The Scorpia Menace (2 page)

Then they were within the heart of the torrent, the shock of the descending water in its drenching cascade blotting out the sunlight, the roar of the fall drumming in their ears and making them momentarily deaf. But Hero kept on placing his feet with great deliberation and precision and a few seconds later brilliant sunlight dazzled their eyes. Then they were through, The Phantom wiping his streaming eyes, Hero shaking his head impatiently to clear the droplets. Steam rose in shimmering clouds from man and horse as the heat of the sun smote them like a sword-stroke. Hero splashed through another shallow pool and then they were on firm ground, safe within a secret valley, known only to The Phantom and a few jungle folk, including the Bandar pygmy tribe.

Around them towered tall cliffs, clothed with densely- packed vegetation. Within this narrow and fertile valley

The Phantom had his headquarters and carried on his implacable war against crime and injustice wherever it reared its head. Presently, Hero and The Phantom had passed up the valley and the great white horse quickened its steps as it sensed they were nearing home. The sun had already long dried them when they came in sight of one of the most amazing sights of the Bangalla Jungle, itself an incredible place.

Here were the Deep Woods, The Phantom's secret home, where he planned his ceaseless war against organized crime and the only place where he was able to relax his ceaseless vigilance. So he let the reins slacken on Hero's neck as they drew near to home and allowed himself to day-dream a little of a dark-haired girl who was now many thousands of miles away.

Hero's hoofs clattered across rock, striking sparks from the unyielding surface, startling The Phantom from his brief reverie. Across the rocky valley was the familiar clearing. Set in the cliff-face opposite and brightly delineated in the sunshine loomed a massive formation which gave The Phantom his feared motif and which he had seen a hundred times before on returning from long and perilous journeys.

From the cliff-face, created by the natural formation of the tumbled stone, stared the representation of a massive skull. The skull itself was all of eighty feet high. Two large caves in the crumbling cliff above made gigantic eye-sockets; below, a fall of rock in some earlier time had left a ruined gash which looked uncannily like the remains of the nose; the gigantic entrance below, black within, slashed with bars of sunlight without, made an enormous, open mouth. The cave entrance was all of thirty feet high and Hero's hoofs echoed eerily beneath the roof as he clattered into the tunnel, The Phantom swinging to dismount as they gained the interior.

The rough stone walls twisted for some distance and then broadened out into a great chamber. Torches burned flicker- ingly in wall sockets, casting a strange, uneven light over the surface of the cave interior. The Phantom rapidly unsaddled Hero and set him out to forage. As the stallion's hoofbeats died away beyond the arch of the tunnel The Phantom sank with satisfaction onto a great pile of skins at one side of the chamber. Here, where a natural formation of the floor had assumed the semblance of a couch, he made his bed.

He unbuckled his pistol-belt and stretched his legs in their black riding boots. The flickering torches left the far side of the cave in shadow. The Phantom grunted. He went over to his saddle bags and busied himself with the provisions they contained. He crossed to the far side and blew the ashes of the fire in the rough stone hearth into flame. For the next half-hour he was engrossed in preparing his midday meal.

When it was ready he carried the platters to his couch of skins and sat. He ate with satisfaction, his thoughts far away from his primitive surroundings. He was still sitting there lost in contemplation when he became aware of a faint, furtive footstep in the tunnel outside.

"Come in, Guran," The Phantom called in a loud, amused voice. The footsteps stopped, as though the owner of the feet which had made them was frightened. Then they came on again, less hesitantly this time. A diminutive figure eased forward into the fitful light of the torches. The torch-flicker glinted on small, yellow eyes as the tiny brown man bowed in deference to The Phantom who, sprawled on his couch of skins, regarded him with an amused smile,

"Welcome, O Ghost Who Walks," said Guran in the dialect of the Bengalla Jungle tribes. "I trust you have had a fruitful and auspicious journey."

"Fruitful, yes," said The Phantom. Humor glinted in his eyes.

"Auspicious, perhaps. I settled two tax disputes and prevented a minor war between the border tribes. Now, I am a little tired and will rest a day or two."

"Perhaps you will join us in hunting?" said Guran.

The little man's face was alight with pleasure as he came forward and stood in the glow given out by the fire.

"Perhaps," said The Phantom smiling. "I really have not yet decided my program. But hunting is a possibility."

There was a suspcion of a smile on the little brown man's face also. Looking at the diminutive form of the chief of the pygmies, clad only in a loin cloth and with his wrinkled feet and tattered straw headgear, The Phantom felt the strange contrast between this mild little man and his fearsome reputation. For the Bandar, with their poison weapons, were among the most feared of the jungle tribes and their activities in the Deep Woods were among the things which helped to keep The Phantom's domains inviolate while he was away from home.

There was a whimpering cry in the tunnel, and the grey form of Devil the mountain wolf and The Phantom's special pet bounded forward in greeting. Guran scuttled to one side of the cave as The Phantom, grinning, fondled Devil's ears. The big wolf's yellow eyes glowed as though with inward fires, and his red tongue lolled over his white, razor- sharp teeth as his master continued his affectionate scratching.

"Has he been good while I've been gone?" The Phantom asked, smiling again as Guran continued to cower, his anxious eyes never leaving the wolf's form.

"Truly, I do not know, O Ghost Who Walks," the pygmy chief answered. "The grey one has his own ways and beware the pygmy who interferes with his arrangements."

The Phantom's laugh echoed through the chamber. He fondled Devil again and then got up. Devil padded at his heels and Guran followed behind as he walked to the cave entrance. Here, to one side of the massive grotto, was The Phantom's lofty throne, where he sat to receive homage from the jungle folk. The big man settled himself in the great carved stone chair and gazed pensively out across the valley. It was already late afternoon and the sun was declining behind the distant trees.

Devil went to sit alongside The Phantom on one of the steps of the massive stone plinth which supported the throne and Guran squatted at the foot of the steps. His brown face, as always, was expressionless, as he gazed fixedly at The Phantom. There was silence among the group for a long time. Once Devil gave a stifled yawn, but the only other sound which broke the silence was the sighing of the wind in the treetops.

The little man was the first to stir. He cleared his throat apologetically and scratched his left foot with the big toe of the right.

"Your thoughts are not with us here in the forest, O Great One," he said gently.

The Phantom dropped his hand to fondle Devil's ears

again as the big wolf huddled in closer to the foot of the throne. He smiled as he glanced at Guran.

"You are right, Guran," he said pensively. "My thoughts are many thousands of miles away."

The pygmy chief shifted his position on the hard stone of the steps.

"Would the Great One think it impertinent if Guran were to guess the reason?" he asked.

The Phantom's eyes were sparkling with humor, as he replied.

"It would not, O Great Chief of the Bandar," he said gravely, in his turn.

Guran cleared his throat once more and lifted his gaze to the rim of the distant trees, which were now stained gold with the dying sun.

"I guess, O Ghost Who Walks, that you dream of the fair Diana," he said diffidently. There was a long pause between the two men. Devil shook his head and looked expectantly at the big man seated on the throne as though he understood the conversation.

The Phantom nodded his head.

"Well," he said slowly. "You have a point there, Guran. I must confess my mind has been far away the last day or so. On a long ride one has time to think."

The little man blinked. His eyes glowed with pleasure at the correctness of his suppositions.

He stretched his cramped limbs gratefully as The Phantom got up. Devil stretched too and walked behind as The Phantom strolled down the rocky path leading from Skull Cave with Guran.

The pygmy shot a sidelong glance at The Phantom as he said, "Have you ever thought of marriage?"

The Phantom smiled wistfully. His face was stained scarlet with the sunset and his eyes gleamed behind the mask.

"Constantly, Guran," he said.

He looked round the wild and savage landscape in which they walked.

"But how? To bring a modern girl here to live in a cave? It would be impossible."

Guran made a little shrugging movement of his shoulders, accompanying it at the same time with an expressive wave of his hand and wrist.

"Maybe she thinks differently," he said simply. "Did you ever ask her?"

The Phantom frowned. Then his big face broke up in a slow smile.

"You'd better stick to your witch-doctoring, Guran," he said. "You're far better at it than trying to act as a marriage counsellor."

Guran smiled shyly. He went to sit on the trunk of a fallen tree at the side of the track. The Phantom settled by his side as Devil went foraging in the undergrowth. He bounded away after some small animal.

Both men were silent again for a while. The Phantom's mind was heavy with thoughts about Diana. Guran was right. She was the ideal companion for him. Diana Palmer. He and Diana had been friends since childhood when, as Kit Walker, he had been educated in the United States. But it was not until their time at Harrison U. that they had fallen in love.

Diana was a beautiful, dark-haired girl who excelled in all forms of sports. She was proficient at riding and tennis and had hundreds of hours as a pilot. Swimming was a particular specialty and she had won a Gold Medal for diving at the Olympic Games.

He remembered her, poised in her swimsuit at the tip of the diving board; and in his arms as they danced at the Junior Prom before they had fallen in love. All his earliest dreams were intertwined with those of Diana. There had been an emptiness in his life since stern duty brought him back to the Bangalla Jungle to carry on the work entrusted to him by his father.

He and Diana had written often, of course, but symbols on a piece of paper were a pale substitute for the reality of warm, living flesh and the vital personality that made Diana unique among women. He remembered too, the black night when Guran had come for him, to tell him his father was dying. It meant that he and Diana had to part, peremptorily and agonizingly, with only one brief talk and a hurried explanation. It all seemed a long time ago and so much had happened since.

The Phantom's strong face had softened with remembered emotion as he sat on the fallen log, Guran silent at his side. Devil came back suddenly, growling excitedly and rummaging in the bushes. The spell was abruptly broken.

"You will think about it, O Great One?" said Guran encouragingly.

The Phantom stirred and turned to face the little chief of the ltanda.

"I'll think about it," he promised.

"It may well come to pass," Guran said.

The Phantom's eyes were again fixed on the farthest jungle trees whose tips were still colored by the dying light of llic sun.

"Who knows, Guran, who knows?" he replied.

CHAPTER

2

OLYMPIC CHAMPION

Eleven thousand miles away in Westchester, U.S.A., a tall dark-haired girl was walking along the sidewalk, a bundle of books under her arm. The air was full of the perfume of flowers and the green of the chestnut trees made a rich backing to the trim, shaven lawns that stretched down to the boulevard on either side. But the girl was oblivious to all of these things or to the greetings of the young men who passed her at intervals on the sidewalk.