Greene, L. Patrick - Servant of the Beast

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2024-12-15 0 0 249.6KB 22 页 5.9玖币
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SERVANT OF THE BEAST
By L. PATRICK GREENE
Four men and a girl face the Beast Peril of the Death Worshippers—deep in
the cradle land of civilization
Complete Tropic Adventure Novel
HE man lay full length on a ledge of
rock overhanging the swift-flowing
river. He seemed to be alone in a
desolate waste of stony kopjies—ridge
after ridge of them in endless
profusion. The hot rays of the African
sun beat down fiercely upon the man, but, though
the rock felt red hot to the touch, he did not
change his position and rarely shifted his gaze
from the scene below him.
A large python lay coiled up on a nearby
rock. Even in repose the huge reptile suggested a
brutal strength. Its eyes, drowsily opening, shone
black with evil malice—cold and cruel. The man
and the snake had much in common—the same
basilisk glance, the hidden menace and cunning.
A klipspringer, that small buck of the
Mashona hill country, was browsing close by,
unconscious of the lurking perils.
Once the man put out his hand to take up his
rifle, then shook his head in indecision.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “I’ll wait a little
longer.”
Of a sudden his muscles tensed and his eyes
contracted to pin-points. The buck moved
uneasily, and the python stirred fitfully in its
sleep. It was as if the evil intention of the man had
been, by some strange telepathy, conveyed to the
mind of the timid klipspringer, as if the snake
recognized the presence of a kindred spirit.
From out of the labyrinth of rocks and
toward the river there walked a man.
Through the sights of his rifle the human on
the rock watched. His finger gently caressed the
trigger.
When the newcomer had reached the river he
stooped to drink.
Shifting his aim to the buck, the man on the
rock fired. The animal sprang high into the air
and, falling, toppled down the rocks almost to the
river’s brink.
He fired again, and the man in the river
L. Patrick Greene Servant of the Beast Action Novels, April, 1930
2
stumbled in his stride; his hands outstretched
before him as if seeking purchase on the air. For a
moment he swayed backward and forward, then
fell headlong into the river and was carried away
by the swift current.
The man on the rock smiled grimly, then
clambering down the rock to where the buck had
fallen, he slung it over his back and, whistling a
cheerful tune, hastened in the direction of the
camp.
* * *
As the sound of the rifle shots reached the
camp, a girl sprang up joyfully.
“Dad!” she cried. “Dick’s made a kill.
“We’ll soon have some broth made that will
make a new man of you.”
The man on the roughly constructed cot
smiled. His flowing beard and long white hair
gave him a patriarchal appearance; his deep-set
blue eyes were the eyes of a dreamer.
“You’re a hard-hearted nurse, Dorothy,” he
said. “I ought to be helping the others. I know that
we are getting near our goal.”
The girl’s face clouded.
“I wish you’d give up the search, Daddy,”
she sighed. “It seems that we’ve had nothing but
bad luck lately. First of all the native carriers
desert with most of our provisions, then you come
down with fever and—”
“The fever has gone now,” the sick man
interrupted, “and as for the carriers deserting,
Jan’s a host in himself.”
At the sound of his name a tall, mightily-
muscled native came toward them.
“You called, baas?”
“No. Your name was used in speech.”
“Jan, what do you think of this search?” the
girl asked.
He grinned and opened his hands with a
gesture of resignation.
“Shall I question the baas’ will? I am well
content. Why does Missy ask?”
“It does not matter.”
Jan returned to his place by the fire.
The girl was silent for a while, then, looking
steadily at her father, she said:
“I don’t think Jan trusts Burgess, and I—”
“Don’t be silly.” The sick man hesitated a
moment. “Yesterday,” he continued presently,
“Burgess told me that he loved you and asked me
to use my influence.”
“And what did you say?” The question came
quickly.
“I told him that I would do what I could. I
wish you would marry him, Dorothy—He’s rich
and can take care of you properly. Besides, if this
search should turn out to be a wild-goose chase—
not that I think for a moment it will—I owe him a
lot of money.”
“I know,” she answered soberly, “and Dick’s
poor.”
A gay whistle sounded.
“What luck?” she cried as the man who had
been on the rock came into view.
“Only a klipspringer.”
He handed the buck to Jan.
“Only one?” There was a hint of raillery in
the girl’s voice. “We heard two shots. You don’t
usually miss your aim.”
“I didn’t this time,” he said with a smile.
“There’s the klipspringer.”
He turned to help Jan with the task of
cleaning and skinning the buck, and the girl sat
down on a nearby boulder to watch them.
OON their task was finished and big pieces of
meat were put before the fire to roast. From a
pot came the fragrant, appetizing odor of buck
stew.
“I wonder where Dick is? He said he’d be
back by noon, and it’s long past that now.” The
girl’s tone was anxious.
“Where did he go?” Burgess’ tones were
almost too casual.
“Up among the hills over there.” Dorothy
pointed across the river. “I think he intends to
climb every kopje in the country hoping to find
the valley. I’m beginning to think we’ll never find
it. What do you think?”
Burgess laughed shortly.
“Do you want my candid opinion?”
She nodded.
“Well, I think your father is a gullible fool.
Just because one of his patients, an old prospector,
tells him about a mysterious valley where there
are diamonds to be had for the taking, your father
chucks up his practise and comes up to this God-
forsaken spot—looking for ‘the Mysterious
S
L. Patrick Greene Servant of the Beast Action Novels, April, 1930
3
Valley.’ Bah! Why even if it existed, what chance
would we have of finding it? The vaguest of
directions, no map—nothing but the babblings of
a delirious old man.”
The girl sighed.
“I know. It does sound hopeless. But Daddy
and Dick feel sure that there’s something in it—
you forget that Old Tom had a large diamond
which he claimed came from the valley. But if
you thought the search was a hopeless one, why
did you encourage Daddy by lending him money?
Why did you come yourself?”
“Can you ask that?” he asked softly. “It was
to be near you.”
“Scoff’s ready, Missy.”
She jumped up gleefully at Jan’s call, and
Burgess followed her, looking angrily at the
grinning native.
“I’m anxious about Dick,” Dorothy said
when, the meal finished, there was still no sign of
the fourth member of their party.
“There’s no need to be worried,” Burgess
replied lightly. “What can happen? He’s big
enough to take care of himself.”
“I know, but—”
She rose to her feet with an air of
determination.
“Perhaps he’s found the valley,” Burgess
laughed.
She ignored the sarcasm.
“Are you all right, Daddy? I’m going to look
for Dick.”
“Be careful, dear. Better take Jan with you.
Yes, I’m all right.”
Jan came eagerly forward.
“Yes, I go, Missy. We go down to the ford
and pick up the spoor where he crossed the river.”
Burgess watched them hasten down to the
banks of the stream, assailed by a sudden doubt,
then, with a shrug of his shoulder, he ran after
them, coming up with them just as they had
crossed the ford.
“Here is Baas Dick’s spoor,” said Jan., “It
points toward the hills. Missy had better stay here.
Baas Burgess and I will follow the spoor.”
He started on the trail at a slow lope, but was
quickly halted by a hail from Burgess.
“Here the trail leads back, Jan,” he cried.
Jan returned to Burgess’ side.
“Yes,” he said. “It is the homeward spoor.”
Jan followed it to the river, which he crossed
and searched for a continuation of the trail on the
other side.
Soon Jan returned with a woeful, puzzled
expression on his face.
“What is it, Jan?” Dorothy asked
breathlessly.
Jan shook his head slowly.
“Baas Dick came to the river, but there is no
spoor on the other side.”
“Then he came back to this side?”
“No, Missy. The spoor does not say that.”
“Perhaps he came out on the other side,
either above or below the ford.”
“No. He could not do that. Only at the ford
can a man cross. Above and below the water runs
deep.”
“What does it mean?” Dorothy appealed to
Burgess. “Where is Dick?”
“It means that Dick will never come back.”
Burgess’ tone was correctly mournful. “He must
have stumbled, lost his footing and was carried
away by the swift current. He’d have no chance
against it, and even if he managed to swim to the
bank, how could he get a foothold?”
Burgess pointed to the rocks which rose
sheer out of the water on each side of the river.
Clever actor though he was, Burgess could
not totally disguise his feeling of elation.
“I believe you’re glad,” the girl flashed
suddenly. “But I can’t believe it’s true.”
Jan shook his head mournfully.
“Without doubt the baas speaks true, Missy.”
“Yes,” Burgess continued. Again the note of
elation crept into his voice. “Now we can
persuade your father to give up this fool search,
Dorothy. You accused me of being glad that
Harding had gone. I’ll be frank—in a sense I am
glad. He didn’t like me and I didn’t like him. You
know that and you know why.”
Dorothy began to cry quietly, and a sly,
satisfied smile flickered over Burgess’ face,
“Take care of Missy, Jan,” he said. “I’m
going back to tell the old baas.”
“It is an order, baas.”
Jan’s tone was meek, but his eyes flashed
anger as he watched the white man ford the
stream and vanish up the trail which led to the
camp.
“Missy,” he said as soon as Burgess had
L. Patrick Greene Servant of the Beast Action Novels, April, 1930
4
passed out of sight, “Baas Burgess speaks freely,
yet he hides much in his heart.”
Dorothy looked up hopefully.
“You mean there is hope for Baas Dick?”
“Not that, Missy, but without doubt Baas
Burgess knows how Baas Dick died.”
“You mean, Jan, that he killed Baas Dick?”
“I no say that, Missy. Perhaps yes. We go
down to where the water make big jump.” Jan
pointed down stream. The dull thunder of falling
water sounded clearly on the still air. “Perhaps the
spirits will tell us things.”
CHAPTER II
TWO BULLET HOLES
HEY had not gone far along the precipitous
bank of the river when Jan pointed excitedly
to an object caught on a ledge of rock which
protruded out of the river directly below them,
close to the bank.
“What’s that, Missy?”
Dorothy’s gaze followed the pointing finger.
“It’s Baas Dick’s helmet, Jan,” she said
excitedly.
“Jan will get it, Missy.”
He took the long rope which he habitually
carried and made fast one end to a stunted tree
standing back a few yards from the bank. Then,
hand over hand, he lowered himself to the water.
Soon Jan came to the end of the rope and
Dorothy heard him utter an exclamation of
disgust.
“Tchat!”
She peered cautiously over the brink.
“What is it, Jan?”
“The rope’s too short, Missy. But wait—”
Jan lowered himself still farther until his
hands were gripping the last inch of the rope.
Hanging so his feet barely reached the ledge of
rock and, by careful maneuvering he managed to
get the helmet firmly between his feet. Then,
hanging by one hand, he doubled up and, taking
the helmet from between his feet, placed it firmly
on his head.
He grinned assurance and a moment later
scrambled over the top and lay gasping on the
ground.
Quickly recovering, he sat up to find Dorothy
staring at him wide-eyed.
“Look!” she cried excitedly, and taking the
helmet from him pointed to the two small holes
which punctured the crown. “You were right, Jan.
Baas Burgess killed Baas Dick.”
Jan took the helmet from her and examined it
closely.
“I think, Missy, the bullet did not kill Baas
Dick,” he said. “Look.” He put the helmet on his
head and pointed to the location of the holes.
“Baas Dick’s head is bigger than mine, helmet not
go so far down. Perhaps bullet only hurt him a
very little.”
“Then do you think—?”
“Have you found something interesting?”
They turned quickly at the sneering voice of
Burgess, who had come up unobserved, so
absorbed were they in their discovery.
Dorothy held the helmet toward him.
“We heard you fire twice,” she said, pointing
accusingly to the holes in the helmet, “and you
didn’t miss your shot.”
He shifted uneasily before her direct gaze.
“What do you mean?” The air of lightness
was forced.
“That you shot Dick.”
He saw that evasion was useless, but his only
feeling was one of annoyance. It meant a
changing of his plans. But he had nothing to
fear—from the girl, or the old man, her father.
“Yes, I shot him and now there’s nothing
stands between us. You can’t prove anything
and—”
“Do you call this nothing?” There was a
world of hate and scorn in her voice as she
pointed to the hat—the mute evidence of a cold-
blooded murder.
Laughing, he made a move toward her, but
she lightly evaded him, and before he could take
another step he was seized from behind by two
powerful hands.
High above his head Jan held the kicking,
cursing Burgess.
“Shall I throw him down, Missy, down into
the water?”
“No!” she said breathlessly. “We can’t do
that. Put him down. I must think this out.”
“Better let me kill him, Missy,” Jan muttered
T
L. Patrick Greene Servant of the Beast Action Novels, April, 1930
5
as he obeyed her commands.
“Take away his gun, Jan, and tie him fast.”
Jan gleefully performed the task, nor was he
very gentle as he trussed up the cursing man. With
a small rope which he took from Burgess’ belt he
tied the white man’s hands to the trunk of a tree.
His legs he tied to another. In that position
Burgess was helpless.
“I will stop his mouth, too, Missy; his talk is
evil.” And Jan deftly inserted a gag in the white
man’s mouth.
“I don’t know what to do with him, Jan!” she
cried.
“Help! Help!”
The voice sounded faint and seemed to come
from the ground under their feet.
“It’s Dick,” cried Dorothy.
She leaned far over the cliff, scanning the
water below.
“Dick!” she called. “Where are you?”
As she spoke there was a movement in the
reeds growing close to the cliff directly beneath
her. As she watched, a man emerged from them
and climbed on the ledge of rock from which Jan
had rescued the helmet.
He pointed to the rope which still hung down
the cliff.
“I can’t reach it,” he shouted. “Send Jan back
to the camp for more rope.”
But Jan shook his head.
“It’s too far to camp, Missy. Baas Dick
perhaps he get sick and fall off rock. I make rope
longer.”
Jan untied the rope from the tree and looped
it securely around his wrists, then leaned far over
the cliff. With the additional length thus gained it
was possible for Harding to pass it around his
body.
“All ready, Baas?” Jan cried.
Again a wave of the hand.
“Then the Baas will hold the rope with his
hand and try to walk up the rock. Now.”
Jan exerted his enormous strength. Inch by
inch he moved from the edge of the cliff, and the
man below ascended slowly but surely.
In a very little while Harding’s white face
appeared over the top of the rock.
“Hullo, Dorothy,” he said with a smile, then
fainted.
All thought of Burgess now forgotten, Jan
picked up the unconscious man and started back
for the camp.
At the ford they stopped long enough for
Dorothy to bathe and bandage the wound that
creased Dick’s forehead. He stirred fitfully under
her ministrations, but it was not until they had
carried him to the camp and had given him a
generous dose of whisky that he fully recovered.
He looked at the anxious faces which
surrounded him.
“Feel all right now, Dick?” Dorothy asked.
“Head throbs a bit—but that’s nothing.”
He chuckled at a sudden thought.
“The Baas has a story to tell,” said Jan.
“Yes, Dick, what is it? We had given you up
for lost. Lucky for you the bullet wasn’t an inch
lower.”
Dick made a wry face.
“It’s bad enough, Doc, but if it hadn’t been
for that I wouldn’t have found—”
Crompton looked up excitedly.
“You’ve found it, Dick” he cried. “You’ve
found the valley?”
“Sit down, Daddy. You’ll bring on your fever
again.”
“Bosh! Nothing can give me fever now.”
“Well, then, think of Dick.”
Crompton sobered instantly.
“Sorry, Dick,” he said, sitting down, “but I
felt I must let off steam or burst. How’s your
head?”
“Head’s all right now, Doc. I don’t blame
you for being excited. I shall bust myself if I don’t
tell you.”
“Then where is it?”
“Tell us from the beginning, Dick,”
interposed Dorothy.
“When I came to the ford on my way back to
camp,” began Dick, “I was pretty much tuckered
out and stopped to have a drink of water. Directly
after, I heard a shot and, looking up, saw a buck
falling down the rocks. Then came another shot
and a pain went through my head. All went black
before my eyes, I became dizzy and fell into the
river.
“The plunge cleared my brain and I tried to
head for one of the banks, but the current was too
strong. Then I was aware of the fact that the
current was slacking. There was an abrupt turn in
the river, and I was on the outside of the curve.
摘要：

1SERVANTOFTHEBEASTByL.PATRICKGREENEFourmenandagirlfacetheBeastPeriloftheDeathWorshippers—deepinthecradlelandofcivilizationCompleteTropicAdventureNovelHEmanlayfulllengthonaledgeofrockoverhangingtheswift-flowingriver.Heseemedtobealoneinadesolatewasteofstonykopjies—ridgeafterridgeoftheminendlessprofusi...

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