CHAPTER VI
The City of the Ogrum
Hidden on the shore, Craig and his men watched the looting of the Idaho. The planes of the Ogrum were still wheeling overhead. Dozens had alighted on the water around the doomed ship and the Ogrum were climbing aboard. Craig saw how the ship had been taken. Gas! Trails of thin white mist still floated around the vessel. The diving planes had sprayed some kind of gas on the ship. It was obviously some kind of vapor different from any known in the far-off Twentieth Century but equally obviously it was devilishly effective. Guru verified the fact that gas had been used.
"White cloud makes sleep, Guru says," Michaelson supplied.
Before the sleep had come, the guns of the Idaho had taken a toll of the attackers, as wrecked planes on the water testified. Craig saw the pilot of one of the planes, obviously wounded, signal to the other Ogrum to help him. His flier was sinking and he was unable to swim. His comrades completely ignored his cries for help. The plane sank and the Ogrum pilot, after vainly attempting to swim, went under too. There were planes near that could have rescued him and certainly some of the Ogrum saw him, but they made no attempt to help.
"Devils!" Craig said huskily. "They're devils. They don't even take care of their own wounded comrades."
"If they treat their own men that way, what will they do to their captives?" Michaelson questioned.
Craig could only stare at him in horror.
"Ask him," he jerked a finger toward Guru, "if the gas kills the people who inhale it."
The scientist put the question. Guru, squatting on his haunches, answered slowly.