Т. C. Бриджес
Приключенията на Мартин Крузо (7)

T. C. Bridges
Martin Crusoe (7)

Страшилищата на върховете

През целия си живот Мартин не беше реагирал така светкавично, както в тези няколко секунди. С два-три скока той се озова до Сципион. Веднага след това се затъркаля втори каменен блок.

— Той иска навярно убие теб и мен, масса Мартин.

— Ако не беше ме предупредил навреме, Сципион, той щеше да успее.

— Истина, той за малко улучи тебе. Но това не смешно, има лоши диваци и ходят в този остров.

— Имаш право, Сципион. Трябваше да го оковем във вериги. По-добре да се посъветваме с професора.

Дистън много се разтревожи, когато Мартин му съобщи за случилото се.

— Не знам какво да правим — каза той, като поклати глава. — Градината и разсадникът са в ръцете на лемурите. Островът е пълен със скривалища, които той би могъл да използва.

— Не се безпокойте — каза Мартин. — Не трябва да му дадем възможност да проникне тук.

— Прав сте. Сципион знае всички изходи. Обиколете с него и ги затворете. Колкото до прохода в картинната галерия, ще поставим голяма скала върху плочата.

— Не е ли по-добре да вържем другия лемур, преди да тръгнем — загрижено каза Мартин.

— Безполезно е, нещастникът още не е дошъл на себе си, навярно сте го ударил доста силно, Мартин.

След десет минути Мартин съобщи на професора, че всички изходи са затворени.

— Вече можем да бъдем спокойни — каза Дистън. — Ако обичате, елате да преместим ранения. Добре ще направите, ако си легнете, защото предчувствам, че утрешният ден ще бъде пълен с изненади.

* * *

— Първата ни работа е да помислим как да хванем неприятеля — каза професорът, след като закусиха.

— Хрумна ми нещо. Мисля, че най-доброто средство ще бъде да го преследваме отвисоко.

— Със самолета-амфибия ли? Не е лошо като идея.

Без да губи време, Мартин се настани в „Летящата риба“. Двата мотора забръмчаха.

Той се плъзна по гладката повърхност на водата и леко се издигна във въздуха.

Като се обърна, Мартин едва успя да види моторната лодка, в която бяха професорът и Сципион. Тя излизаше от фиорда и плаваше със светкавична скорост.

Мартин подмина стръмните брегове и прелетя над склоновете на високия планински връх, в подножието на който се намираше пещерата. От другата страна на езерото се издигаше високата и стръмна планина с кратера.

Мартин се върна при пещерата, където забеляза дълга плитка долина, в дъното на която течеше поточе. Двата терасовидни бряга бяха покрити с буйна зеленина.

В продължение на половин час Мартин виждаше само птици.

Зави на север и започна да оглежда другия склон на планината, който беше много стръмен. По него не се виждаха нито дървета, нито храсти.

„Съмнително е да го намеря тук“ — каза си той, като направи бърз завой.

Стори му се, че нещо се движи по склона. Той се насочи право натам. Сърцето му се разтуптя от вълнение.

Мартин се приближи и видя отблясъците на слънчевите лъчи по златните украшения на шлема и бронята, но скоро забеляза и нещо друго.

Една грамадна черна сянка затъмни отблясъците.

Мартин се вцепени.

„Летящата риба“ мълниеносно измина разстоянието до човека. След няколко секунди тайната беше разкрита: една голяма птица беше нападнала лемура. Мартин не можеше да повярва.

Застанал на тясната пътека, опрял гръб на скалата, великанът отбиваше с късия си меч ударите на чудовището. Но колкото и грамаден да беше, в сравнение с птицата той изглеждаше като буболечка. Тя се спускаше върху него със страшна ярост.

Какво можеше да направи Мартин? Нямаше къде да кацне. Оставаше само едно — да се приближи, колкото може, и да привлече вниманието на хищника върху себе си, за да го изплаши.

След няколко секунди Мартин се озова при тях. Птицата отново бе нападнала противника си. Едрият лемур залитна, падна и остана неподвижен върху скалата.

„Взе ме за птица — помисли си Мартин. — Е, добре, драги мой, скоро ще видиш що за птица съм аз…“

И извади пистолета си.

Орелът се спусна върху него със страшна бързина. Какво ще стане, ако крилете му се заплетат в перките на самолета-амфибия? Беше опасно, защото птицата можеше да повреди „Летящата риба“.

Мартин зави и се отдалечи. Птицата полетя след него и удари дясното крило на летателния апарат.

Мартин започна да стреля, но куршумите само разяриха хищника, който отново го нападна с мълниеносна бързина.

Мартин беше опитен пилот и ловко избегна сблъсъка. Той беше изненадан от трето нападение, този път от другата страна. За да се предпази от удара, той направи един кръг и изведнъж го побиха трънки, защото видя, че това не е същата птица.

„Две птици! — помисли си Мартин. — Здравата загазих!“

VII. The Horror of the Heights

Never in his life had Martin moved so quickly as in the next few seconds after the fall of the stone. He was back beside Scipio in three jumps, but, quick as he was, a second rock was on its way down before he was actually in safety.

“Dat fellow sure want to kill us mighty bad, Marse Martin,” Scipio remarked.

“If you hadn’t called to me when you did, he would have killed me, Scipio,” replied Martin. “I only just turned in time.”

“Well, he didn’t git you, sah, and I reckon he won’t now,” he added quietly. “All de same, it ain’t no fun to hab one o’ dese here wild men a fossicking round loose all ober dis old island ob ours.”

“You’re right there, Scipio, it’s no fun at all. And it’s not going to be fun for any of us until we’ve got him safely boxed. Strikes me we’d best go back and ask the Professor what we are to do.”

The Professor was very much disturbed at the tidings which Martin brought him.

“I don’t know what we are to do,” he said, shaking his head. “The garden and orchard will be at the Lemurian’s mercy. This island is full of hiding-places of which he can take every advantage.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” said Martin. “I’m sure we shall find some way of tackling him. The great thing is to make sure that he can’t get in here.”

“Quite so. Scipio knows all the entrances. Go round with him and see that all are closed. As for this trap-door in the Painted Hall, we can make it safe by rolling a rock upon it.”

“Hadn’t we better tie up this other Lemurian before I go?” suggested Martin, anxiously.

The Professor smiled.

“No need for that. The unfortunate man is still insensible. You must have hit him pretty hard, Martin.”

“Not too hard, I hope, sir.”

“Oh, no! His skull is fairly solid, and he will pull round. But he has concussion, and is not likely to be troublesome for some days to come. Now go and see to the doors.”

Ten minutes later Martin was able to report to the Professor that it was quite impossible for anyone to get in.

“Very good,” said the Professor. “Now you and Scipio can help me to put this man to bed, and after that you had better get some sleep. I foresee a busy day tomorrow.”

The Lemurian was young and not so huge as most of his fellows, yet even so it was as much as the three of them could do to carry him to a room, and put him to bed.

This done, the Professor ordered Martin to bed again, and Martin was not sorry. He was sore all over from the handling he had had that night, and, once he got off to sleep again, never moved until he woke, with the sun blazing through the long window of his room, full in his eyes, and Scipio standing beside him, with a cup of delicious hot chocolate on a tray.

“Bath ready, sah,” announced the good fellow. “Yo come wid me. I show you whar he is.”

The bath was in a rock chamber behind the bedrooms. A stream of water came pouring through the roof into a great rock basin. It was crystal clear and icy cold. Martin fairly revelled in it, and came out with a keen appetite.

“And now, Martin,” said the Professor, when they had finished a hearty breakfast, “the next thing is to devise some plan for capturing our enemy. But how it is to be done I confess I have not the faintest idea. If we start out afoot the chances are we shall find ourselves the hunted instead of the hunters.”

“I should think we should, sir,” Martin answered. “The chap is as strong as all three of us put together. He can move like a cat, jump like a goat, and swim like an otter. Into the bargain, I expect his senses are a lot keener than ours.”

“I agree with every word you say, Martin,” said the Professor. “Yet I do not see any alternative. Do you?”

“Yes,” replied Martin, “I do. I’ve been thinking it over, and it seems to me that our best plan will be to hunt him from the air.”

The other looked up quickly. “Your aeroplane, you mean? I never thought of that. Undoubtedly you are right.”

Martin lost no time in getting aboard his plane.

The great twin engines roared, and the echoes thrown back from the rocky roof were deafening as the graceful machine taxied swiftly down the tunnel, through the fiord, and so into the open lake.

Once outside, Martin opened the throttle to its widest, and, tearing across the smooth surface, pushed over the control, and found himself lifting lightly into the sunny air.

Turning his head he caught a glimpse of the Professor and Scipio just shooting out from the fiord in the launch. In a moment it had dwindled to the size of a toy, and Martin was wheeling upwards in steep circles.

His idea was to cruise about at a moderate height, and endeavor to get sight of the Lemurian.

Very soon he was above the tall cliffs, and sailing over the lower slopes of the great peak in the foot of which were the caves. Above him the snow-clad mountain towered against the blue, like a cone of icing sugar. On the far side of the lake the twin mountain stood up steeper and darker, with its trail of volcanic smoke drifting lazily before the wind.

Martin flew back over the range of caves, and presently caught sight of a long shallow valley down the center of which a stream poured in little waterfalls. The ground on either side was terraced and vividly green.

“Ah, that’s the garden,” he said to himself. “Now, I wonder if the man is there?”

Twice he circled over it, dropping lower. But there was no moving thing, to be seen, and, rising again, he began to search the whole mountain side, quartering to and fro just as a kestrel hawk hunts across a meadow for field-mice or voles.

Half an hour passed, and Martin had seen nothing moving except birds, rock rabbits, and once a great snake trailing its shimmering coils across the rock. He turned north, and began searching that side of the peak.

Here the slope was steeper and wilder. There was little in the way of shrubs, and the only green he saw was strips of grass lining the banks of the many little torrents which came tumbling from the heights.

“Hardly likely that he’s there,” he said to himself; and banking steeply, came round again. As he came round he suddenly caught a glimpse of something moving far up against the steep mountain side. Mere dot as it was he realized that it was something living and something larger than he had yet seen.

Instantly he swung towards it, and his heart gave a great throb.

“It’s he,” he gasped—“the man himself! But what, in the name of all that’s wonderful, is he doing up there?”

It was the Lemurian. Of that there was no doubt whatever. As the plane flashed towards him, Martin could clearly see the sun’s rays reflected from the gold on his helmet and corselet, and very soon he saw something else.

Every other moment the reflection from the golden armor was cut off by a great, dark shadow which passed to and fro.

Martin was puzzled.

“Something is attacking him,” he said in a low voice. “But what can it be? What creature, except a goat or a mountain sheep, could live on these heights?”

The Bat devoured the distance at the rate of a mile and a half a minute, and it was only a matter of seconds before the puzzle was solved. It was no wild beast that was attacking the Lemurian, but a bird; a bird of such monstrous size that it made Martin blink with amazement.

Standing on a ledge, with his back against the sheer rock, the golden giant defended himself bravely with his short sword against the attacks of his enemy. But, big as he was, the bird fairly dwarfed him. Judging roughly, Martin thought that the creature must be at least twelve feet across the wings, and the swift fury of its swoops made him see how fearless and formidable an enemy it was.

Martin wondered what on earth he could do. Naturally, it was impossible to land. It seemed to him that the only thing to do was to fly past as closely as possible, and endeavor to draw off or frighten the huge bird of prey.

He had not much time to consider. Traveling at such speed, he was on the scene of battle in a few seconds. Just as he came swirling up he saw the bird make a fresh dash, and this time its attack appeared to succeed. The Lemurian swayed, staggered, and, falling over sideways, lay motionless on the ledge.

“Poor fellow!” muttered Martin. In spite of the fact that the man had done his best to kill him on the previous evening Martin felt a pang of real sorrow.

Next moment Martin’s own hands were full, for the bird, swinging past the fallen man, had sighted the plane, and turned upon it with fury.

“Takes me for another bird,” Martin said aloud. “Well, he’ll learn the difference.” As he spoke he drew his pistol from its holster.

The eagle was coming for him straight as a bullet, and with a speed equal to his own. Martin realized that if the bird got mixed up in the plane, the results might be very serious indeed. Its weight and bulk were so great that it might easily break a blade of one of the tractors, in which case the Bat would be helpless as far as flying went.

In order to avoid this danger, he banked sharply and swung out widely from the mountain side. Quick as he was, his enemy was as quick. It struck the right hand upper plane, and Martin saw with dismay that a long strip of the canvas had been torn away.

“The brute!” he cried, and flung the plane into a swift dive.

For the moment he lost sight of the bird, but only for a moment. Then it was at him again. Pulling his control towards him, he shot up again. This brought him abreast of his adversary, and instantly he let fly with his pistol. The shooting seemed to drive the bird frantic with rage, and it came at him like a thunderbolt.

By the smartest possible manouevering he just managed to avoid its onslaught; but the next moment he got a fresh shock, for here was the bird attacking him from the other—that is, the left-hand—side. As he swerved once more to avoid it, he saw, to his horror, that it was not the same bird, but another, even larger than the first.

“A pair of them!” he gasped. “This looks ugly!”