Edgar Burroughs: Carson of Venus

"What do you want me to do?" he demanded.

"I want you to lead me to the village of Houtomai ."

He looked at me suspiciously, and hesitated.

"Don't forget that I saved your life," I reminded him.

"That's right," he said. "I do owe you something—a debt of gratitude, at least. But why do you want to go to Houtomai?"

"I want to see if my mate is there. She was stolen by some warrior women this morning."

"Well, why do you want to get her back? I wish some one would steal Bund."

"You wouldn't understand, Lula," I told him; "but I certainly do want to get her back. Will you help me?"

"I could take you as far as the mouth of The Narrow Canyon," he said; "but I couldn't take you into the village. They'd kill us both. They'll kill you when you get there, anyway. If you had black hair you might escape notice, but that funny yellow hair of yours would give you away the very first thing. Now, if you had black hair, you could sneak in after dark and come into one of the men's caves. That way you might escape notice for a long time. Even if some of the women saw you, they wouldn't know the difference. They don't pay much attention to any but their own men."

"But wouldn't the men give me away?"

"No; they'd think it was a great joke—fooling the women. If you were found out, we'd just say you fooled us, too. My, I wish you had black hair."

I, too, wished then that I had black hair, if that would help me get into the village of Houtomai . Presently, a plan occurred to me.

"Lula," I asked, "did you ever see an anotar before?" nodding toward the ship.

He shook his head. "Never."

"Want to have a look at it?"

He said he'd like to; so I climbed into the cockpit, inviting him to follow me. When he had seated himself beside me, I buckled the safety belt across him to demonstrate it as I was explaining its purpose.

"Would you like to take a ride?" I asked.

"Up in the air?" he demanded. "Mercy, I should say not."

"Well, just along the ground, then."

"Just a little way along the ground?"

"Yes," I promised, "just a little way along the ground," and I wasn't lying to him. I taxied around until we were headed into the wind; then I gave her the gun. "Not so fast!" he screamed; and he tried to jump out, but he didn't know how to unfasten the safety belt. He was so busy with it that he didn't look up for several seconds. When he did, we were a hundred feet off the ground and climbing rapidly. He gave one look, screamed, and closed his eyes. "You lied to me," he cried. "You said we'd go just a little way along the ground."

"We ran only a little way along the ground," I insisted. "I didn't promise that I wouldn't go into the air." It was a cheap trick, I'll admit; but there was more than life at stake for me, and I knew that the fellow was perfectly safe. "You needn't be afraid," I reassured him. "It's perfectly safe. I've flown millions of klookob in perfect safety. Open your eyes and look around. You'll get used to it in a minute or two, and then you'll like it."

He did as I bid, and though he gasped a bit at first he soon became interested and was craning his neck in all directions looking for familiar landmarks.

"You're safer here than you would be on the ground," I told him; "neither the women nor the tharbans can get you."

"That's right," he admitted.

"And you should be very proud, too, Lula"

"Why?" he demanded.

"As far as I know, you're the third human being ever to fly in the air in Amtor, excepting the klangan; and I don't count them as human, anyway."

"No," he said, "they're not—they're birds that can talk. Where are you taking me?"

"We're there. I'm coming down now." I was circling above the plain where I had made the kill before Duare was stolen. A couple of beasts were feeding on the carcass, but they took fright and ran away as the ship dropped near them for a landing. Jumping out, I cut strips of fat from the carcass, threw them into the cockpit, climbed in and took off. By this time, Lula was an enthusiastic aeronaut, and if it hadn't been for the safety belt he would have fallen out in one of his enthusiastic attempts to see everything in all directions at one and the same time. Suddenly, he realized that we were not flying in the direction of Houtomai.

"Hey!" he cried. "You're going in the wrong direction—Houtomai is over there. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get black hair," I told him.

He gave me a frightened look. I guess he thought he was up in the air with a maniac; then he subsided, but he kept watching me out of the corner of an eye.

I flew back to the River of Death , where I recalled having seen a low, flat island; and, dropping my pontoons, landed on the water and taxied into a little cove that indented the island. I managed, after a little maneuvering, to get ashore with a rope and tie the ship to a small tree; then I got Lula to come ashore and build me a fire. I could have done it myself, but these primitive men accomplish it with far greater celerity than I ever could acquire. From a bush I gathered a number of large, waxlike leaves. When the fire was burning well, I took most of the fat and dropped it in piece by piece and very laboriously and slowly accumulated soot on the waxy faces of the leaves. It took much longer than I had hoped it would, but at last I had enough for my purpose. Mixing the soot with a small quantity of the remaining fat I rubbed it thoroughly into my hair, while Lula watched me with a broadening grin. From time to time I used the still surface of the cove for a mirror, and when I had completed the transformation I washed the soot from my hands and face, using the ashes of the fire to furnish the necessary lye to cut the greasy mess At the same time, I washed the blood from my face and body. Now I not only looked, but felt, like a new man. I was rather amazed to realize that during all the excitement of the day I had almost forgotten my wounds.

"Now, Lula," I said, "climb aboard and we'll see if we can find Houtomai."

The take-off from the river was rather exciting for the Amtorian, as I had to make a very long run of it because of the smoothness of the water, throwing spray in all directions, but at last we were in the air and headed for Houtomai. We had a little difficulty in locating The Narrow Canyon because from this new vantage point the ordinarily familiar terrain took on a new aspect for Lula, but at last he gave a yell and pointed down. I looked and saw a narrow canyon with steep walls, but I saw no village.

"Where's the village?" I asked.

"Right there," replied Lula, but still I could not see it, "but you can't see the caves very well from here."

Then I understood—Houtomai was a village of cave dwellers. No wonder I had flown over it many times without recognizing it. I circled several times studying the terrain carefully, and also watching the time. I knew that it must be quite close to sundown, and I had a plan. I wanted Lula to go into the canyon with me and show me the cave in which he dwelt. Alone, I could never have found it. I was afraid that if I brought him to the ground too soon he might take it into his head to leave for home at once; then there would have been trouble, and I might have lost his help and co-operation.

I had found what I considered a relatively safe place to leave the ship, and as night was falling I brought her into a beautiful landing. Taxiing to a group of trees, I tied her down as best I could; but I certainly hated to go off and leave that beautiful thing alone in this savage country. I was not much concerned for fear that any beast would damage it. I was sure they would be too much afraid of it to go near it for a long while, but I didn't know what some ignorant human savages might do to it if they found it there. However, there was nothing else to be done.