The Prince of Mars Returns
Philip Francis Nowlan (1940)
Country of origin: U.S.A.
Available texts by the same author here
Chapter 3: The Birrok
Night came. A new tent was erected for my use. And when at last I tired of the glory of the two Martian moons which swung low and swiftly across the scintillating heavens, and Lil-rin had given me a curiously, speculative smile of adieu. I went inside and threw myself on the pile of soft skins and silks that evidently was intended as my couch. Almost at once, I slept.The days passed swiftly. Little by little I learned their language. It was hard pulling it off at first, but I had always had a certain facility with strange tongues—I learned something, too, of Martian life and history.
Mornya, Lil-rin's father, was Myar-Lur, supreme chief of the Ur, a clan of a race which, like the Cossacks on Earth, was somewhat nomadic in its inclinations, and jealously guarded its tribal traditions. Mornya with his seven Myars, or sub-chiefs, was at present in the service of the Northern Cities.
For five successive years the clan had contracted with the Northern Cities to guard the Desert Gap in the Quartz Mountains and the approaches to it.
The work of the clan had consisted chiefly in keeping the territory south of the Gap clear of the "dulyals," or yellow apes, beasts of almost human intelligence. These dulyals, I gathered, possessed a higher order of mentality than any of their counterparts on Earth.
They were tailless, walked erect, but had prehensile feet. They were covered with a golden brown fur, and though larger and more muscular than Martian men, were more human than apelike in build. They were omnivorous, hunted in packs, had a rudimentary language, and fashioned crude clubs and spears.
Yet, they were distinctly not human, Lil-rin informed me.
"After two or three generations of captivity," she said, "they make excellent slaves. Unless they taste blood, they can be trusted invariably to be loyal to their masters. They bring higher prices in the slave markets because they are stronger and more docile, than men that is, the domesticated ones are more docile. About two-thirds of the city populations are dulyal slaves.
"You know," Lil-rin looked up at me slyly, "the reason I tried to shoot you that day in the forest was because I thought you were a dulyal!"
We were sitting on an outcropping of rock, a great scintillating quartz boulder, gazing down a gentle slope toward the "canal". There was speculation, and it seemed to me, a bit of suspicion in Lil-rin's steady gaze.
"Why do you look at me that way, Lil-rin?" I asked. "Because I have dark hair, unlike your people?"
I thought perhaps she had not heard me, for she did not answer at once. For several moments she mused.
"Danan-lih, you are like no living man on this world!" she finally blurted out. Then, just as suddenly, she was all solicitude.
"I am sorry, I had no right to say such a thing. The ancient custom forbids anything that would make a guest feel uncomfortable. My offense is unpardonable."
That was my cue. "No it isn't, Lil-rin," I protested. "You and your people have been so kind to me that explanation is the least—"
"No, no!" she cried, jumping up and putting her hands over her ears. "I won't listen. You mustn't tell me anything. It wouldn't—"
A weird, shrill, wailing cry somewhere down the slope in front of us interrupted her. I'm not easily startled, but for an instant I felt a chill shoot up my spine. Lil-rin stood in an instant, rigid, motionless, staring pale and wide-eyed in the direction whence the sound had come.
"It's a birrok," she gasped, tugging at the quiver in which she carried her bolt-hurting tubes. "Run, Danan-lih, run! You can't fight it without bolts, and even then, you have to get it with the first shot, or—"
Then I saw the thing. It was a gigantic yellow-green spider. Its legs were fully twelve feet long. Suddenly, it straightened them and the furry body, which had been resting close to the ground, rose as though on stilts. Clearly, the thing sensed our presence and was looking for us.
Instantly, those legs began to move with amazing rapidity. The body seemed to swoop down and glide swiftly toward us with an easy, undulating swing. It would be upon us in a moment. Instinctively, I drew my automatic.
"Quick, Danan-lih! Run!" said Lil-rin, sharply, and stepped between me and the poisonous monster, her tube leveled.
There was a whir and a clang. The bolt shot true toward its mark. But, with unbelievable agility, the great spider leaped forward. Lil-rin uttered a little cry of despair, and threw herself in front of me. I squeezed the trigger of my gun. The shots blended into a roar as a succession of stabbing flashes leaped from the muzzle, for I emptied the whole magazine at the thing. As before, the beast leaped sharply to one side, but not quickly enough. The long legs crumpled up, and after one or two convulsive movements the thing lay still. At that, I believe it had dodged all but the first bullet.