Ds184 python isle doc, p.17
DS184_Python_Isle.doc, page 17
Moments passed …
Then the woman ceased her incessant mumbling. Her orbs, however, remained glassy and fixed.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIII - The Invisible Wrath
Doc produced a gold coin from a pocket and set it spinning on the tip of one finger. At the same time, he spoke to the old crone in a calm, soothing tone. His strange eye s were peaceful, lulling pools of
golden flakes.
Hundreds of eyes were focused on him at that moment. His aides -- some distance away -- also watched fascinated.
Tom Franklin broke his moody silence.
"What's he doing, anyway?"
"Doc is hypnotizing that old woman," Renny vouchsafed. "He must know what's wrong with her."
Tom Franklin relayed this to Queen Lha. The latter raced to the Bronze Man's side to watch more closely.
Intent upon his work, Doc Savage paid her no heed. The coin whirled and his resonant voice gave forth words in ancient Hebrew. He was a master hypnotist, having learned the art from its true experts --
the Yogi holy men of India.
As Queen Lha watched, the old woman's eyes slowly lost their dull listless quality.
Doc
Sobbing uncontrollably, Queen Lha embraced Hagai who responded with a flood of words.
Doc Savage withdrew to the side of his assistants.
"The old woman," he said, "had been hypnotized in some fashion and given a root which contains a natural narcotic to chew on. The combination of the narcotic and the spell kept her in a more-or-less drugged state -- the so-called 'Invisible Wrath'. It was a comparatively simple matter to counteract the narcotic and break the hypnotic spell. But let us hope that these people think it is more than that."
Whatever the reaction of the populace might have been was never learned.
Because at that moment, hawk-faced Taxus -- enraged at the Bronze Man's conquest of his Invisible Wrath malady -- screamed forth a stream of imprecations mixed with orders.
The archers snapped to attention with their bows directed at Doc Savage, his men, and even Queen Lha.
Monk and Renny -- the 2 scrappiest of Doc's aides -- went for their supermachine pistols instantly.
"Monk! Renny!" Doc Savage rapped, his voice harsh. "Our bulletproof vests might protect us. But Franklin and Lha are not immune to arrows."
All of Doc's men wore chain-mail undergarments of the Bronze Man's devising.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIII - The Invisible Wrath
Monk and Renny let their hands drop sheepishly. Ham gripped his sword-cane. Tom Franklin made mallets of hands.
Several archers -- unarmed -- approached. One swept Queen Lha roughly into the palace. She struggle a little, but not much.
Hagai promptly melted into the sea of humanity ringing the pit.
"Doc!" Monk whispered. "What are we gonna do?"
"Nothing as yet. We are effectively boxed. Taxus has ordered us deprived of our weapons now that the people seem to be on his side. Do not resist. We may yet see our way out of this predicament."
The archers executed an almost-perfect modern frisking of Doc Savage and the others. Their machine-pistols were collected along with the contents of their pockets and Doc's equipment vest.
Dapper Ham Brooks groaned shamelessly when his sword-cane was confiscated.
Monk and Renny looked pained. They plainly wanted to fight. But nonetheless respected their bronze Leader's wishes.
At the spear points of guards fresh from the palace, the captives were marched past the empty python pit and into the royal building itself.
They had a momentary glimpse of a tapestry-hung throne room before they were taken down one wing of the palace. There, under Taxus' order, Tom Franklin was separated from the others. Wary, Taxus his distance.
They were led through a stone passage into what appeared to be a storage room. It was a dry airless space dimly lighted by huge jars filled with olive oil. Cloth wicks were stoppered in the necks of the vessels. Shadows puddle everywhere.
His face unhappy in the murk, Renny Renwick rumbled: "I wonder what the local bastille is like."
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They quickly found out.
One of the spear-carrying guards stooped and lifted a heavy wooden trapdoor. He signaled for the prisoners to climb down into the hold.
Doc Savage stepped to the edge … found only a cistern-like pit … and addressed his men.
"It is empty. No snakes. We will do as they direct. They want us alive for the python pit."
He then dropped into the well, landing easily on his feet with his springy legs absorbing the impact.
Monk Mayfair followed suit, looking absurdly like a jungle gorilla jumping from a tree.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIII - The Invisible Wrath
Then Ham Brooks.
Renny Renwick came last, his big frame landing awkwardly. He upset and boomed: "Holy cow!"
The trapdoor (it was about 15 feet above their heads) slammed shut. It was gloomy in the well-like pit. But not altogether dark. The trapdoor was carved into a grill and some pale light spilled down.
That wasn't all that spilled down, they soon discovered.
There was a small aperture at one end of the ceiling several feet from the trapdoor. It too was covered by a wooden grille, this one exceedingly fine. Tiny particles began to fall from this second grille.
Monk happened to be under this precipitation and had twice brushed at his rusty nubbin of a head muttering about "bugs" before he realized it was not insects that were annoying him.
"For the love of mud!" he exploded. "It's rainin' in this doggone calaboose! Hey, what is stuff anyway?"
He applied the tip of his tongue to a handful of particles. He spat violently and proclaimed:
"Sand! Ordinary beach sand!
Monk sounded -- for some reason -- astonished by the discovery.
"This doesn't make any sense," Ham fretted loudly. "Why would they pour sand down on our heads?"
The answer became apparent not long after.
The sand whispered down slowly but steadily. It formed a small mound on the cistern floor which grew, shifted, and spread.
It was extremely fine stuff. Consequently, the air became filled with a salty dust. It crept into their mouths which they quickly discovered were better kept shut. It worked into their nostrils. Renny sneezed. The noise was like a goose honking!
"The air is getting…" Ham started to say.
But his words got lost in the coughing fit which seized him when he took in some of the dust through his wide orator's mouth.
"Serves you right for opening your mouth, ambulance chaser!" Monk sneered.
His words came out very fast and had a nasal quality because he was holding his nose shut.
Doc Savage tore his shirt into long strips and wordlessly passed one to each of his men. He placed one of the strips over his mouth and nose. It made breathing less painful. Monk, Ham, and Renny did likewise.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIII - The Invisible Wrath
Doc spoke through the improvised filter.
"This business with the sand is obviously to keep us off balance during our incarceration. Breathing will be difficult. And sleep next to impossible."
"That means bustin' outta this joint anytime soon is gonna be some feat," Monk growled.
"They must have some kind of contraption up there -- like a bin and coal-chute arrangement -- for feeding the sand through that grille," hazarded Renny who had an eye for anything that smacked of the engineering trade.
"Wait a minute!" Ham put in. "This island doesn't have a beach. Where is the sand coming from?"
"Probably it is dredged up from the ocean and stored here for use in construction," Doc Savage guessed. "But that is not important now. Observe how rapidly this cistern is filling. We will have to constantly smooth down the sand to stay on top of it or we will most certainly be buried by morning."
The sand had now spread to most of the pit floor. They fell to flattening it out. But the work was tedious, owing to the fact that they needed to keep one hand free to hold their face protectors in place.
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Several unpleasant hours passed in this fashion.
By that time, the dust had gotten all over their skin, hair, and clothing. Even Doc Savage resembled a powdered ghost.
The stuff continued to hiss down. They were now sitting on almost 6 inches of sand. To stand was to sink into the fine granules. The trapdoor above remained hopelessly out of reach.
"I wonder how Queen Lha is doing?" Ham asked suddenly of no one in particular.
"And that Franklin," Monk inserted. "He sure started actin' strange once everybody got uncaptured.
Almost as if he didn't want us to come to this place. I don't trust him."
"You're just jealous because he monopolized the girl," Renny snorted.
"Oh yeah, Big Fists!" Monk argued. "Then you explain …"
He shut up abruptly.
Above, someone began to fiddle with the aperture that fed the sand into the pit. It loosened.
"Wonder who that could be," Renny asked uneasily.
The grille came free and disappeared. A Niagara of choking sand gushed down like salt from a shaker after the cap is removed.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIII - The Invisible Wrath
Ham -- who was nearest -- was buried waist-deep in the sudden deluge. Monk pulled him free (not gently!) by the hair.
"Holy cow!" Renny boomed. "What's going on? I thought they wanted us alive!"
It was evident to all that at the rate the grains were coming down, they would all be buried or suffocated in a very short time.
A face then appeared at the trapdoor grille, indistinct because it intercepted the light coming from behind it.
"Savage!" a voice jeered. "You should thank me for this. It's quicker than the snakes. But you'll be just as dead when it's over with."
The head vanished from the grille.
They couldn't make out the marauder's features. But his voice was unmistakable.
"Blackbird Hinton!" Monk croaked. " He's on this island!"
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIV - Death and Taxes
XIV -- Death and Taxus
After being separated from Doc Savage and his men, Tom Franklin was taken to a chamber, bound, and left to his own thoughts.
The chamber was a model of sumptuous barbarity. Deep purple rugs covered the tiled floor. The walls were hung with tapestries, many of them decorated with python motifs. Oil0jar lamps served to both illuminate and heat the room. A draft came in through a doorway which boasted no door, only a heavy curtain for privacy.
Franklin had been unceremoniously thrown onto a couch. But he knew that he had been accorded better treatment than Doc Savage's group. This was because he had occupied a position of some rank as a confidant of Queen Lha during the days before Taxus had stolen the throne.
Tom Franklin had no doubt that at least one guard stood outside his chamber. But that not deter him from working on his bonds which were tough and woven from some type of jungle vine until it had near the strength of steel cable. The red-haired aviator came to realize this after spending a fruitless hour struggling against the hardy strands.
He was covered with sweat by the time he gave up that tack. He stood up. His feet had not been bound. There seemed to be no reason to immobilize him completely while a guard was posted.
Franklin walked over to one of the big oil jars. He turned so that his hands (which were tied behind his back) hung above the burning wick.
He set his teeth and bent his knees. Flame seared a thumb and he shot a foot into the air! He did not yell. But his lips leaked crimson strings where he had bitten them.
He tried again. This time, he scorched the edge of a palm. He did not react. Instead, he used the pain as a guide and got his wrists over the flame. This proved to be the most agonizing part.
Franklin felt his wrists burn. He even smelled the stink of charring flesh but could not tell if his bonds had caught or if he were needlessly injuring himself. Tears streamed down his tanned features.
He groaned inwardly but nonetheless held his ground.
The bonds parted finally, shedding sparks. Tom Franklin held up his wrists. They were lobster-red and blisters were already forming. The damage did not appear to be serious.
But the pain was, however. The battered flyer slapped down onto the couch and let the waves of anguish course through his nervous system before he attempted any further movement. Sobs racked his lank frame.
The fit subsided. Tom Franklin found his feet and crept to the curtain hanging over the doorway.
He set an ear to the heavy fabric and caught the soft treading of a lone guard. The latter seemed to have a sinus condition. His breathing was a noise whistling.
At times, the redheaded scrapper heard a bump, scrape! of a sound, indicating that the guard bore a long spear. Its shaft dragged when the guard walked and thudded when he rested it.
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIV - Death and Taxes
Franklin kept a close eye on the moving shadow that the light threw onto the curtain. He sucked on his burned wrists while he waited.
When the guard passed directly before the curtain, Franklin pounced!
The guard had a momentary impression of a soft heavy animal descending upon him. He struck out instinctively with his spear. But the sharpened copper point ripped through the heavy cloth and got tangled up.
Hard bone-like appendages lurked under the soft material and struck rapidfire! The guard went down unconscious before he realized that it was his prisoner -- Tom Franklin -- who had jumped him, bearing the door hanging along.
Franklin scrambled up frantically. There was no other guard, he was relieved to find. The passage was the one he recognized. He went to the nearest curtain which denoted a chamber beyond.
Within, he found Queen Lha. She was not bound. But nevertheless subdued in spirit to show that Taxus thought it unnecessary to further restrain the beautiful erstwhile ruler.
She came out of her depression and raced to the redhead's side. They exchanged low words in ancient Hebrew.
"We'll have to make a break for it while it's still dark," Franklin breathed.
He took her by the arm and hurried along the murky passage. After several twisting turns, it led past the darkened throne room and onto the wide low steps of the palace.
There were 2 guards in evidence. Franklin motioned to the black-haired Lha to remain in the shadows. He padded forward -- a long angular shadow in what was now evening.
The first guard went down under a clubbed fist. Franklin caught his long spear before it clattered to the stone steps.
The other guard turned, suddenly acquiring a long axis through his midsection. He fell backward, the head of the spear which impaled him catching against a step. His body slid slowly down the length of the shaft, turning it crimson in the moonlight. He never made a sound.
Tom Franklin waved Lha ahead.
She halted abruptly, her sloe eyes wide.
"What about Doc Savage and his men?" she questioned excitedly. "We should try to set them free."
Franklin pulled her along roughly.
"Lot of good they did us. They can all rot in Taxus' pits for all I care!"
"But," Queen Lha protested, "They are our only hope!"
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Doc Savage: #184- "Python Isle"
XIV - Death and Taxes
"Not if we can get to Savage's bird," Franklin said grimly. "Listen to me, Lha. I have a plane. If we can carry enough gold from the treasure house to the plane, we can escape and hire someone who can really defeat Taxus. It's the only way."
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A voice -- harsh and gritting -- jumped out of the sepia night at them.
"Well well. I think we've lucked onto something interesting, mates."
It was the voice of Blackbird Hinton.
Tom Franklin and Queen Lha skidded to a stop.
Several ominous figures bared their way. Foremost among them was the raven-black form of Blackbird Hinton, the hard-bitten skipper of the tramp Mighty. He had his ebony pistol pointed squarely at Tom Franklin's belt buckle.
Behind him loomed hulking Bull Pizano with a baseball bat in one beefy paw. Dandified King Hancock -- unarmed -- lurked nearby, his sharp eyes watchful.
Blackbird laughed nastily.
"Didn't think we were on this snake-haunted rock did you, bucko?"
Tom Franklin made painful fists and said a grim nothing.
"Da joke's on youse," Bull Pizano sneered. "We wuz here all along. Beat dat bronze guy's time and hid out plane where it couldn't be seen."
"That's right," Blackbird cut in. "We made a deal with that egg you told us about -- Taxus. Lucky thing he learned some English from you all that time you were stuck on this island, huh? Lucky for us, that is. Anyway, when Savage led you in like lambs to slaughter, we decided to lie low for a while."
