Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 331: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

322 upon his back and beating his four great limbs convulsively towards the sky. Lumps of his scaly skin were scat- tered about on the granite as feathers scatter from a shot bird. His nails clat- tered as they swept an overhanging mass of granite in one of their aimless gyrations. Finally there was one last angry flurry of legs and tail, and he rolled back upon his belly; his horny eyelids closed; his head sank wearily upon his forearms. As I turned to tell Gwen I kicked a stone beside me. It fell with a metal- lic clang, and in a moment the green eyes were open and staring at me. He lifted his head, and his huge limbs began to shove his carcass back towards me. There was a revengeful glare in those baleful eyes, and I popped back into the cleft like a rabbit into his burrow. I heard him come dragging along above. Then, looking up, I saw the thin snout just overlap the edge and lie still. Evidently he was settling down to his sentinelshiup. Afraid of another dose of the biting pain we had inflicted, he did not dare to venture his head again into our cave. He meant to starve us out. Gwen looked up hopefully as I re- turned, but I had to shake my head at ker glance of inquiry. “No good just at present, I’m afraid. He’s like the hosts of Midian —prowling and prowling around.” “ Well, I suppose it can’t be helped. But I do wish we'd had something a litthe more nutritious than mustard, useful as it’s been. I’m simply starv- ing. It’s more than lunch time by half an hour.” “That can be arranged,” said I air- ily. “ Dll nip up the other side of the ship and get aboard. I can get hold of plenty of stuff in the pantry.” “As if I should allow it for a mo- ment. I forbid it absolutely,’ and she brought her little foot with a stamp upon the rock floor. THE ARGOSY. [ still edged towards the cave mouth, explaining that the danger was prac- tically nil, though well did I know the contrary. Still a man can’t sit still to watch a particularly sweet woman starve, even if he has to risk a bit to bring her victual. “I cannot stand the ignominy of starvation,’ I assured her, “not to mention the discomfort.” She came towards me with her eyes so sweetly appealing that I felt sick with temptation. “If you go,” she said almost tear- fully—there really was a humid look in her blue eyes— I shall simply die of fright. I won’t be left alone.” I hesitated and was lost. She put her hand upon my sleeve, and looked up searchingly into my face. “ Please, please, please, don’t go. I really am very frightened.” Goodness knows what I should have done next. Probably taken her in my arms and sworn neither to leave her then nor ever again, regardless of Den- varre or any question of mere honor. But fate took matters out of my hand. CHAPTER XX. A DESPERATE BETROTHAL. THE brute above us gave a hic- cough; I believe he meant it for a sneeze, but as a minor explosion of sorts it might have held up its head with cordite cartridges or an oil motor car. Gwen, whose nerves were, as you may imagine, a trifle beyond control by now, gave a cry and fled into my arms, which opened of themselves to receive her. And so for a minute we stood silent and listening, while my pulses rioted within me. After a moment or two we were aware that the fetid odor of the great Beast was being overpowered by a re- sistless smell of sulphur. This was doubtless giving our friend a sore throat, and titillating his nostrils. I GOH GOOO CO