The Moon Pool A. Merritt (pdf ebook reader .txt) đ
- Author: A. Merritt
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âNowhere to go but out!â grinned Larry. âAnd Iâll bet Golden Eyes is waiting for us with a taxi!â He stepped forward. We followed, slipping, sliding along the glassy surface; and I, for one, had a lively apprehension of what our fate would be should that enormous mass rise before we had emerged! We reached the end; crept out of the narrow triangle that was its exit.
We stood upon a wide ledge carpeted with a thick yellow moss. I looked behindâ âand clutched OâKeefeâs arm. The door through which we had come had vanished! There was only a precipice of pale rock, on whose surfaces great patches of the amber moss hung; around whose base our ledge ran, and whose summits, if summits it had, were hidden, like the luminous cliffs, in the radiance above us.
âNowhere to go but aheadâ âand Golden Eyes hasnât kept her date!â laughed OâKeefeâ âbut somewhat grimly.
We walked a few yards along the ledge and, rounding a corner, faced the end of one of the slender bridges. From this vantage point the oddly shaped vehicles were plain, and we could see they were, indeed, like the shell of the nautilus and elfinly beautiful. Their drivers sat high upon the forward whorl. Their bodies were piled high with cushions, upon which lay women half-swathed in gay silken webs. From the pavilioned gardens smaller channels of glistening green ran into the broad way, much as automobile runways do on Earth; and in and out of them flashed the fairy shells.
There came a shout from one. Its occupants had glimpsed us. They pointed; others stopped and stared; one shell turned and sped up a runwayâ âand quickly over the other side of the bridge came a score of men. They were dwarfedâ ânone of them more than five feet high, prodigiously broad of shoulder, clearly enormously powerful.
âTrolde!â muttered Olaf, stepping beside OâKeefe, pistol swinging free in his hand.
But at the middle of the bridge the leader stopped, waved back his men, and came toward us alone, palms outstretched in the immemorial, universal gesture of truce. He paused, scanning us with manifest wonder; we returned the scrutiny with interest. The dwarfâs face was as white as Olafâsâ âfar whiter than those of the other three of us; the features clean-cut and noble, almost classical; the wide set eyes of a curious greenish grey and the black hair curling over his head like that on some old Greek statue.
Dwarfed though he was, there was no suggestion of deformity about him. The gigantic shoulders were covered with a loose green tunic that looked like fine linen. It was caught in at the waist by a broad girdle studded with what seemed to be amazonites. In it was thrust a long curved poniard resembling the Malaysian kris. His legs were swathed in the same green cloth as the upper garment. His feet were sandalled.
My gaze returned to his face, and in it I found something subtly disturbing; an expression of half-malicious gaiety that underlay the wholly prepossessing features like a vague threat; a mocking deviltry that hinted at entire callousness to suffering or sorrow; something of the spirit that was vaguely alien and disquieting.
He spokeâ âand, to my surprise, enough of the words were familiar to enable me clearly to catch the meaning of the whole. They were Polynesian, the Polynesian of the Samoans which is its most ancient form, but in some indefinable wayâ âarchaic. Later I was to know that the tongue bore the same relation to the Polynesian of today as does not that of Chaucer, but of the Venerable Bede, to modern English. Nor was this to be so astonishing, when with the knowledge came the certainty that it was from it the language we call Polynesian sprang.
âFrom whence do you come, strangersâ âand how found you your way here?â said the green dwarf.
I waved my hand toward the cliff behind us. His eyes narrowed incredulously; he glanced at its drop, upon which even a mountain goat could not have made its way, and laughed.
âWe came through the rock,â I answered his thought. âAnd we come in peace,â I added.
âAnd may peace walk with you,â he said half-derisivelyâ ââif the Shining One wills it!â
He considered us again.
âShow me, strangers, where you came through the rock,â he commanded. We led the way to where we had emerged from the well of the stairway.
âIt was here,â I said, tapping the cliff.
âBut I see no opening,â he said suavely.
âIt closed behind us,â I answered; and then, for the first time, realized how incredible the explanation sounded. The derisive gleam passed through his eyes again. But he drew his poniard and gravely sounded the rock.
âYou give a strange turn to our speech,â he said. âIt sounds strangely, indeedâ âas strange as your answers.â He looked at us quizzically. âI wonder where you learned it! Well, all that you can explain to the Afyo Maie.â His head bowed and his arms swept out in a wide salaam. âBe pleased to come with me!â he ended abruptly.
âIn peace?â I asked.
âIn peace,â he repliedâ âthen slowlyâ ââwith me at least.â
âOh, come on, Doc!â cried Larry. âAs long as weâre here letâs see the sights. Allons mon vieux!â he called gaily to the green dwarf. The latter, understanding the spirit, if not the words, looked at OâKeefe with a twinkle of approval; turned then to the great Norseman and scanned him with admiration; reached out and squeezed one of the immense biceps.
âLugur will welcome you, at least,â he murmured as though to himself. He stood aside and waved a hand courteously, inviting us to pass. We crossed. At the base of the span one of the elfin shells was waiting.
Beyond, scores had gathered, their occupants evidently discussing us in much excitement. The green dwarf waved us to the piles
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