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Updated: June 18, 2025
Here, there they pierced, striving to determine whether any ambushed foe were lying there in wait for him. "Surrender!" he cried loudly in the Merucaan tongue. "If there be any here who war with me, surrender! At the first sign of fight, you die!" No answer.
Together he and Bremilu crept through the jungle toward the thicket. Wide-eyed, yet seeing almost nothing, Allan crawled noiselessly, automatic in hand. The Merucaan slid along, silent as an Apache. "Tell me if you see the thing again if you see it turn!" whispered Stern. "Tell me, for you can see." Now the distance was cut in half; now only a third of it remained.
With bubbling yells it came, trampling the undergrowth, drumming on its huge breast, gibbeting with demoniac rage and pain came swiftly, like the terrific things that people nightmares. Behind it, shouts echoed. Stern heard the voice of Zangamon as, spear in hand, the Merucaan pursued. He raised his revolver once more, but dared not fire.
"Just as I have substituted the metric system for the old-time chaotic hodge-podge we once used, so I shall substitute English for Merucaan definitely inside of a few years. Already the younger generation hardly understands the native Merucaan speech. It will eventually become a dead, historically interesting language, like all other former tongues.
Stern's eyes could distinguish no slightest trace on the stone, but the Merucaan spoke with certainty. He added: "There was fighting, all the way along here, master. And then, here, the girl was dragged." Stern stumbled blindly after him as he led the way. "There was fighting here? She struggled?" "Yes, master." "Thank God! She was alive here, anyhow! She wasn't killed in the cave.
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