They traveled as fast as they could, and when tired they hid in some cave or secret nook. From Moawha the three Americans learned that the country she called Taunan was not very large, the population consisting of about one hundred and fifty thousand men, women and children. Her country, the Land of the Selinites, was much larger, and had a population of three million. It extended from a space on the south, which was open, and had never been explored, to another open space on the northeast. It had perpetual light but Moawha did not know where the light came from, and had never heard of the sun. Both open spaces on the south and northeast she said, were guarded by cricket armies under the direction of the Taunans.

When Moawha made this explanation Epworth jumped to the conclusion that he had solved a problem that bothered the earth astronomers.

“Her country,” he explained to his companions, “is a long narrow stretch of land, about the size of Mexico, stretching from Mount Leibnitz at the south pole to Mount Tycho. The sun shines all the time on Leibnitz, and I conclude, through a hole in the moon entirely across the Land of the Selinites, and out of Mount Tycho, which gives that Mountain its mysterious bright light. If I understand her correctly the light does not come in a straight line from the sun, and they do not see the sun because the edge of the crater of Leibnitz hides it from view. The Taunans, however, are so located that they can see the sun and much of our world.”

“Fair enough,” Billy put in. “Now let’s get somewhere.”

As he spoke they were crossing a long bridge made of heavy stones which spanned a deep chasm. At the beginning of their journey across the Taunan country they had encircled many cities and had been forced to avoid many groups of men and women but now they were going through a country that was greatly broken by splits in the earth—all of which were bridged with strong, substantial masonry that exhibited great masonic skill on the part of the pigmies. This section of the country was not as populous as the fertile and alluvial fields of natural vegetation and luscious fruit, and the further they advanced toward what Moawha termed the borderland, the rougher the country became.

In response to Billy’s suggestion they increased their speed, relaxed their vigilance, and were halfway across the structure talking in loud voices when they heard a shout behind them. Curiously they whirled around. The light was so strong that they had little difficulty in making out the forms of a hundred or more pigmies rushing on the bridge behind them.

“Say, Julian,” Billy announced whimsically, “I haven’t any business on this bridge—none whatever.”

He started on a run for the end of the bridge and the others joined him. They did not go far. In front of them bobbed up another small army of pigmies, and from the side of the structure another horde of enemies sprang into life out of the shadows that had obscured them.

“An ambush as sure as life,” Epworth exclaimed.

“And we cannot jump off of the bridge without jumping into a chasm that goes down probably for forty miles,” Joan added. “What shall we do?”

“Fight!” Billy responded, making a dive at the nearest line of pigmies. “Give them all we have.”

Epworth swung his strong arms into action and sent four of the pigmies head over heels. Joan drew her automatic and whacked one in the face; four pigmies caught Moawha, and she screamed. Billy answered the cry for help by knocking the four pigmies down.

It annoyed them to think that up to this time they had eluded the inhabitants and had grown so careless as to permit discovery and an ambush.

With an angry snarl Epworth clenched his teeth and drove straight into the spears, dropped to a stooped position, caught two pigmy soldiers by their legs, whirled them around his head, and clubbed them back. Then the pigmies closed in on them like a bed of ants, caught them by their legs, arms, and waists and began to pull them down.

But at this moment, when capture seemed certain, the Taunans suddenly released them, sent up a shrill shout of terror, leaped to their feet, and fled as if possessed. Taking advantage of this Epworth staggered to his feet with Billy by his side, and looked around to ascertain what had caused the flight of their enemies. What they saw caused them to stop in horror and Moawha to scream in wild terror.

“A ramph! a ramph!” she cried. “Run!”

She pointed with staring eyes at the side of the bridge on the north. Along the edge of the structure, with its head lifted above the railing and its long, lizard-like body stretched in scaly coils two hundred feet, was the most terrifying monster they had ever seen. It had ten legs, and elongated tail, and its movements were as swift as thought, silent as death and terrifying; and its three eyes, as large as saucers, glared vicious red at them in a head fifteen feet wide. But it was not altogether the appearance of the animal that frightened them.

In its deep, cavern-like mouth, glowing a phosphorescent light, was a shouting pigmy, crying loudly for help.

“Mercy,” Joan cried, “that is the kind of an animal we fought in the cave.”

“They live in the darkest parts of the caves,” Moawha gasped, “and never come out unless they come to eat people.”

Epworth did not wait for a technical description of the Thing that was as big as four elephants. He had brought his Police Positive pistol with him from the glider, and a tear gun. The tear gun being packed away for future emergency was hard to get but he jerked his police gun, and began to fire, aiming with certainty and firing slowly.

The first shot struck the center eye of the monster. The eye flicked out, and the Thing paused in its efforts to swallow the pigmy. Again Epworth’s pistol rang out. This time the bullet crashed into the right eye. The long, slender tail began to lash the bridge until it knocked some of the stones from position and sent them into the chasm. Again Epworth fired. The last eye was destroyed.

With a wheezing, siren-snarl the monster dropped the pigmy, lowered its head and began to wave it around in the air. That it was now blind was patent, and Epworth pushed his companions back several feet. The giant body began to fold up, coil, and roll forward like a rolling snake; its mighty paws went up into the air, and the front right paw started downward. Directly beneath the paw the little pigmy that it had held in its mouth stumbled and fell. If the paw came down it would certainly crush the pigmy into a mass.

Swift as an eagle, without counting his own danger, Epworth bounded forward, caught the pigmy’s clothing and jerked him backward. He was just in time. The paw descending struck slightly on the pigmy’s face and drew the blood.

But the animal now knew not which way to turn. For several seconds it floundered around, opened and closed its enormous mouth, and wheezed until the listeners felt their blood run cold. Finally, still wheezing it twisted off the bridge and plunged down into the chasm.

Epworth released the pigmy, and placed him on his feet. Frightened into a frenzy the little man sped away.

“Seems to be in a hurry,” Billy observed dryly.

“I can’t blame him,” Joan snorted. “I have a hasty mind myself. Suppose we travel.”

They gained the end of the bridge but the pigmies in their rear, regaining their courage, followed. Like wild men they ran to get away but Moawha was too slow and Epworth lifted her in his arms. She was heavy for a pigmy but Epworth managed to keep ahead of his pursuers. Just ahead of them appeared a long line of trees. If they could get into the forest there was a chance of them eluding the little men with their spears.

With thankful hearts they darted under the trees, and dashed pantingly into the forest. Their thankfulness came to an end quickly. The moment they were beneath the trees an army of pigmies dropped out of the branches on their heads, their shoulders, their legs, and before they had time to resist they were pulled to the ground, and their hands tied behind their backs.