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of their menace.
Far ahead of him The Red Flower of Zoram was clambering upward along a precarious trail that gave
promise of leading eventually over the rim of the gorge to the upper reaches that she wished to gain.
When she had seen Jason's life in imminent jeopardy, she had been filled with terror and remorse, but
when he had safely completed the descent her mood changed, and with the perversity of her sex she still
sought to elude him. She had almost gained the summit of the escarpment when the storm broke and with
it came a realization that the man behind her was ignorant of the danger which now more surely manaced
him than had the descent of the cliff.
Without an instant's hesitation The Red Flower of Zoram turned and fled swiftly down the steep trail she
had just so laboriously ascended. She must reach him before the waters reached him. She must guide him
to some high place upon the canyon's wall, for she knew that the bottom of this great gorge would soon
be a foaming, boiling torrent, spreading from side to side, its waters, perhaps, two hundred feet in depth.
Already the water was running deep in the canyon far below her and spilling over the rim above her,
racing downward in torrents and cataracts and waterfalls that carried earth and stone with them. Never in
her life had Jana witnessed a storm so terrible. The thunder roared and the lightning flashed; the wind
howled and the water fell in blinding sheets, and yet constantly menaced by instant death the girl groped
her way blindly downward upon her hopeless errand of mercy. How hopeless it was she was soon to
see, for the waters in the gorge had risen, she saw them just below her now, nor was the end in sight.
Nothing down there could have survived. The man must long since have been washed away.
Jason was dead! The Red Flower of Zoram stood for an instant looking at the rising waters below her.
There came to her an urge to throw herself into them. She did not want to live, but something stayed her;
perhaps it was the instinct of primeval man, whose whole existence was a battle against death, who knew
no other state and might not conceive voluntary surrender to the enemy, and so she turned and fought her
way upward as the waters rising below her climbed to overtake her and the waters from above sought to
hurl her backward to destruction.
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Jason Gridley has witnessed cloudbursts in California and Arizona and he knew how quickly gulleys and
ravines may be transformed into raging torrents. He had seen a river a mile wide formed in a few hours in
the San Simon Flats, and when he saw the sudden rush of waters in the bottom of the gorge below him
and realized that no storm that he had ever previously witnessed could compare in magnitude with this, he
lost no time in seeking higher ground; but the sides of the canyon were steep and his upward progress
discouragingly slow, as he saw the waters rising rapidly behind him. Yet there was hope, for just ahead
and above him he saw a gentle acclivity rising toward the summit of the canyon rim.
As he struggled toward safety the boiling torrent rose and lapped his feet, while from above the torrential
rain thundered down upon him, beating him backward so that often for a full minute at a time he could
make no headway.
The raging waters that were filling the gorge reached his knees and for an instant he was swept from his
footing. Clutching at the ground above him with his hands, he lost his rifle, but as it slid into the turgid
waters he clambered swiftly upward and regained momentary safety.
Onward and upward he fought until at last he reached a spot above which he was confident the flood
could not reach and there he crouched in the partial shelter of an overhanging granite ledge as Tarzan and
Thoar and Tar-gash were crouching in another part of the mountains, waiting in dumb misery for the
storm to spend its wrath.
He wondered if Jana had escaped the flood and so much confidence did he have in her masterful ability
to cope with the vagaries of savage Pellucidarian life that he harbored few fears for her upon the score of
the storm.
In the cold and the dark and the wet he tried to plan for the future. What chance had he to find The Red
Flower of Zoram in this savage chaos of stupendous peaks when he did not even know the direction in
which her country lay and where there were no roads or trails and where even the few tracks that she
might have left must have been wholly obliterated by the torrents of water that had covered the whole
surface of the ground?
To stumble blindly on, then, seemed the only course left open to him, since he knew neither the direction
of Zoram, other than in a most general way, nor had any idea as to the whereabouts of his fellow
members of the O-220 expedition.
At last the rain ceased; the sun burst forth upon a steaming world and beneath the benign influence of its
warm rays Jason felt the cold ashes of hope rekindled within his breast. Revivified, he took up the search
that but now had seemed so hopeless.
Trying to bear in mind the general direction in which Jana had told him Zoram lay, he set his face toward
what appeared to be a low saddle between two lofty peaks, which appeared to surmount the summit of
the range.
Thirst no longer afflicted him and the pangs of hunger had become deadened. Nor did it seem at all likely
that he might soon find food since the storm seemed to have driven all animal life from the higher hills, but
fortune smiled upon him. In a water worn rocky hollow he found a nest of eggs that had withstood the
onslaught of the elements. The nature of the creature that had laid them he did not know; nor whether
they were the eggs of fowl or reptile did he care. They were fresh and they were food and so large were
they that the contents of two of them satisfied his hunger.
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A short distance from the spot where he had found them grew a low stunted tree, and having eaten he
carried the three remaining eggs to this meager protection from the prying eyes of soaring reptiles and
birds of prey. Here he removed his clothing, hanging it upon the branches of the tree where the sunlight
might dry it, and then he lay down beneath the tree to sleep, and in the warmth of Pellucidar's eternal
noon he found no discomfort.
How long a time he slept he had no means of estimating, but when he awoke he was completely rested
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