Darkness and Dawn

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE PULVERITE

  An hour passed. And now, under the circle of light cast by thehooded lamp upon the table, there in that bare, wrecked office-home oftheirs, the Pulverite was coming to its birth.

  Already at the bottom of the metal dish lay a thin yellow cloud,something that looked like London fog on a December morning. There,covered with the water, it gently swirled and curdled, with strangemetallic glints and oily sheens, as Beatrice with a gold spoon stirredit at the engineer's command.

  From moment to moment he dropped in a minute quantity of glycerin, outof a glass test-tube, graduated to the hundredth of an ounce. Keenly,under the lamp-shine, he watched the final reaction; his face, verypale and set, reflected a little of the mental stress that bound him.

  Along the table-edge before him, limp in its sling, his wounded armlay useless. Yet with his left hand he controlled the sleeping giantin the dish. And as he dropped the glycerin, he counted.

  "Ten, eleven, twelve--fifteen, sixteen--twenty! Now! Now pour thewater off, quick! _Quick!_"

  Splendidly the girl obeyed. The water ran, foaming strangely, out intoa glass jar set to receive it. Her hands trembled not, nor did shehesitate. Only, a line formed between her brows; and her breath,half-held, came quickly through her lips.

  "_Stop!_"

  His voice rang like a shot.

  "Now, decant it through this funnel, into the vials!"

  Again, using both hands for steadiness, she did his bidding.

  And one by one as she filled the little flasks of chained death, theengineer stoppered them with his left hand.

  When the last was done, Stern drew a tremendous sigh, and dashed thesweat from his forehead with a gesture of victory.

  Into the residue in the dish he poured a little nitric acid.

  "_That's_ got no kick left in it, now, anyhow," said he relieved. "TheHNO3 tames it, quick enough. But the bottles--take care--don't tip oneover, as you love your life!"

  He stood up, slowly, and for a moment remained there, his face in theshadow of the lamp-shade, holding to the table-edge for support, withhis left hand.

  At him the girl looked.

  "And now," she began, "now--?"

  The question had no time for completion. For even as she spoke, aswift little something flicked through the window, behind them.

  It struck the opposite wall with a sharp _crack!_ then fell slitheringto the floor.

  Outside, against the building, they heard another and another littleshock; and all at once a second missile darted through the air.

  This hit the lamp. Stern grabbed the shade and steadied it. Beatricestooped and snatched up the thing from where it lay beside the table.

  Only one glance Stern gave at it, as she held it up. A long reed stemhe saw wrapped at its base with cotton fibers--a fish-bone point,firm-lashed--and on that point a dull red stain, a blotch of somethingdry and shiny.

  "Blow-gun darts!" cried he. "Poisoned! They've seen the light--got ourrange! They're up there in the tree-tops--shooting at us!"

  With one puff, the light was gone. By the wrist he seized Beatrice. Hedragged her toward the front wall, off to one side, out of range.

  "The flasks of Pulverite! Suppose a dart should hit one?" exclaimedthe girl.

  "That's so! Wait here--I'll get them!"

  But she was there beside him as, in the thick dark, he cautiously feltfor the deadly things and found them with a hand that _dared not_tremble. And though here, there, the little venom-stings whis-s-shedover them and past them, to shatter on the rear wall, she helped himbear the vials, all nine of them, to a place of safety in theleft-hand front corner where by no possibility could they be struck.

  Together then, quietly as wraiths, they stole into the next room; andthere, from a window not as yet attacked, they spied out at the darktree-tops that lay in dense masses almost brushing the walls.

  "See? See there?" whispered Stern in the girl's ear. He pointed where,not ten yards away and below, a blacker shadow seemed to move along ahemlock branch. Forgotten now, his wounds. Forgotten his loss ofblood, his fever and his weakness. The sight of that creeping stealthyattack nerved him with new vigor. And, even as the girl looked, Sterndrew his revolver.

  Speaking no further word, he laid the ugly barrel firm across thesill.

  Carefully he sighted, as best he could in that gloom lit only by thestars. Coldly as though at a target-shot, he brought the muzzle-sightto bear on that deep, crawling shadow.

  Then suddenly a spurt of fire split the night. The crackling reportechoed away. And with a bubbling scream, the shadow loosened from thelimb, as a ripe fruit loosens.

  Vaguely they saw it fall, whirl, strike a branch, slide off, anddisappear.

  All at once a pattering rain of darts flickered around them. Sternfelt one strike his fur jacket and bounce off. Another grazed thegirl's head. But to their work they stood, and flinched not.

  Now her revolver was speaking, in antiphony with his; and from thebranches, two, three, five, eight, ten of the ape-things fell.

  "Give it to 'em!" shouted the engineer, as though he had a regimentbehind him. "_Give_ it to 'em!" And again he pulled the trigger.

  The revolver was empty.

  With a cry he threw it down, and, running to where the shotgun stood,snatched it up. He scooped into his pocket a handful of shells fromthe box where they were stored; and as he darted back to the window,he cocked both hammers.

  "Poom! _Poom!_"

  The deep baying of the revolver roared out in twin jets of flame.

  Stern broke the gun and jacked in two more shells.

  Again he fired.

  "Good Heaven! How many of 'em _are_ there in the trees?" shouted he.

  "Try the Pulverite!" cried Beatrice. "Maybe you might hit a branch!"

  Stern flung down the gun. To the corner where the vials were standinghe ran.

  Up he caught one--he dared not take two lest they should by someaccident strike together.

  "Here--here, now, take _this!_" he bellowed.

  And from the window, aiming at a pine that stood seventy-five feetaway--a pine whose branches seemed to hang thick with the Horde'sblowgun-men--he slung it with all the strength of his uninjured arm.

  Into the gloom it vanished, the little meteorite of latent death, ofpotential horror and destruction.

  "If it hits 'em, they'll think we _are_ gods, after all, what?" criedthe engineer, peering eagerly. But for a moment, nothing happened.

  "Missed it!" he groaned. "If I only had my right arm to use now, Imight--"

  Far below, down there a hundred feet beneath them and out a long wayfrom the tower base, night yawned wide in a burst of hellish glare.

  A vast conical hole of flame was gouged in the dark. For a fraction ofa second every tree, limb, twig stood out in vivid detail, as thatblue-white glory shot aloft.

  All up through the forest the girl and Stern got a momentary glimpseof little, clinging Things, crouching misshapen, hideous.

  Then, as a riven and distorted whirl burst upward in a huge geyser ofannihilation, came a detonation that ripped, stunned, shattered; thatsent both the defenders staggering backward from the window.

  Darkness closed again, like a gaping mouth that shuts. And all aboutthe building, through the trees, and down again in a titanic, slashingrain fell the wreckage of things that had been stone, and earth, androot, and tree, and living creatures--that had been--that now were butone indistinguishable mass of ruin and of death.

  After that, here and there, small dark objects came dropping,thudding, crashing down. You might have thought some cosmic gardenerhad shaken his orchard, his orchard where the plums and pears wererotten-ripe.

  "_One!_" cried the engineer, in a strange, wild, exultant voice.