CHAPTER IX

_A Premonition_

Fire Valley had been the home of the ape-men. On that earlier journey

Walt and Chet had seen them, had fought with the tribe, and had lived

for a time in their caves that made dark shadows high on the rock wall.

And they knew that the wood the ape-men used for their spears was well

suited for bows.

Back in the caves they found discarded spears and some wood that had

been gathered for shafts. Tough, springy, flexible, it was a simple

matter for the men to convert these into serviceable weapons. Sinews

that the ape-men had torn from great beasts made the bowstrings, and

there were other slim shafts that they notched, then sharpened in the

fire.

Yet, to Chet as he worked, came an overwhelming feeling of despondency.

To be fashioning crude weapons like these--preparing to defend

themselves as best they could from the dangers of this new, raw world!

No, it could not be true.... And he knew while he protested that it was

all in vain.

He asked himself a score of times if his impulsive, desperate act had

not been a horrible mistake. And he found the same answer always: it was

all he could have done. Had he attacked Schwartzmann he would have been

killed--and Walt, too! Schwartzmann would have had Diane. Only some such

stupefying shock as the effect of the shattered control could have

checked Schwartzmann. No, there had been no alternative. And the thing

was done. Finally, irrevocably done!

* * * * *

Chet walked to the cave-mouth to stare down at the ship below him in the

valley. From the fumerole's throat came a steady, rolling cloud of

shimmering green; the ship was immersed in it. The voice of Herr Kreiss

spoke to him; the scientist, too, had come forward for another look.

"If it were at the bottom of the sea," he said, "it would be no more

inaccessible. It is, in very fact, at the bottom of a sea--a sea of gas.

We could penetrate an aqueous medium more easily."

"And," Chet pondered slowly, "if only I could have returned.... With

time--and metal bars--and tools that I could improvise--I might...."

His voice trailed off. What use now to speculate on what he might have

done. The scientist concluded his thought:

"You might have reconstructed the control--yes, I, too, had thought of

that. But now, the gas! No--we must put that out of our minds, unless we

would become insane."

Chet turned back into the black and odorous cave. He saw Harkness who

was flexing a bow he was making for Diane; he was showing her how to

grip it and let the arrow run free.

"Towahg was the last one I instructed," Walt was saying; and Chet knew

from the deep lines in his face that his attempt at casual talk was for

Diane's benefit; "I wonder how long Towahg remembered. He was a grateful

little animal."

"Towahg?" queried Kreiss. "Who is Towahg?"

"Ape-man," Harkness told him. "Friendly little rascal; he helped us out

when we were here before. He saved Diane's life, no question about that.

I showed him the use of the bow; jumped him ahead a hundred generations

in the art of self-defense."

"And offense!" was Kreiss' comment. "There are certain drawbacks to

arming a potential enemy."

"Oh, Towahg is all right," Harkness reassured the scientist, "although

he may have taught the trick to others of the tribe who are not so

friendly."

"Where are they? In what direction do they live?" Kreiss continued.

"Want to make a social call?" Chet inquired. "You needn't mind those

little formalities up here, Doctor."

* * * * *

But in the mental makeup of Herr Doktor Kreiss had been included no

trace of humor; he took Chet's remark at face value. And he answered in

words that echoed Chet's real thoughts and that took the smile from his

lips.

"But, no," said Herr Kreiss; "it is the contrary that I desire. Here we

are; here we stay for the rest of our lives. I would wish those years to

be undisturbed. I have no wish to quarrel with what primitive

inhabitants this globe may hold. There is much to study, to learn. I

shall pass the years so.

"And now," he questioned, "where is it that we go? Where shall be our

home?"

Chet, too, looked inquiringly at Harkness. "You saw more of this country

than I did," he reminded him; "what would you suggest?"

And, at sight of the serious, troubled eyes of Diane Delacouer, he

added:

"We want a site for a high-grade subdivision, you understand. Something

good, something exclusive, where we can keep out the less desirable

element. Dianeville must appeal to the people who rate socially."

At the puzzled look on the scientist's face, Chet caught Diane's glance

of unspoken amusement, and knew that his ruse had succeeded: he must not

let Diane get too serious. Harkness answered slowly:

"I saw a valley; I think I can find it again. When Towahg guided me back

to the ship, when we were here before, I saw the valley beyond the third

range of hills. We go up Fire Valley; follow the stream that comes in

from the side--"

"Water?" Chet questioned.

"Yes; I saw a lake."

"Cover? Trees? Not the man-eating ones?"

"Everything: open ground, hills, woods. It looked good to me then; it

will look a lot better now," said Walt enthusiastically.

"Walk faster," said Chet; "I'm stepping on your heels."

* * * * *

They reached the valley floor some distance above the fumerole and the

clouds of poison gas; and the march began. The attack of the flying

reptiles had taught them the danger of exposure in the open, and they

kept close to the trees that fringed the valley.

Once Chet left them and vanished among the trees, to return with the

body of an animal slung over one shoulder.

"Moon-pig!" he told the others. "Ask Doctor Kreiss if you want to know

its species and ancestry and such things. All I know is that it has got

hams, and I am going to roast a slice or so before we start."

"Bow and arrow?" asked Harkness.

Chet nodded. "I'm a dead shot," he admitted, "up to a range of ten feet.

This thing with the funny face stood still for me, so it looks as if we

won't starve."

The sun had swung rapidly into the sky; it was now overhead. One half of

their first short day was gone. And Chet's suggestions of food met with

approval.

"I can't quite get used to it," Diane admitted to the rest; "to think

that for us time has turned back. We have been dropped into a new and

savage world, and we must do as the savages of our world did thousands

of years ago. Now!--in nineteen seventy-three!"

Chet removed a slab of meat from the hot throat of a tiny fumerole.

"Nineteen seventy-three on Earth," he agreed, "but not here. This is

about nineteen thousand B.C."

* * * * *

He called to Kreiss who was digging into a thin stratum of rock. The

scientist had a splinter of flint in his hand, and he was gouging at a

red outcropping layer.

"Old John Q. Neanderthal, himself!" said Chet. "What have you found,

silver or gold? Whatever it is, you're forgetting to eat; better come

along." But Doctor Kreiss had turned geologist, it was plain.

"Cinnabar," he said; "an ore of hydrargyrum!" His tone was excited, but

Chet refused to have his mind turned from practical things.

"Is it good to eat?" he demanded.

"_Nein, nein!_" Kreiss protested. "It is what you call

mercury--quicksilver!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Chet dryly, "I see where this man Kreiss is

to be a big help. He has discovered the site for the thermometer

factory. He will be organizing a Chamber of Commerce next."

He left out a portion of the cooked meat for Kreiss' later attention,

and he and Harkness rolled a supply into leaf-wrapped packages and

stowed them in the pockets of their coats before they started on. Again

the little procession took up the march with Harkness leading.

"Leave as little trail as possible," Harkness ordered. "We don't want to

shout to Schwartzmann where we have gone."

They left the Valley of the Fires to follow the stream-bed in another

hollow between great hills. Chet found himself looking back at the

familiar flares with regret. Here was the only place on this new world

which was not utterly strange to his eyes. He continued to glance behind

him, long after the smoky fires were lost to sight; but he would not

admit even to himself that it was for another reason.

Nineteen seventy-three!--and he was a man of the modern civilization.

Yet deep within him there stirred ancient instincts--racial memories,

perhaps. And, as he splashed through the little stream and bent to make

his way through strange-leafed vines and leprous-spotted trees, a

warning voice spoke inaudibly within his own mind--spoke as it might

have whispered to some ancestor scores of centuries dead.

"You are followed!" it told him. "Listen!--there is one who follows on

the trail!"