CHAPTER IV

CAPTURED

As Thuria, swift racer of the night, shot again into the sky the scene changed.  As by magic a new aspect fell athwart the face of Nature.  It was as though in the instant one had been transported from one planet to another.  It was the age-old miracle of the Martian nights that is always new, even to Martians—­two moons resplendent in the heavens, where one had been but now; conflicting, fast-changing shadows that altered the very hills themselves; far Cluros, stately, majestic, almost stationary, shedding his steady light upon the world below; Thuria, a great and glorious orb, swinging swift across the vaulted dome of the blue-black night, so low that she seemed to graze the hills, a gorgeous spectacle that held the girl now beneath the spell of its enchantment as it always had and always would.

“Ah, Thuria, mad queen of heaven!” murmured Tara of Helium.  “The hills pass in stately procession, their bosoms rising and falling; the trees move in restless circles; the little grasses describe their little arcs; and all is movement, restless, mysterious movement without sound, while Thuria passes.”  The girl sighed and let her gaze fall again to the stern realities beneath.  There was no mystery in the huge banths.  He who had discovered her squatted there looking hungrily up at her.  Most of the others had wandered away in search of other prey, but a few remained hoping yet to bury their fangs in that soft body.

The night wore on.  Again Thuria left the heavens to her lord and master, hurrying on to keep her tryst with the Sun in other skies.  But a single banth waited impatiently beneath the tree which harbored Tara of Helium.  The others had left, but their roars, and growls, and moans thundered or rumbled, or floated back to her from near and far.  What prey found they in this little valley?  There must be something that they were accustomed to find here that they should be drawn in so great numbers.  The girl wondered what it could be.

How long the night!  Numb, cold, and exhausted, Tara of Helium clung to the tree in growing desperation, for once she had dozed and almost fallen.  Hope was low in her brave little heart.  How much more could she endure?  She asked herself the question and then, with a brave shake of her head, she squared her shoulders.  “I still live!” she said aloud.

The banth looked up and growled.

Came Thuria again and after awhile the great Sun—­a flaming lover, pursuing his heart’s desire.  And Cluros, the cold husband, continued his serene way, as placid as before his house had been violated by this hot Lothario.  And now the Sun and both Moons rode together in the sky, lending their far mysteries to make weird the Martian dawn.  Tara of Helium looked out across the fair valley that spread upon all sides of her.  It was rich and beautiful, but even as she looked upon it she shuddered, for to her mind came a picture of the headless things that the towers and the walls hid.  Those by day and the banths by night!  Ah, was it any wonder that she shuddered?