“Then I am still in Cupia?” Myles asked.
“You are,” the man replied. “To be more specific, you are in the Caves of Kar. But write no more, for you are ill and weak. Lie down and rest.”
And he started to take away the pad, but Myles snatched it back and wrote: “If, then, you know so much about the outside world, tell me of the Princess Lilla.”
“She is well and safe,” the man replied.
“And my army?”
“It is holding its own in the northern mountains.”
This time the old man retained the pad, thus leaving his patient speechless.
Next he rang a soundless bell, and there entered one of the strangest creatures which Cabot had ever seen. In general appearance it bore out the same relation to a Cupian as does a small gorilla to a human being on earth. Its head was prognathous and set deep on its shoulders. Its skin was hairless, except on the top of its head, and was the color of bluish slate. Its arms were long and gangling. It stood with a stoop and walked with a shuffle. Like the Cupians, it was earless, and had antennae, rudimentary wings, and six digits on each hand and foot.
In the past Cabot had occasionally heard of the legendary blue apes which were sometimes said to be seen emerging from caves in the Okarze Mountains, but never before had he seen one.
Furthermore, the presence and general appearance of this beast afforded a rational explanation of the manner of Cabot’s rescue from two aquatic boa-constrictors on the ledge above the river in the subterranean darkness, and of his presence here. His rescuer had had four hands; so had this blue ape.