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Science Fiction Collector, v. 2, issue 6, May 1937
Page 6
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[Illustration] stowaway in the rocket made John Hartwell forget the nearby Venus' atmosphere coming at the rocket with tremendous speed. He had tried using the retarding rockets, but he was too late. In a last, bare hope that he might save his little daughter, he had cuddled her up into his arms and strapped himself into the acceleration hammock--all to no avail, for the crash was too great, and the rocket's thick hull was broken open, the impact throwing hammock and all over the side of the canyon to land a hundred feet below. John Hartwell had died, but his daughter had been saved from harm by his quick thinking, for his arms absorbed the shock sufficiently. As little Janice slowly descended into the canyon, her childish habits enticed her to stop along the path and play. Frequently she would roll one of the numerous small boulders over the side of the path to go tumbling down, taking with it as it went other and smaller stones. The clatter it made amused her child's fancy. Farther on down, Janice came upon a little tuft of fur moving slowly at her feet. Stooping, she picked it up, then dropped it when it wriggled around in her hand. Grasping it again, she quickly thrust it into the pocket of her small sailor suit. At last the trail ended, near a little rippling stream bordered by small bushes covered with purple berries. Sitting down by the side of the water, she began to pluck the berries and to put them into her mouth. The little girl's chubby face turned downward, and the bright eyes slyly watched the little bunch of fur crawl laboriously over the side of her pocket, then down across her lap, and onto the velvety moss-covered ground. Seized with a sudden idea, she recaptured the moving body. It must be a little animal, she thot, for she had had a pet kitten on Earth, and this alien creature was soft and fluffy too, just like Earth's feline pets. After making sure the little animal was unable to escape again, she went on eating berries, and mused over what her new pet's name should be. Because of its extreme smallness, for it was only about an inch in diameter, she decided to call him Tiny. * * * * * Tiny's name fitted him no longer, for his great, towering form stood almost as high as a horse on Earth. His form somewhat resembled a large kitten's, for although his body was slim and strong like a tiger's, his shaggy mane and soft, thick, long fur made his appearance suggest that of an extremely overgrown baby cat. Upon his back sat Janice Hartwell, now grown into a young woman of eighteen. Clothing, painstakingly made from soft skins, enwrapped her strong form. A long, thin spear hung at her side, ready for instant use against frequently-encountered beasts and creatures of the valley. The girl's soft voice spoke.
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[Illustration] stowaway in the rocket made John Hartwell forget the nearby Venus' atmosphere coming at the rocket with tremendous speed. He had tried using the retarding rockets, but he was too late. In a last, bare hope that he might save his little daughter, he had cuddled her up into his arms and strapped himself into the acceleration hammock--all to no avail, for the crash was too great, and the rocket's thick hull was broken open, the impact throwing hammock and all over the side of the canyon to land a hundred feet below. John Hartwell had died, but his daughter had been saved from harm by his quick thinking, for his arms absorbed the shock sufficiently. As little Janice slowly descended into the canyon, her childish habits enticed her to stop along the path and play. Frequently she would roll one of the numerous small boulders over the side of the path to go tumbling down, taking with it as it went other and smaller stones. The clatter it made amused her child's fancy. Farther on down, Janice came upon a little tuft of fur moving slowly at her feet. Stooping, she picked it up, then dropped it when it wriggled around in her hand. Grasping it again, she quickly thrust it into the pocket of her small sailor suit. At last the trail ended, near a little rippling stream bordered by small bushes covered with purple berries. Sitting down by the side of the water, she began to pluck the berries and to put them into her mouth. The little girl's chubby face turned downward, and the bright eyes slyly watched the little bunch of fur crawl laboriously over the side of her pocket, then down across her lap, and onto the velvety moss-covered ground. Seized with a sudden idea, she recaptured the moving body. It must be a little animal, she thot, for she had had a pet kitten on Earth, and this alien creature was soft and fluffy too, just like Earth's feline pets. After making sure the little animal was unable to escape again, she went on eating berries, and mused over what her new pet's name should be. Because of its extreme smallness, for it was only about an inch in diameter, she decided to call him Tiny. * * * * * Tiny's name fitted him no longer, for his great, towering form stood almost as high as a horse on Earth. His form somewhat resembled a large kitten's, for although his body was slim and strong like a tiger's, his shaggy mane and soft, thick, long fur made his appearance suggest that of an extremely overgrown baby cat. Upon his back sat Janice Hartwell, now grown into a young woman of eighteen. Clothing, painstakingly made from soft skins, enwrapped her strong form. A long, thin spear hung at her side, ready for instant use against frequently-encountered beasts and creatures of the valley. The girl's soft voice spoke.
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