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Bizarre, v. 4, issue 1, Janurary 1941
Page 13
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January 1941 Page 13 BOK Her hands were cold . . . cold Sri answered: "There is a way . . . at the head of Nanbu. I will take him. . . ." I asked: "Is it past the Lake of the Ghosts, Little Man?" "Yes." "That is good. I go into a country where the clothes I wear would be hardly fitting, Sri. Laugh with me at such a thought—but after all, if my heart is dead, my body has its claim. And my feet need covering. . . ." Ai . . . Evalie! Ai . . . Lur! Ai . . . Jim! . . . my feet need covering! I rode from the Temple with the pygmy on my saddle, and Dara riding beside me. By now, the drums of the Little People were in Karak. They were calling: "Eva—ah—lee! . . . Ev—ah—lee! . . . Eva—ah—lee!" I said: "Sound your drum, Sri. Tell them that Evalie is dead. That Lur is dead. That Dwayanu is dead. That the Gate of Khalk'ru is closed for ever. Let there be no more killing." Sri said: "I will tell them." He began to beat the talking drum. At the first strokes the nearer drums were silent and swiftly that silence swept onward until all were still When he had ended there was a clamor of the drums, questioning, incredulous, agonized. Briefly Sri answered. Again the silence fell. it was broken by a slow and mournful beating of the drums in Karak, like a vast and heartbroken sobbing. The drums tolled for Evalie, lying dead back there in the temple of the Kraken with the Witch-woman and her wolf. They were muted when we emerged from the forest into the road, but the heavy air throbbed with their requiem and its rhythm set the pace of my heart. We went swiftly. It was mid-afternoon when we reached the Lake of the Ghosts. The drawbridge was down. There was no one in the garrison. I searched, and found my roll of clothes. I stripped the finery of Dwayanu from me. I took a battle-ax, thrust a short sword in my belt, picked javelins. They would help me win through after I had got out of the mirage—but I did not much care. I did not go up into the chamber of the Witch-woman. I heard the whispering of the waterfall—and I did not dare to look upon it. All the rest of the afternoon we galloped along the white river's bank. The tolling drums followed us. By nightfall we had come to the cliffs at the far end of the valley. Here Nanbu poured forth in a mighty torrent from some subterranean source, and here we camped for the night. Continued on page 21
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January 1941 Page 13 BOK Her hands were cold . . . cold Sri answered: "There is a way . . . at the head of Nanbu. I will take him. . . ." I asked: "Is it past the Lake of the Ghosts, Little Man?" "Yes." "That is good. I go into a country where the clothes I wear would be hardly fitting, Sri. Laugh with me at such a thought—but after all, if my heart is dead, my body has its claim. And my feet need covering. . . ." Ai . . . Evalie! Ai . . . Lur! Ai . . . Jim! . . . my feet need covering! I rode from the Temple with the pygmy on my saddle, and Dara riding beside me. By now, the drums of the Little People were in Karak. They were calling: "Eva—ah—lee! . . . Ev—ah—lee! . . . Eva—ah—lee!" I said: "Sound your drum, Sri. Tell them that Evalie is dead. That Lur is dead. That Dwayanu is dead. That the Gate of Khalk'ru is closed for ever. Let there be no more killing." Sri said: "I will tell them." He began to beat the talking drum. At the first strokes the nearer drums were silent and swiftly that silence swept onward until all were still When he had ended there was a clamor of the drums, questioning, incredulous, agonized. Briefly Sri answered. Again the silence fell. it was broken by a slow and mournful beating of the drums in Karak, like a vast and heartbroken sobbing. The drums tolled for Evalie, lying dead back there in the temple of the Kraken with the Witch-woman and her wolf. They were muted when we emerged from the forest into the road, but the heavy air throbbed with their requiem and its rhythm set the pace of my heart. We went swiftly. It was mid-afternoon when we reached the Lake of the Ghosts. The drawbridge was down. There was no one in the garrison. I searched, and found my roll of clothes. I stripped the finery of Dwayanu from me. I took a battle-ax, thrust a short sword in my belt, picked javelins. They would help me win through after I had got out of the mirage—but I did not much care. I did not go up into the chamber of the Witch-woman. I heard the whispering of the waterfall—and I did not dare to look upon it. All the rest of the afternoon we galloped along the white river's bank. The tolling drums followed us. By nightfall we had come to the cliffs at the far end of the valley. Here Nanbu poured forth in a mighty torrent from some subterranean source, and here we camped for the night. Continued on page 21
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