Og—Son of Fire

by Irving Crump

The bats were like great black-robed spirits that flitted softly about, or hung from convenient crevices and glared at them with eyes that showed green fire in the darkness. Some of the largest of them, as if resentful of this invasion, even swooped toward them and clicked long and ugly teeth, and uttered shrill squeaks. Mostly they made for Og, singling him out no doubt because of the flickering torch he held. They did not know what this sparkling thing was and they dived at it repeatedly until Og, with a yell of triumph that echoed and reechoed from wall to wall of the cavern, brought one of them down with a lightning-like swing of his stone hammer and crushed out its life before it could struggle up from the stone floor. After that the great black bats soared and swooped at a safer distance.

Og threw off the fear of the great cavern first and while the tree folk huddled in a mass in the center of the cave and clung to each other for protection, staring about them fearfully, the hairy boy with his torch and the wolf cubs at his heels, began to explore the great room.

It was soon apparent to him that the cave was the center of a number of small caves that seemed to reach out in all directions, like legs from the body of a giant spider. Og wondered where these other caves led to, and as he came to the entrance of each of them he stopped and peered into them, but even he was not bold enough to attempt to explore them.

Presently he came to one about the entrance of which there lingered a dreadful, sickening odor that suddenly filled Og’s soul with terror, and made the wolf cubs growl, while the hair on their shoulders bristled and their tails, instead of stiffening with the desire to fight, dropped between their legs. Og was on the point of running away, but, with an effort, he mastered himself and, hiding behind a cone-shaped stalagmite, he peered into the black entrance, holding his torch so that it would send its light rays as far as possible down the passage.

He could see nothing, but on the cool draught that came down the passage way he got a stronger scent of the dreadful odor. It was familiar. He had smelled it before and it had terrorized him then, yet for the moment he could not identify it. What could it be? He asked the question over and over again. Then he stopped to listen. Down the passageway came a peculiar scraping sound, as if some long slender body were dragging its full length along the rock floor. Suddenly Og knew what the hideous thing was, and he went cold as he realized the menace that was approaching. It was a python; a giant snake, ancestor of the present day constrictor of the southern jungles. It had been driven by the forest fire to take refuge in a cavern in the mountains, and as Og and the tree people had wandered down one of the passages to the great central cavern, it was doing likewise.

Og could hardly repress a cry of fear as he realized that all too soon the great reptile would slide its terrible length into the central cavern. Then woe to him and the tree people. These ape men were the natural prey of the python, who would lie in wait among the matted branches of the forest and throw coils about the unfortunate tree man who ventured near his lair. When the python found this huddled mass of ape folk in the central cavern, Og knew that the result would be terrible to witness. He turned away from his hiding place to hurry back to spread a warning. But even as he left the shelter of the cone-like stalagmite a great, ugly, flat head, with cold green eyes, terrifically powerful jaws and a darting tongue, appeared in the entrance of the cavern, and a moment later the giant python began to slide its great shining body into the central cave, working its serpentine way among the stalagmites swiftly and softly, save for the peculiar scraping sound that its heavy body made as it slid its length across the limestone floor.

The hairy boy had hardly time to dodge behind another sheltering pinnacle when the huge serpent raised its head and shining neck aloft and glared about the cavern. Og knew instantly that the snake had discovered the tree folk, for like a flash its head came down, then with surprising speed it began to slip across the cavern, sliding so close to the hiding Og that he could have touched the shining coils as they glided by.

Og, valiant despite his own fears, wanted to rush forward and warn the tree folk, scatter them, and tell them to take refuge wherever they could, but the great snake had glided between and cut him off from them.