Read Ebook: The Wolf-Men: A Tale of Amazing Adventure in the Under-World by Powell David Franklin

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Ebook has 1472 lines and 60829 words, and 30 pages

For a few seconds he hung, twisting and swaying, at the end of the rope, until his feet found hold on a narrow ledge in the face of the rock. On to this he drew himself.

For the moment he was safe.

As he stood there, gasping and panting, feeling as though he had not a whole bone in his body, the glare of Haverly's lantern pierced the gloom.

Looking upward, Seymour saw his friend's face peering anxiously down from the cliff top.

"It's all right, Silas," he panted; "I'll be with you at soon as I've got my wind."

"Jupiter!" exclaimed the American, "I reckoned you'd passed in your checks for sure that time. It was a narrow squeak! Take your time," he continued, as the baronet commenced to haul himself up. "Don't overdo it."

Four minutes later Seymour's head appeared above the edge of the cliff, and, with the millionaire's ready help, he dragged himself over into safety.

"I wouldn't go through that again for a king's ransom," he said.

"I guess you'd hardly come out of it so well another time," returned Silas; "it's the closest call I've struck for a considerable stretch. Say when you're ready and we'll hustle."

"I'm ready at once," was the answer.

A little over half an hour it took the two friends to pick up the trail of the wolf-men, then they pushed on once more at their utmost speed.

The character of the country changed entirely as they advanced, the level plain giving place to a series of rolling ridges, which made progress extremely difficult.

Added to this, the temperature appeared to be gradually rising, and soon their bodies were bathed in perspiration.

"Warm work," remarked Haverly, pausing on the crest of a ridge to mop his forehead.

"Too warm to be pleasant," replied his friend. "I should imagine that we are approaching a subterranean fire of some sort. What's that?" he broke off sharply.

A shrill scream, thrilling with agony, rose from the ravine at their feet.

"Look to your shootin' iron," said the Yankee; "sounds as if you'll need it."

He jerked his own revolver from his pocket as he spoke.

"I must have lost my barker," Seymour muttered, feeling through his pockets.

"I guess your rifle will manage," was the reply.

Once more the cry arose, and at that they commenced the descent of the ridge.

As they neared the base, two wildly-grappling forms loomed through the twilight. In a moment Haverly switched on the light of his lantern, and focussed its rays upon the combatants.

Struggling desperately in the coils of a monstrous serpent was one of the fearsome wolf-men.

Three of the reptile's great glistening folds encircled the savage's body; the mighty jaws gaped expectantly above him, while the beadlike eyes were fixed in a fascinating stare upon the unfortunate creature.

"We can't stand by and see him crushed to death by that brute," cried the baronet impulsively, "even though he is a wolf-man."

"Best not to interfere," returned the Yankee shortly.

At that instant the wolf-man, attracted by the light, turned his head towards the two friends and raised his hands imploringly, while from his lips came another agonised scream.

That settled the question for Seymour. Quick as thought he raised his rifle and fired. At the report the great, yawning head vanished, shattered to atoms, and the body, relaxing its grip of the savage, thrashed up the ravine as though still endowed with life.

As it vanished into the gloom the wolf-man rose, rushed forward, and cast himself down at Seymour's feet.

"I've no small notion that we'll strike trouble over this job," said Haverly ominously, "and that before a great while either. What the Barnum we're to do with this long-shanked freak I know no more'n Caesar."

"He may prove useful," the baronet suggested.

"He may," was the Yankee's unpromising answer, "but I guess the odds lie the other way. Hi, Pharaoh!"--addressing the cringing savage--"get up from there right now. You're black enough without wiping your face in the mud."

As though conscious that he was addressed, the creature raised his head, and glared fiercely at Haverly.

"Get up," the latter repeated roughly; then, seizing the wolf-man by his girdle, jerked him to his feet.

A baleful light flashed from the creature's eyes, and, for an instant, it appeared as though he was about to spring at the millionaire's throat, but he checked himself, and well it was for him that he did so.

"He's got neither knife nor spear," Seymour said, "so he cannot be very dangerous."

"Umph!" Silas snorted, "I wouldn't trust the brute out of sight. I guess we'll have to keep a tight hand over him, or he'll be settin' a hull crowd of his pards on our trail in a brace of shakes."

"Gehari!"

The harsh, guttural cry came from the wolf-man's throat, and he beat his breast with his clenched hand.

"Gehari!" he repeated, fixing his piercing eyes on Seymour's face.

"What's he jawing about?" asked Silas.

"Ayuti again," replied the baronet. "However came these brutes to speak that language?"

"I reckon it don't matter a heap," retorted the Yankee, "so's we can turn it to our advantage."

"Gehari!" For the third time the word broke upon the ears of the two friends.

"What the plague does he mean by his eternal 'gehari'?" asked Haverly.

"It must be his name," was the reply, "but it isn't exactly a classy title. The word means 'the wily one.'"

"Jupiter!" cried Haverly with a grin, "that kind of gives the show away. I guess he can't grumble the handle don't fit him, for he's got 'wily' writ large all over him. Say, couldn't you get no news of our pards off the fellow?"

Turning, Seymour put a few brief questions to the wolf-man.

"What's he say?" asked Silas as he finished.

"He professes to know nothing of two white prisoners, but he says that all captives are sacrificed to the sacred beast of his people in the temple of Ramouni."

"Then tell him to lead on to this yer temple, quick as he knows how," the Yankee snapped, "if he wants to keep his skin entire."

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