that instant my bird gave a wild, shrill scream and a vast

bound into the air, and then away it went like the wind—away, I

know not where. That first bound had nearly jerked me off; but I

managed to avoid this and now instinctively clung with all my might

to the bird's neck, still holding my rifle. The speed of the bird

was twice as great as it had been before—as the speed of a runaway

horse surpasses that of the same horse when trotting at his

ordinary rate and under control. I could scarcely make out where I

was going. Rocks, hills, swamps, fields, trees, sand, and sea all

seemed to flash past in one confused assemblage, and the only

thought in my mind was that I was being carried to some remote

wilderness, to be flung there bruised and maimed among the rocks,

to perish helplessly. Every moment I expected to be thrown, for the

progress of the bird was not only inconceivably swift, but it also

gave immense leaps into the air; and it was only its easy mode of

lighting on the ground after each leap that saved me from being

hurled off. As it was, however, I clung instinctively to the bird's

neck, until at last it came to a stop so suddenly that my hands

slipped, and I fell to the ground.

I was senseless for I know not how long. When at last I revived

I found myself propped up against a bank, and Almah bathing my head

with cold water. Fortunately, I had received no hurt. In falling I

had struck on my head, but it was against the soft turf, and though

I was stunned, yet on regaining my senses no further inconvenience

was experienced. The presence of Almah was soon explained. The

report of the rifle had startled her bird also, which had bounded

away in terror like mine; but Almah understood how to guide him,

and managed to keep him after me, so as to be of assistance in case

of need. She had been close behind all the time, and had stopped

when I fell, and come to my assistance.

The place was a slope looking out upon an arm of the sea, and

apparently remote from human abode. The scenery was exquisitely

beautiful. A little distance off we saw the edge of the forest; the

open country was dotted with clumps of trees; on the other side of

the arm of the sea was an easy declivity covered with trees of

luxuriant foliage and vast dimensions; farther away on one side

rose the icy summits of impassable mountains; on the other side

there extended the blue expanse of the boundless sea. The spot

where I lay was over-shadowed by the dense foliage of a tree which

was unlike anything that I had ever seen, and seemed like some

exaggerated grass; at our feet a brook ran murmuring to the shore;

in the air and all around were innumerable birds.

The situation in which I found myself seemed inexpressibly

sweet, and all the more so from the gentle face of Almah. Would it

not be well, I thought, to remain here? Why should Almah go back to

her repulsive duties? Why should we return to those children of

blood, who loved death and darkness? Here we might pass our days

together unmolested. The genial climate would afford us warmth; we

needed no shelter except the trees, and as for food, there were the

birds of the air in innumerable flocks.

I proposed this to her; she smiled sadly. "You forget," said

she, "this season of light will not last much longer. In a few more

joms the dark season will begin, and then we should perish in a

place like this."

"Are there no caverns here?"

"Oh no. This country has no inhabitants. It is full of fierce

wild beasts. We should be destroyed before one jom."

"But must we go back?" said I. "You have a country. Where is it?

See, here are these birds. They are swift. They can carry us

anywhere. Come, let us fly, and you can return to your own

country."

Almah shook her head. "These birds," said she, "cannot go over

the sea, or through these endless forests. My country can only be

reached by sea."

"Can we not hurry back, seize a boat, and go? I know how to sail

over the water without oars."

"We certainly might leave the country; but there is another

difficulty. The dark season is coming, and we should never be able

to find our way. Besides, the sea is full of monsters, and you and

I would perish."

"At any rate, let us try. I have my sepet-ram."

"We could never find our way."

"Only tell me," said I, "where it lies, and I will go by the

stars."

"The trouble is," said she, "that even if we did succeed in

reaching my land, I should be sent back again; for I was sent here

as a sacred hostage, and I have been here four seasons."

But in the midst of this conversation a sound arrested our

attention—heavy, puffing, snorting sound, as of some living thing.

Hastily I started up, rifle in hand, and looked; and as I looked I

felt my nerves thrill with horror. There, close by the shore, I saw

a vast form—a living thing—full sixty feet in length. It had a body

like that of an elephant, the head of a crocodile, and enormous

glaring eyes. Its immense body was covered with impenetrable armor,

and was supported on legs long enough to allow it to run with great

speed. It differed in many respects from the monster of the

swamp—the legs being longer, the tail shorter and thinner, and its

head and jaws larger and longer. I shrank back, thinking of seizing

Almah and hiding. But I saw that she had already taken the alarm,

and with more presence of mind than I had she had hurried to the

birds, who were standing near, and had made them lie down. As I

turned, she beckoned to me without a word. I hurried to her. She

told me to mount. I did so at once; she did the same. Scarce had we

mounted than the monster perceived us, and with a terrible bellow

came rushing toward us. Almah drove her goad deep into her bird,

which at once rose and went off like the wind, and mine started to

follow. The vast monster came on. His roar sounded close behind,

and I heard the clash of his tremendous jaws; but the swift bird

with a bound snatched me from his grasp, and bore me far away out

of his reach. Away I went like the wind. Almah was ahead, looking

back from time to time, and waving her hand joyously. So we went

on, returning on our course at a speed almost as great as that with

which we had come. By this time the novelty had in part worn away,

and the easy motion gave me confidence. I noticed that we were

travelling a wild, uninhabited, and rocky district by the sea-side.

Before me the country spread far away, interspersed with groves,

terminating in forests, and bounded in the far distance by

mountains. The country here was so rough that it seemed as if

nothing could pass over it except such creatures as these—the

opmaheras.

At length we arrived at the spot which we had left—the scene of

the hunt. We could see it from afar, for the opmaheras stood

quietly around, and the men were busy elsewhere. As we drew nearer

I saw the vast body of the monster. They had succeeded in killing

it, yet—oh heavens, at what a cost! One half of all the party lay

dead. The rest were unharmed, and among these was the Kohen. He

greeted me with a melancholy smile. That melancholy smile, however,

was not caused by the sad fate of his brave companions, but, as I

afterward learned, simply and solely because he himself had not

gained his death. When I saw that there were no wounded, a dark

suspicion came over me that the wounded had again been put to

death. I did not care to ask. The truth was too terrible to hear,

and I felt glad that accident had drawn me away. It was all a dark

and dreadful mystery. These people were the most gentle, the most

self-sacrificing, and the most generous in the world; yet their

strange and unnatural love of death made them capable of endless

atrocities. Life and light seemed to them as actual evils, and

death and darkness the only things worthy of regard.

Almah told me that they were going to bring the monster home,

and had sent for opkuks to drag it along. The dead were also to be

fetched back. There was no further necessity for us to remain, and

so we returned at once.

On the way, Almah said, "Do not use the sepet-ram again. You can

do no good with it. You must not make it common. Keep it. The time

may come when you will need it: you are not fond of death."

I shuddered.

"Never forget," she said, "that here death is considered the

chief blessing. It is useless for you to interfere in their ways.

You cannot change them."

Some more joms passed. The bodies were embalmed, and Almah had

more victims to crown with garlands in the horrible cheder

nebilin.