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Larra’s search for Amy began before the
light of dawn. The earlier she
started the better. Even seconds
could be the difference between finding her friend alive or finding her
dead.
Grey was a marvelous tracker. If
Larra had not known better she would have sworn that he was actually following
the scent of his prey, but she knew that was
impossible.
They made good time and as they walked Grey explained something about the
cultures of the strange world Larra had blundered
into.
“There are two main groups near the edge of the
Lost World, which is what I call
this region. One is the
Ansmara, whom you have already
met. They are a tribe of
white-skinned primitive cannibals.
They have little technology and their society is
rudimentary. The other are the
Ullabomba, a civilization of black-skinned
people. They are quite advanced
culturally and technically, although they lack
explosives. They are the dominant
group in the Lost World. For
centuries the Ansmara and the Ullabomba have waged war on one
another. The Ansmara eat any
of the Ullabomba they capture and the Ullabomba enslave their Ansmara
captives. Gradually, the Ullabomba
have extended their territory into the domains of the Ansmara and have created
a flourishing civilization.
Eventually, the Ansmara will probably be completely eradicated or
completely enslaved, which amounts to the same thing.”
“Interesting,” commented Larra.
“These two peoples are exactly the reverse of what has happened
in my world. Do the two groups
intermarry?”
“The Ansmara regard all strangers as
food. And the Ullabomba use the
attractive Ansmara women they capture only as sex
slaves. Any children are still
regarded as slaves even if they have only a little bit of Ansmara
blood.”
Larra did not comment further, but she was struck by how sad it was that
the blacks of the Lost World had the same prejudices and attitudes that the
whites of her world had.
Grey interrupted her train of thought.
“There is something up ahead.
It might be Klein or it might be something
else. It is best to proceed
cautiously.”
Grey and Larra crept silently down the trail, keeping low and making use
of the heavy forest cover that bordered the
path. The smell of smoke came
to their nostrils, and then the smell of cooking
fires.
Whomever was in front of them was in the
middle of cooking breakfast.
Grey held up his hand. He had
sensed something or someone who might be a
danger. Even more slowly Grey
and Larra approached the camp.
Parting the vegetation before them they spotted an Ullabomba sentry,
and beyond him the outskirts of a camp swarming with dozens of armed
warriors. They were directly
in the path that Grey and Larra wanted to
travel.
Grey backed away from the camp, Larra
following. Once they were out
of earshot the apeman spoke.
“We have a problem. We
can go around the camp, but it may be difficult for us to pick up Klein’s
trail on the other side. The
Ullabomba are camped directly on it.”
“What are they doing here?” asked Larra.
“They are probably a raiding party sent against the
Ansmara. I estimate that there
are over a hundred of them. We
could attack them and try to drive them off, but that would mean killing
some of them and I see no need to cause them any
harm.”
“What are we to do then? My
companions could be in great
danger.”
“I can use the trees to scout ahead and see if I can pick up the
trail. If I leave you here in
a safe place I could come back for you if I find
it. I could also take you with
me, but that would slow me down a little.”
“I’ll stay here,” volunteered Larra
immediately. “It is best
if you pick up the trail as quickly as possible.”
“Alright, I’ll leave you to find a safe
place. You appear to be someone
who can look after herself.”
Larra smiled. Grey had just paid
her a compliment. Then with a
quick bound, he was gone, leaping into the trees and vanishing almost
immediately.
Larra looked around for a safe place to
hide. She might be waiting for
quite some time before Grey managed to pick up the trail and
return. The tree that Grey had
scaled looked like a good bet.
Thick vines wound about the trunk of the tree and offered a safe way
to the top. Within a few seconds
she was halfway up the trunk. As
she climbed she noticed a rather interesting fuzzy caterpillar on the leaves
next to her. Without thinking
Larra reached out to stroke the insect.
An incredible stabbing pain shot through her
hand. It was pain so severe that
she could not stifle a cry, but the agony did not stop, instead it traveled
up her arm all the way to her shoulder.
A wave of nausea swept through her body and her head began to
spin. Almost without knowing
it, she lost her grip and tumbled to the forest
floor. Then everything went
black.
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