Jongor needed no time to size up the situation and to determine his chances. He knew instantly that he had no chance of facing this kill-crazy mob of monkey men. He would go down in the first wave. They would do to him all the things they were threatening to do.
A QUICK glance upward showed him that the hook had shifted. It was out of his reach. Perhaps a mighty leap might take him to it. Perhaps not. He knew he had no time to jump twice. If the first leap did not take him to the hook . . . He shook his head. The only chance he had . . .
A single leap took him up on the machine. He slammed himself into the seat where he had seen Gnomer sit.
He did not understand the operation of the levers, but he had seen Gnomer move them. He jammed the nearest one forward as far as it would go.
Out from the snout of the machine a blast of violent radiation flared, it was not light, it was much too Intense for that. It was such a flare of blinding radiance as might be found at the center of the sun. The tube was pointed slightly upward toward the wall. The blast of radiation hit there. Rock showered outward..
Inside the hooded guts of the mighty machine a grumbling roar began to build up. It was a thundering tumult of sound, the same sound that Ann and Jongor had heard when they had been held prisoner in the cell far above.
“This one turns loose the blast,” Jongor thought. “The other one . . .”
He shoved the other lever. Instantly. the giant tube began to swing around.
The blast of radiation struck the charging Murtos.
Like leaves before the hurricane, the radiation swept them backward. There was force in that light blast, force enough to lift a heavy monkey-man from his feet and to hurl him backward. There was heat in the blast too.
Jongor saw the Murtos lifted upward and hurled backward. As they were hurled away, their fur began to flame. By the time they hit the far wall, the energy blast was so fierce that their whole bodies were burning.
Jongor saw Great Orbo, his fanged mouth agape, caught in the blast of radiant flame. Saw the Murto lifted, twisted, hurled backward, heard Great Orbo’s scream go into silence as he hit the wall.
All over the bottom of the pit, the Murtos who remained alive were running. They had met their own great god. They didn’t care to have anything more to do with him. It was one thing when they were here to watch a sacrifice to this machine that they worshipped; it was quite another thing when they found themselves being offered as sacrifices.
The bottom of the vast pit was suddenly deserted.
The screams went into quick silence. Jongor turned off the machine. The throbbing roar died into silence. Now, yells of exultation coming from up above.
“Give ’em hell, Jongor!”
THAT was Alan Hunter yelling up there. At the sound, a semblance of a grin split Jongor’s face. He rode the hook upward to where Ann and Alan waited.
“Now we can leave Lost Land in safety,” Jongor said. “I do not imagine the Murtos will bother us again. Nor will Gnomer and Rous.”
“Thank heaven we can finally get away from here,” Ann spoke.
“I’ll be glad to get out, too,” Alan said. As he spoke, wistfulness sounded in his voice. Suddenly he was speaking again, words that were coming straight out of his heart. “But I’m coming back here some day. There’s a lot that modern science can learn from studying these ancient Murians. That disintegrating ray down there, the crystal you wear, some of the other things we have seen. There’s enough stuff here to keep a whole staff of scientists busy for a whole generation. I’m coming back here and I’m going to bring scientists with me.” Alan suddenly paused, a little embarrassed by his own words.
“Why, Alan, you never indicated any interest in science before,” Ann said, surprised.
“I know. But I’ve learned a lot of things here. And I’m coming back.”
“Then I’ll come back with you, some day,” Jongor spoke impulsively. Born in this land, he had but a dim knowledge of science, but he sensed from Alan’s attitude that here was something important. Of course, he wanted to see America first, the land of his parents, but later . . .
“Then I’m coming too,” Ann said. “You two needn’t think you can slip back here and leave me at home. We’ll make it a threesome—”
A startled scream burst from her lips.
The three had been moving away from the ledge toward the opening of the tunnel that led to the outer world. They stopped.
Calazao stood there. The battleaxe was swinging freely in his hands.
“Where did he come from?” Ann gasped.
“It doesn’t matter where he came from. All that matters is that he is here,” Alan answered.
“Ho!” Calazao said. The sound was more of a grunt than a voiced word. Swinging his battleaxe, he charged full speed toward them.
THIS time his prey would not escape him. The fact that Jongor had eluded him in their previous counter had been a stinging nettle in the giant’s pride. He had brooded about it until it had become almost more than he could bear. No other creature in Lost Land had ever been able to stand against him. Nor would Jongor. Not if Calazao could do anything about it.
“Get to one side,” Jongor shouted to Ann and Alan. At his command, they leaped like startled children.
“Ho!” the giant screamed again. His battle-axe lifted high, he charged full speed ahead. It would be nothing for him to smash this smooth-skinned creature to the floor. Once the Murtos had paid him well for attempting to capture this creature. No doubt they would pay him even better for killing the man animal that they hated. Besides, there was his own pride to be considered.
Jongor stood waiting the charge. His body had dropped to a half crouch, but he had made no effort to escape.
He was unarmed, he had not even a knife. All he had were his hands, his wits, and his speed.
Calazao charged full tilt toward him. Jongor did not attempt to dodge. As the battle-axe started downward, as Calazao was almost upon him, Jongor moved—-lightning fast! He went in under the falling axe, he caught the charging giant about the middle, lifted him.
Although Jongor did not know he was doing it, he was unconsciously using one of the oldest tricks that wrestlers know—using the strength of the other man against him. The battle-axe clanged heavily as the startled Calazao let go of it.
Jongor had him in the air. Moving at full speed, allowing the giant’s momentum to carry him even faster, he raced toward the edge of the ledge.
The “Ho!” of delighted anticipation at the thought of crushing Jongor turned to a scream of mortal anguish as Calazao divined—too late—what was happening to him. Releasing the vast bulk, Jongor hurled Calazao outward, over the edge of the pit.
The scream came echoing back. Metal crashed heavily. Echoes flung back the sound. Then there was silence, sudden and complete.
VERY soberly, the three made their way out of the ancient mines of the Murians.
Outside was the bright light of day. The sun was not two hours high in the sky. Before them, stretching away into far distances, was the vast expanse of Lost Land. Mists hung over the swamps. The sunlight made the mists pearl-colored. Brightly colored birds flashed in the trees. To their right and a little below them was the city of the Murtos. If any of the monkey-men had survived the blast inside and seen the three humans, they turned and went hastily in the other direction. So far as the Murtos were concerned, it was all right with them if they never saw another human being. The Murtos had seen all of that breed of animal they ever wanted to see.
Off in the swamp, something moved.
Jongor saw it. He glanced down at the crystal on his wrist.
“I see a dino,” he said. “Wait until I call up that mountain of worm food. This time, we will ride out of Lost Land in style.”
“There’s nothing that I like better than riding in style,” Alan Hunter grinned.
Jongor felt a grin spread over his face, too. He slipped his arm around Ann’s shoulder. Something of contentment came up inside of him. He
was going to see the land of his parents. But one day he was coming back to the only home he had ever known.
The three of them made their way slowly toward the swamp where the dinosaur was feeding.
THE END
[*] See Jongor of Lost Land (October, 1940, FANTASTIC ADVENTURES) and The Return of Jongor (April 1944, FANTASTIC ADVENTURES). Jongor was the son of Capt. Robert Gordon, one-time U.S. Naval aviator, who, with his bride, had attempted to fly over that vast expanse of western Australia desert country where Lost Land is located. Here, in a huge valley hidden away behind high mountains, the world of hundreds of thousands of years ago still exists. Here the dinosaurs have survived, as have the pterodactyls, those winged dragon lizards of antiquity, and other savage beasts of the days when the earth was young. Lost Land is surrounded by mountains. The mountains in turn are surrounded by deserts, thus making exploration almost impossible. It is very probable, indeed, that this whole vast valley, hundreds of square miles in area. Is actually the partly filled-in crater of an extinct volcano.
In attempting to fly over this area. Captain Robert Gordon’s plane was caught in a fierce air current and he was forced to make a crash landing. He and his bride came out of the crash alive, but they were never able to find their way out of Lost Land. Here a son was born to then)—John. John’s first babyish effort to pronounce his name resulted in Jongor, for John Gordon. As a result, his parents had always called him Jongor and he had grown up known by that name. When Jongor was twelve, his parents were killed by pterodactyls. He was left alone to survive in a jungle land where danger lurked behind every bush and death lurked at every waterhole. The boy managed to survive and in the process of survival became a black-haired, thick-chested, mighty-muscled giant.
Alan Hunter was an adventurous youth who also penetrated Lost Land and couldn’t find his way out. His sister Ann put off her gay social life of a wealthy debutante to come and search for him. She found Jongor. Jongor found Alan. In the search, they met and overcame bands of Murtos, degenerate descendants of a colonial outpost maintained as a mining colony in this valley in long-gone times by the Murian, the inhabitants of Mu. At the three were leaving the valley, the Murtos, under the leadership of Great Orbo and his lieutenant, Umber, tricked them into returning. Coming back, they were forced to go to the land of the Arklans, a race of centaurs that had survived in this vast wilderness, and to witness the destruction of the last citadel of the Arklans.
The Murtos still possess some of the science of their ancestors, but it is a degenerate defense, used by rote, with no real understanding of the principles involved. They have sunk so low that the only weapons they have left which they know how to use are clubs and spears, although they have legends of other days when they had other, far stronger, weapons.
Jongor, Ana and Alan Hunter are again leaving Lost Land to return to America, when this story opens.
Jongor- the Complete Tales Page 24