Jana of the Jungle:The vale of Lost Men

by Generation X-er

Jana of the jungle discovers another lost city in the Amazon

       The mighty Amazon!

       It snakes and courses through the mighty Brazilian rainforest, a splendid serpent of gray-blue, giving living to the teeming jungle. Along its banks are told many strange legends—of lost kingdoms deep in the jungle, of a hidden realm where primitive monsters roamed and ranged, of a forg. tten race of powerful blonde warrior-goddesses, that to the many scattered tribes are a legend of terror. And many, many others. This is a tale of one such legend.  It is called……

                                                  Jana of the Jungle

                                            The Vale of Lost Men

     The white man ran and ran. The jungle night seemed endless, and black as the depths of eternity. Eerie night calls sounded all about him—the calls of the howler monkeys raged throughout the treetops, though these were less numerous than in the daytime, the weird cries of night birds, the distant scream of a puma or the deep throaty rumble of that lord of the Amazon, the mighty jaguar.

    Thorns and vines scraped the man's arms and legs. His clothes were now in tatters. Clouds of hostile insects stung him. But on he ran, sweat oozing out of every pore.

     At last, when the rosy fingers of a new dawn began to color the sky over the leafy canopy, and the first rays of the new sun shot through the emerald aisles, the man stumbled into a clearing. It turned out it was a compound of some sort. The man looked up and gasped with relief, for he knew then that he had at last reached the nearest outpost of civilization. Where he was, he did not know, could not even guess. But in his situation, it hardly mattered.

    He stumbled to the door of the compound. There was a jeep parked nearby. From its insignia, the man noted that it was a ranger vehicle. This must be a ranger station—or maybe a veterinary hospital. The man's approach set off a chorus from the caged birds nearby—toucans, quetzals, carasous, macaws, cocks-of –the-rock, and others. Then he saw the cats—caged pumas and jaguars, and an ocelot, pacing angrily behind wire mesh. All of the caged carnivores wore red or blue tags. Surely, this must be a conservation building, or something of the sort.

   The man banged loudly on the door. "Open up!" he cried. "Help me! Help me!" His voice came out hoarse, crack, and barely audible, though he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

   The door opened as the man fell weakly to his knees. A man in a kaki uniform stood in the door. "Who are you?" he asked.

   "Just take me in!" the man begged.

   The man—a ranger or a conservation officer by the look of him—hauled the other man into the building and laid him out on a couch. "Take it easy," he said. "I'm Dr. Ben Cooper, and this is my animal hospital. I mostly treat animals, but I'll see what I can do. I'll need to run some blood tests. You look like you might have a fever."

      Dr. Cooper drew blood from the man's arm. He then ran some tests in the laboratory, while the man fell into a deep sleep on the couch. The tests showed, unfortunately, that the man had indeed, picked up one of the local viruses, but it was a comparatetively mild strain, one he should recover from in about a week of rest. Who was this man? Where had he come from? The doctor wanted to know. He was definitely a white man, not a red or Hispanic, and from his clothes, the doctor gathered that he might be an American. What he had was doing lost in the jungle he couldn't say.

    After nearly a week of bed rest, the man had almost recovered. The fever had run its course, but still, the doctor told him to remain where he was. In that time, he had managed to learn a great deal about the man, and why he was here. And one evening, a week later, three strangers entered the compound.

     Dr. Cooper led them to the man's bedside. The traveler was still sleeping, when Dr. Cooper roused him, and told him that they had guests.

   The man wearily opened his eyes. At first, he couldn't quite credit what they were telling him.

Just a few feet from him stood a beautiful blonde girl, either in her late teens or early twenties. She as strikingly attractive in her features and proportions, which were accentuated by the tight animal skin she wore. Her silky mane of hair was a startling white-blond, and her almond-shaped eyes

Sparkled a sharp mint green. There was some kind of odd necklace about her slender throat, banded red and black, possibly of native design. The small, gray animal was riding the girl's rounded shoulder.

    The man blinked and sat up. "Whoa! Lady, are you really there, or have I died and gone to heaven?"

    "Take it easy." Said Ben. "You're still sick."

    "Yeah, right. But—"

     "Don't worry." The girl laughed. "I'm just as real as you are. My name is Jana—Jana of the Jungle. This are my friends Montaro and Ghost." The small animal on the girl's shouldered chirruped loudly, as though in annoyance. The man got a closer look at the girl's small companion, saw for the first time that it was a yapok, or water possum, a small aquatic marsupial.

   "Oh, yes, and this is Tiko." The girl said. "I wouldn't want to forget her."

     Montarro was the tall man standing by Jana's side. The traveler saw that he was a red man, from his regal headgear and garb he guessed he might be a chief, or some high ranking official in one of the local tribes, only he couldn't recognize what tribe he was from.

     A loud "Hrrrumph!" caused the man to look down. He gasped loudly, and nearly jumped back on the bed. A huge cat stood at the jungle girl's feet. From its size and proportions, it could only be a jaguar, but it was like no other jaguar the man had ever seen, for its coat bore not the gaudy rosette pattern of the common jaguar, nor the glossy midnight sheen of its melanistic counterpart, but was the glistening white of polished ivory. Not the yellow-hued ivory, but ivory that was near white as polar snow. The big cat's eyes blazed with the fire of emeralds, as a rumble escaped from his deep chest.

    "My god!" the man cried. "A white jaguar! Is—is it real?"

    "Real as anything." Dr. Ben Cooper laughed.

    "I've never heard of such a thing."

     "Well, white jaguars that aren't albinos do exist. There's record of them. But they're very rare, as you might guess. Much rarer than the black ones that are actually quite common."

     "I found Ghost in a hunter's trap when he was just a cub." Jana explained. "And I raised him to adulthood. I wasn't about to let him be exploited."

    "Well, that's a most impressive cat, you've got there, girl, I must say. But what about about you?"

     "When I was a child, I was on a trip down the Amazon with my father, when there was an accident. We were thrown overboard, and I would have drowned if Montaro hadn't rescued me. He is the last member of his tribe, and he was living alone with the animals of the jungle. His tribe is an ancient one, and remembers the days when men and beasts could communicate. They still practiced the ancient magic that was put into this land in times too far gone for any save his people to remember. He showed me the ways of nature, and I grew up with the animals of the jungle. They are like family to us. I spent years trying to find my father, but we never succeeded."

    The man raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Magic? Come one now, girl, I'm not that gullible."

     "Then you may be surprised what the Staff of Power is capable of." Montaro said, speaking for the first time. He lifted a long staff that looked rather liked a ceremonial spear. "The Shamans who made it channeled the elemental powers of earth, wind and fire into it. The Staff is nearly a thousand years old. I received the Staff from my father when I became chief, and he from his father, he from his, back once thousand years, when the magic of this land was waning, and the shamans found a way to preserve it by creating this staff. Only one of my bloodline my safely wield it, though, so take caution."

    The man looked at the staff unbelievingly for several long moments, and then said uneasily, "Okay, okay if you say so. I'm the stranger here after all. I don't think I've introduced myself yet. My name is Tom Richardson. It's quite a coincidence that you're looking for your father, Jana. I happen to be looking for my son."

    "Your son?"

     "Yes. Let's see. Where should I begin? It happened three years ago, when I was taking a plane over a remote region of the Amazon with my wife and twelve-year-old son Todd. We were over the mountains of the Ricardo Franco chain, I believe, when our plane crashed. I told Todd to grab one of the emergency parachutes and save himself. He jumped out and parachuted to safety—at least I hope he landed safely. The plane crashed some long miles South of the region we were over when Todd bailed out. We survived, thanks to the thick canopy of trees we landed in. But it was weeks before we saw any sign of civilization. That place is filled with jaguars, giant snakes, and hostile Indian tribes. But we never saw Todd again. I spent months in a hospital in Rio recuperating. When I had enough of my strength back, I insisted on going back into that accursed jungle and looking for him. But my wife and coworkers persuaded me to get an expedition together, which we did, soon as I could. And for two whole years we spent exploring that region, but we never found a trace of him. There was no sign of where he had landed, no trace of his parachute, and thank God, no bones. None of the local tribes knew anything of his possible whereabouts. But we still hadn't penetrated far enough yet. As far as I know the spot we were over when Todd bailed out is still inaccessible to us. "

    "You mean the Madaharra region?" Jana inquired.

    "Ah." Said Montaro. "It is indeed a place of terrible danger, Jana."

    "Yes, I know." Jana said. "The Mandahara are a terrible tribe. Shunned by most other people of the Amazon., because of their cannibalistic ways."

    "That's true." Said Tom Richardson. "But that wasn't half our problem. The exact spot our plane was over when Todd parachuted is in a region even the Mandahara won't go near. It is place out of tribal legend, that part of the Ricardo Franco chain called the Mountains of the Mist by the locals."

     Montaro and Jana each looked at each other. "Uh. It is indeed a strange and mysterious place, Jana. And one surrounded by untold danger. We dare not go there."

    "We may have to, Montaro." said Jana. "if the life of this man's son is in danger."

   "I'm not going to get you involved." Said Tom Richardson. "it's something I need to do myself. I'm the only one who returned from our last expedition. The rest were either killed or captured. I don't want to endanger any more people. But I've got to go myself, until I find out what happened to my son."

     "We'll go with you." Said Jana. "But what happened to your men? Who captured them? The Manaharra?"

   "No." Tom Richardson said. "That's the strange part. We had penetrated further into the interior than we ever had before. We had with us a native guide, one of the few who was fairly familiar with the regions. He agreed to guide us to the Mountains of the Mists. It is that region of mountains with high cliffs. They are not high enough to be snow peaked. But sides of those are so incredibly sheer and smooth, that scaling them is impossible. But this man said he knew a secret passage into them. I had my doubts, but he even drew us a map showing where it was located. I even still have it with me."

     Richardson produced the rolled up map form his pocket, and handed it to Jana. Jana looked it over. Indeed it was a map of the remote region, with the villages of the Mandaharra, mapped out. It showed the Mountains of the Mist, and the their extent. Richardson had marked on the map where he thought his son had parachuted. And there was another mark where the pass through the cliffs was supposed to be.

    "We were over that area where Todd would have to have landed. " Richardson explained. I remember that when directly over the mountains, we could not see anything below.  Everything was veiled in thick mist. That's how the mountains got their name."

    "I've heard of those mountains," said Jana. "But no one has ever gotten close to them. Even the tribes of that region stay away. But they have their legends…."

    "Yes." Said Montaro. "I have heard them. They tell of a place beyond the high cliffs where primitive monsters roam, and strange tribes who are unlike other men."

    "Yes, I know." Ben Cooper said laughingly. "It was those selfsame cliffs that gave Sir Arthur Conan Doyle the idea for his "Lost World" novel. I've never put much stock in those stories myself. But apparently some people have."

   "Right." Agreed Richardson. "He got the idea from the famed explorer Colonel Percy Fawcett, who believed they were the sight of a lost world, where lost cites from the time of Atlantis might still thrive, and strange beasts like dinosaurs might still live. Fawcett went on several expeditions into the heart of the Matto Grosso region, until he and his men mysteriously vanished in 1925.

    "Yes, that's right." Said Ben. "He had been near those mountains, and was about to take his most dangerous plunge yet into that unknown country. Fawcett must have thought he knew where those lost cities or dinosaurs were, because he sent a message to his wife saying that he had found what he was looking for."

    "And then Fawcett and his men vanished." Richardson finished. "Every last one of them. There were rumors, of course. Some reports claimed he was alive, and ruling a tribe of cannibals somewhere. Others said he had been killed, and one explorer claimed to have seen Fawcett's shrunken head on a chief's hut. I once suggested to one of my own party that maybe Fawcett ended up eaten by one of those dinosaurs he was searching for. " he laughed weakly. "The native trackers among us, all of whom knew the region better than any of us whites, didn't seem to share the humor. I guess it is a rather tasteless joke, given the circumstances."

   "Well, I don't believe in lost cites or dinosaurs." Said Ben. "But I do believe that your son may well be alive in the Mato Grosso area. I doubt he's anywhere near the Ricardo Franco Mountains though. The winds probably blew him south toward the jungle. It could be he was adapted by one of the tribes. There have been cases of white children adopted by the Indians, you know."

    "Todd was a pretty tough kid." Richardson said. "I think he is capable of surviving. I just hope I can find him."

    "About not believing in those lost cities, Ben," Jana said. "How can you be sure? There are legends of lost cities all over South America. Some of them are true, as you and I both know." She thought of the lost city of the Gorgas, a native civilization, and Alkan, the forgotten Aztec colony in the heart of Brazil, once presided over by a white-skinned god Quetzalcoatl Jana had once mistaken for her father, and the city of the Amazons, tall, white-skinned warriors of Greek descent. And there were stranger secrets still in the heart of the vastness, such as the forbidden land of the Katuchi, a tribe of giant hairy warriors.

     The tales that had lured Col. Fawcett to his mysterious end were no stranger, no less steeped in mystery to the outside world, than were these.

    "Well," said Ben "tell us what happened next. Who captured your men?"

    "If you have trouble believing in legends," said Richardson," Then you may find what I'm about to tell you hard to swallow."

    "Go on." Ben said.

     "It was on the third week of the expedition. Already, we were deep within the Matro Grosso region, further than any white man had before ventured, exp[ect perhaps Col. Fawcett himself. We had not yet reached the Mountains of the Mist. Our head native guide told us that before we reached the foot of those fabled cliffs, we were to pass through a mysterious land called the Vale of Hidden Men."

   "Vale of Hidden Men." Murmured Ben Cooper thoughtfully. "Seems I've heard of that before."

    "I have heard of it." Said Montaro. "My tribal elders knew well of that land. They called it a place of bad spirits."

   "That's what my native guides said. They feared to enter it, or even go near it boundaries, far more than they feared the Mountains of the Mist. They said spirits inhabited that place—evil spirits who once were flesh-and=blood mortals, but whom the gods had cursed to dwell in that country forever. They said they could recognize these spirits because their bodies were of metal flashed like the sun.

    "Go on." Said Ben.

  Richardson sighed. "Well, mostly I try to respect tribal superstition. But I didn't want to turn back now, since I was feeling confident I was really close to finding Todd. There were other ways around the Vale, as they kept calling it, but all of them were inhabited by the Mandahara, or by other equally hostile tribes. Finally, we reached an agreement. They would not lead my directly through the vale, but there was a way to circle around the borders. They hated doing that, and told me so, but I kept pressing, and at last they agreed. The place they called the vale turned out to be a series of vast, perpendicular cliffs—not nearly so huge as those that gird the Mountains where we were headed, but awesome, nonetheless. I assumed they were a crater of what must have at one time have been an active volcano. As we circumscribed them, we noticed there were a number of cracks and fissures in the sides of the cliffs. Most looked natural, but some looked at least partially man-made. We figured at least some of them might lead deep within the cliffs, and if I weren't headed elsewhere, they might well be of interest to the archeologist or explorer. Maybe some mysterious lost tribe or race did inhabit the crater.

     "But like I said, my own business lay in the Mist region of the Ricardo Franco chain, still many miles distant. And for the first two days circumscribing the Vale, nothing befell our party, except for the usual insects, leeches, and the vampire bats which plagued us when we slept. On the third day, however….." he paused.

    "On the third day, what?" Jana pressed.

    "It was around noon. We had stopped for a brief rest, and were now continuing around the west die of the wall, when we were attacked. We readied our rifles, as the sounds of a large party of men reached our ears. We were astonished to find that the men that emerged from the jungle were not Indians, though some of their number looked as though they had a trace of Indian blood in them. They were incontestably white men. But the most amazing thing about them was that they were wearing armor."

   "Armor?" asked Ben "Are sure you and your men didn't have too much to drink? No offense."

    "We had no alcohol with us." Richardson replied sternly. "These men were wearing steel-plate armor. And helmets. They carried iron shields with a scarlet eagle emblem on them. Some of them also carried swords, for the love of God. Others carried steel-shafted spears. It was as though a time portal had been thrown open, warriors of another age had stepped through. I rembered what my guides had warned me of,  of men whose bodies flashed like the sun.They reminded me vaguely of pictures I'd seen of the early Roman empire, but they weren't entirely the same. Their armor and helmets were somewhat different in design, and if they had counterparts anywhere in the ancient world, I couldn't place them. Not that I cared, at the moment. My men were at a loss. For a moment we just stood staring at these warriors from another time who had materialized out of the jungle before us. For an instant, they did the same, as though they were astonished to see us. Then one of them gave an order—I suppose he was their captain or something. They surged forward, obviously meaning to attack. My men opened fire. Our bullets grazed harmlessly off their armored uniform, though one or two of them fell, so we must have found a vulnerable spot on two of them. But at least four of us got skewered on those long spears. Then we broke and scattered. They hunted us down. It became apparent, now that I think about it, that they weren't trying to kill us, so long as we didn't try to kill them. Their purpose was to capture, but for what purpose I can't guess. There were far more of them behind those trees then we had first supposed, perhaps dozens. A small army. They had us far outnumbered. They chased us down, and we were forced to hide in the jungle. My companions, the ones I know about, were captured. There are a few that I hope made it back to civilization, or back to their native tribes. But as far as I know, I'm the only one who actually made it back this far. For days I wandered in the region. I might have continued on, in the hope of somehow finding my son, but I lost all sense of direction. Finally, I made it to your hospital. But I'm determined to go back, once I recover, and get some supplies—even if I must go alone."

    "Don't worry, you won't have to." Said Jana. "Ghost and I will go with you, and be your guard. You will go too, won't you Monetary?"
    "Perhaps." Monetary answered. "But I would like a word with you first, Jana." He turned and walked out of the room. Jana followed, as Ghost sat down next to the hospital bed, and absently licked Tom Richardson's arm. Richardson winced at the sand=paper feel of the cat's fibers. "We'll see to it, that you find you missing son." Ben assured him.

   In the other room, Montaro said to Jana. "Like you, I wish to help this man. But are you certain, Jana, that we can trust him?"

    "Is there any reason not to?" Jana asked.

    "Remember the time that couple claimed to have been looking for their missing son? We escorted them to the hidden city of the Gorgas, only to learn that it was the Gorgas' golden sun-god they were after all along. And hear is another man claiming to be searching for his missing child."

     "Hmmmmm. You do have a point Montaro. Do you know of any hidden treasure in the Matto Grosso region?"

    "None that I know of. But there are many legends of lost cities, just as the man has told us. And where there are lost cities, treasure is always a possibility. And I know that he lost Colonel Fawcett of whom he speaks once lived with a tribe called the Tapuyas, who he reported as fair-skinned with light or auburn hair, unlike other tribes. They are also reported to be skilled at working gold and jewelry. Perhaps the Tapuys are related to the tribe who captured Richardson's men. And perhaps their jewel and gold working skills have more reason for his being here than his story of a missing son."

   That may be Montaro. I do not wish to make the same mistake twice. But suppose his son really is missing."

    "Uh. Then we would be doing the man a great dishonor in not trusting him."

    "Exactly." Said Jana. "Let's escort him to the Ricardo Franco chain as far as we can. And this time, we'll watch out for any signs of treachery."

    "That we must, Jana. I do not like to say it, but all strangers do not come to the jungle in peace. We knew well of the golden god of the Gorgas, and those thieves' habit of gold collecting, yet we allowed their lies to lead us there anyway. This time, we must make sure nothing like that happens."

     When they reentered the room, Tom Richardson was already back on his feet. "I hope you've decided to help me?" he asked.

    "We have." said Montaro. "We cannot allow you to do this on your own. But do not leave our sight during the track to the Mountains of the Mist. The jungle holds too many dangers."

     The next day they gathered their provisions, and went forward on foot to a nearby trading post, on the banks of the Rio Teles. There, Ben Cooper rented a steamboat, and they traveled South in the direction of the Brazilian-Bolivian border, separated with hundreds of miles of dense dark rainforest, some of which no outsider had ever set foot. The shores of the great river teemed with water birds, including flamingos, cranes, and flocks of vivid scarlet ibis. There were droves of capybaras peccaries frequenting the shores, and the occasional tapir and brocket deer. As the river wound its way deeper and deeper into the unexplored realm, they sighted caimans sunning themselves on the river banks, and the larger, more savage Oronoco crocodile. 

     "Any chance of those things getting us, Jana?" Paul Richardson asked.

     "Not as long as we respect them, and do not jump overboard when they are hungry."

    "Then remind me to stay out of their way." He laughed.

     They had not gone much further, however, when Jana's assurances were put to the test. The boat struck a protruding rock. The entire boat shook, though the jar was slight compared to the one that had separated Jana from her father. But it was enough to knock Paul Richardson off the deck and into the now turbulent water. Jana and Montaro were not certain what had caused this—perhaps the man had just been leaning over too far, and in his still weakened condition when they had hit. Not that that mattered now. The man was splashing as yelling to be rescued.

    "Richardson is overboard, Jana." Montaro said. "I shall use my staff—or perhaps Ghost can jump in and save him."

    "I will use my necklace," said Jana. She unfastened the necklace and tossed it at a large, overhanging branch. The necklace sawed through the branch, causing it to crash into the water.

    "Thanks, Jana." Richardson gasped as he splashed for it. The necklace circled through the air to soar back over the boat. Ghost, who was lying on the deck with Tiko sprang up and seized it in his jaws and retrieved it for Jana. 

    But then they all noticed something else. A long, sinister shape was gliding through the turgid water in the direction of the flailing explorer. At first, Jana thought it must be one of the great crocodiles that frequented the river, or perhaps a large jackery, but soon she recognized the shape for what it was. And it was overtaking Richardson fast. Even it he reached the branch, it might easily have him.

   "It is a giant anaconda." Said Montaro. "Richardson may be done for."

    "Not if I can help it." Said Jana. The jungle girl ran to the edge of the rail. She could not leap in and save Richardson in time. But she knew there was something she could do. She raised her head to the sky and voiced her weird call—the call that was known to all jungle animals since the days when men and beasts spoke the same tongue.

    Ghost bounded to her side. The great ivory cat snarled down at the water, voicing a feline's natural revulsion of all things reptilian.

   "No, Ghost!" said Jana, stroking the cat's neck and shoulders. "Stay." She sensed the cat was about to plunge into the turgid water to do battle with the giant snake. Jaguars being one of the few cats who were at home in the water, he might have been able to overwhelm the mighty reptile. But anacondas were even more at home in the water, and it was possible even a cat as huge and fierce as Ghost would have been bested, and Jana did not want to lose him. Besides, if she could communicate with the serpent, then perhaps no animals blood would have to be shed, and that was the way Jana wanted it, if at all possible.

    She again voiced her cry, and she saw that the giant river serpent was responding. The great swimming reptile bypassed the floundering Richardson, just as the man was able to reach the safety of the log. The snake undulated toward the side of the boat, and the great triangular head lifted out of the water, surmounted on several feet of glistening neck.

  "Slithor!" Jana addressed the mammoth water boa. "Listen to me, Slithor! You will hunt elsewhere for your meal. But I need your help! I want you to help that man. Bring that man to me, Slithor!"

   The anaconda flashed around in a tremendous arch. Richardson gasped in horror as what looked like 32 feet of glistening coils undulating back through the water toward him.

    "Do not swim away, Richardson!" Jana called. "He will help you."

    Richardson looked on the bring of panicking anyhow, but even as he gasped in fright and revulsion, the monster's gleaming coils rose out of the water beneath his arms. He realized the animal was not treating him like a potential meal, so he clung to the beast, as Jana had instructed. The anaconda bore him back to the boat where Jana and Montaro pulled him aboard.

     "My thanks, Slithor." called Jana, as the mighty river serpent undulated away.

    "My thanks to you, Jana." Gasped Richardson." You…..you really communicated with that snake. I'd never have believed it!"

   " Can communicate with all animals—even the insects respond to the ancient tongue."

    "I'm certainly grateful that you can." Richardson said.

    "Good." Said Montaro. "See that you don't fall overboard again. The river holds many other dangers besides the giant snake. There are the crocodiles we have seen. And the piranha."

     "We will be traveling into piranha infested water very shortly." Jana said. "So be cautioned."

     "Then I certainly hope your "magic" or whatever you call it, works on fish."

     "Piranha attacks on large mammals are actually quite rare," Jana informed him. "but there are several areas coming up where large schools congregate. Anything in the water may be a target."

     They traveled further downriver where the dangerous fish lived. Once they passed a savage school of piranha, which leaped and savagely clicked their steel-trap jaws at the sides of the boat, but nothing else happened.

    As evening drew near, they went ashore and made camp. Manuel Pedarez, the boat captain turn the boat around and sailed back the way they had come. They told him to meet them here, on this exact spot, at the end of next week.

    As the fire blazed, casting eerie shapes dancing against the thick boles of tree trunks. They sat around in a semicircle. Jana lay against Ghost, who was stretched and relaxed, the light of the fire shimmering of his brilliant alabaster coat. Jana scratched him behind his ears, and the jaguar responded with a purring rumble deep within his throat. Tiko lay nestled within Ghost's paws, the little yapok having nothing to fear from the mighty jaguar.

     Before they had gathered wood for the fire, Ghost had gone hunting into the surrounding jungle, where he captured a squealing white-lipped peccary in a battle royal that left a jagged scar rent by one savage tusk in the peccary last draw in defending his life. The peccary now was skewered on the spit, having been skinned and eviscerated by the humans. Dr. Cooper had treated the wound the jaguar's kill had inflicted with the antiseptic he had brought with him. Ghost had winced and growled but he knew Ben Cooper, and he allowed the veterinarian to treat him. 

    "That pork looks mighty good." Richardson commented. "But does it trouble you for us to eat one of your animals friends." He asked Jana.

     "Sometimes." Jana admitted. "I usually try to limit myself to fruit, or at least fish. But I know that Ghost must eat meat, and he often can't resist showing me his prowess as a hunter."

    "Like a regular housecat bringing home a captured mouse." Said Ben.

    "I guess so." Said Jana. "Remember let's not let any of this meat go to waste."

   "I'm with you on that." Said Richardson. They cut slices of meat from the slain peccary, and ate. As they were finishing up their meal, they got to talk about the earlier encounter with the anaconda.

   "That was some snake," Richardson said. "Almost had me too, before you talked him out of it."

  "I'm glad I was there." Jana laughed. "But there are stranger legends in these parts about snakes growing even bigger than that monster."

    Richardson raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Well, I might have heard of one of them myself—about the explorers who come to a gigantic wall in the jungle. It's too high to climb so they try to circle around it. When they finally reach the end two or three days later they find the gigantic head of giant serpent."

    "A native superstition." Montaro said.

    "I'm well aware of that." Said Richardson.

     "But one based in fact. Many are the legends of giant serpents among the Amazon tribes. Especially in this region."

    "And what exactly are some of them?" Richardson asked.

    "Well, I've that around these parts, there's tribes believe that a giant serpent, three or four times the size of that monster that almost got you lives around here in the river, but no one has ever seen it up close."

    "Or lived to tell about it." Montaro grimly added.

    "What's it supposed to be?" Richardson asked. "A survivor from prehistoric times?"
     "Just a local legend, I'm afraid." Dr. Cooper said.

    "But most legends have basis in facts." Said Montaro.

    "So I keep hearing." Said Ben.

     "Any chance of us running into it?" Richardson asked.

   "I doubt it." Said Ben. "But….well there is always the possibility. "Some of the local tribes say it slithers out on land after dark to swallow their livestock and children whole."

     "Maybe we shouldn't have can't this close to the river." Offered Richardson.

    "Don't worry." Said Jana "I think we camped far enough away. The crocodiles and jackeries don't come this far on land, and neither do the big snakes. And anyway, the fire will keep them away. Even the anaconda fears it."

     "I'll say amen to that." Said Richardson. "By the way, how many marches is it before we reach the Vale of Lost Men form this river? The last time I was there, my men and I were traveling over land, from the east."

     "We've come as far as we can on the river." Said Montaro. "The place you seek to cross is still many marches from here, but we should get there within three days, if we keep moving."

     "You know something," said Richardson."I've been thinking about Col. Fawcett. There was one tribe he visited in this area who shoed him a plaque with a picture of man dressed in a toga and sandals on it—you know something like the ancient Greeks or Romans might wear. They claimed it came for the lost city Fawcett was seeking. Do you suppose it could have been the same lost city those strange men were from."

    "It is indeed possible." said Montaro."

     "But I'll have to see them first before I believe them." Said Ben. "Not that I doubt your story, Mr. Richardson. It's just that I'm still not sure you saw what you thought you saw."

   That night, they took turns watching the campfire, the night interrupted only by the screams of night birds, and hisses of reptilian life from the great river.

     When they awoke the next morning, the rosy light of dawn was painting the western sky over the trees. The rich throaty sounds of howler monkeys greeted them. They traveled the rest of the day through the emerald depths of the jungle, fighting off swarms of stinging insects, and the occasional constrictor or poisonous snake. Once, Richardson nearly stepped on a bushmaster that laid coiled against a rotten stump. The snake had lain camouflaged, but only Jana and Ghost had heeded the snake's toxic hiss, before she grabbed Richardson by the arm, and pointed out the danger. By now, Richardson was a veteran explorer, and jungle was no stranger to  him. But he still marveled at the ultra keen senses of the jungle girl, and how they had saved his life once again.

   By mid morning of the third day, they could see the rim of the extinct crater marking the Vale of Hidden Men. There were some well-worn game trails in this area, some frequented by the local tribesmen, and Richardson kept checking the forest floor for any trace of the prints of sandaled feet, which might verify the story of him and his comrades. But though the barefoot prints of local local villagers were fairly common, there was no sign of the strange armor-clad men Richardson claimed to have seen.  Then, sometime around midday with the sun high in the sky there was a shill, sharp whistle in the air.

   They all saw its source. Some concealed human foe had fired a native dart into Ben Cooper's neck.

   "My God!" cried Ben. "A dart. Arrow poison—" Already, he felt faint, and collapsed to his knees. "Get my medical kit! I've got anti-venom in there!"

   There was another whistle through the air, this one narrowly missing Richardson. "God!" he exclaimed. "Who's shooting at us."

    "Someone who is unhappy with our presence here!" answered Montaro, gripping his staff of power. He recited an ancient incantation in his native tongue. All at once brilliant streams of colored light erupted from the ancient staff. They filled the jungle with unnatural brilliance chasing back the shadows.

   They still did not see who their foes were. But from the surrounding jungle came exclamations of awe and ecstasy.  The light faded, and they all stood in abject awe, as they saw forms swinging through the trees at them. The movements seemed human, but too diminutive, and the ease at which they swung through he trees was so pronounced that it gave Jana the impression they were being attacked by some sort of intelligent apes.

   But as the first one of them swung down and lighted on the forest floor, Jana could see that he was a man, only a very diminutive one. Then another of the arboreal warrior swung down, and another and yet another. Who were these people? They were unlike any men they had ever seen. They must be members of a local tribe of Indians, Jana reasoned. They were incontestably red men. But the tallest among them reached below her shoulders. All of them wore red and indigo war-paint, and carried bows and quivers, as well as blowguns and darts.

    "Montaro…." Whispered Jana. "Who are these people?"

    "They are forest pygmies. I have heard legends of them."

   "I knew there were pygmies among the tribes of the African Congo." Said Jana. "but I've never heard of any race of dwarves in the Americas before."

     "I've heard of them." Richardson said. "Col. Fawcett wrote of them in his diary."

    Montaro looked at him sharply. "Is this so?"

      Richardson nodded. "He didn't actually encounter them. But he heard rumors of them from the other tribes in this region."

    "Then they are indeed a secretive people, I gather. I imagine they are the kind to deal harshly with outsiders."

     "Thanks for making me more nervous." Richardson said.

     "Do not worry."said Montaro. "I have them calmed—for the moment."

     The forest pygmies were reacting strongly to Ghost. Though they lowered their arrows in the presence of the humans, several kept them trained on the cat. Tough they were treated the feline with even greater reverence, staring open-mouthed at his gleaming alabaster coat. The white jaguar snarled and gnarred his fangs at them, causing some of the pygmy Indians to retreat in his presence.

    Montaro spoke some words of his native dialect to the man whom he perceived as their leader. The man returned with a few words in his own. Soon Montaro and the pygmy were conversing.

   "What did he say?" Jana asked, when he had finished.

   "The language is similar enough to my own that I can make it out. He asks us to forgive his people for firing at us. It was a grave error."

    "Why did they fire at us, Montaro?"

     This is their jungle, and they have sworn to keep all intruders out. But they see now that we are emissaries from the Gods. They know from the Staff of Power, and that we walk in the company of a jaguar whose coat shines like the full moon. And you Jana, of the white hair, and green eyes, a girl who runs with the great white cat, they have never seen your like before either. The two white men they are more suspicious of, as they are too like the other seekers who have come to their land before. But they will remain safe as long as they are in our company."

     "What about Ben?"

    "They will allow us to treat him."

     Montaro opened Dr. Cooper's medical kit, and applied the anit-vehnom. The poison of the arrow-poison frogs was especially potent—it is easily fatal once it enters the system of most small prey. On an adult man, the affect was far less severe, at least of the variety carried on the pygmies' darts. The pygmy Indians allowed Ben to rest for several minutes, then they were able to carry him to the pygmies' village, where they were able to treat him further with antidotes made from special herbs. In the presence of Jana, Ghost, and Montaro they were treated with respect and reverence.

     Many of the small children—the eight and nine year olds among them were barely over three feet high—took a great interest in Ghost. The adults, too, were awed into hushed reverence at the presence of the white jaguar. Jana spoke reassuring words to them, and coaxed some of the village children to approach the cat and stroke his sides and along his neck and strong back, even to give him a good scratch behind the ears. Ghost purred rumbling ly and nuzzled some of the kids, allowing them to continue to pet him. He even tried licking some of them, though Jana restrained him, fearing the bristles on the cat's tongue might leave sores open to infection.

     That night they shared the chief's hut, and Ben recovered swiftly. The chief had been at first suspicious of the strangers in their land, and of the girl who walked with the great white jungle cat, but he agreed to allow them to stay, since his warriors insisted they must be emissaries of the gods.

   Then, sometime during the night, Jana was roused. Ghost was on his feet in an instant. The others were rousing groggily. The chief appeared in the doorway to the room he shared with his wife and children. They heard the screams of terrified villagers out there in the night, and the baah-baahing of panicked livestock. "What is happening?" asked Jana.

    The chief said something to Montaro. "He says the great serpent is attacking the village. The great beast of the river."

     "What?!" asked Ben. "You mean that thing's real?"

    "I don't know." Said Jana. "But we'll see. Come on, Ghost."

    The white jaguar roared a challenge to whatever was the source of the commotion out there in the dark. They dashed out into the night. Villagers were running for cover. Those who had ventured outside their huts to see the source of the commotion now panicked. Women grabbed their over-curious children, and ran inside. Those assigned to guard the livestock were running in terror crying in their native tongue,"The great serpent! He great serpent of the river is upon us!"

The chief's warriors had seized their spears and were running to the attack. Jana and Ghost followed them.

     As they neared the animal pen, Jana gasped as she saw it. Several of the small Indian warriors, armed with spears and flaming brands faced a gigantic, swaying shape, as the goats herded themselves together in fear. It was mostly lost in shadow, so Jana could not see it very clearly but it did appear to be a giant reptile or serpent of some kind, much larger then the anaconda they had run into earlier, of such proportions that it stunned the jungle girl's senses. She raced near then stopped, as her brave heart contorted in fear for one of the few times in her life.  She held her ground, but never had she looked upon a monster such as the one she now faced.

   The beast had swayed its enomormous trunk in her direction. The warriors still attempted to beat it back to wherever it had come from. It now towered over her, the great length of its arching neck painted garishly in the dancing light thrown by the men's torches. It appeared much like an anaconda, but it was far more gaudily patterned than that snake, it scales decorated with blotches of cherry-red, surrounded by indigo rosetted, its shiny, gleaming-scaled length was a chartreuse green. The top of its flat, wedge-shaped head was similarly decorated. The enormous head was nearly the size of that of a horse.

   It was a monster out of fantasy, a creature out of a nightmare, that slowly lowered its head toward Jana.

    The jungle girl did not run as the creature trained one cold, ophidian eye upon her.

   "Slithor." Jana said. "Slithor, listen to me. Do not harm these people. Go back to the river where you belong."

   A great, slick crimson tongue flicked out of the serpent's jaws and flicked in the air for a few moments, as though tasting the strange being who stood before him.

  The warriors had fallen silent, and were now staring in awe. Beside her, Jana felt Ghost voice a rumble deep within his throat. "No, Ghost," she cautioned. "Wait."

    The serpent stared at her for several seconds, then swung away. The warriors yelled and tired again to jab the serpent's enormous trunk with their spears. Jan saw that they had already fired a number of arrows into the beast, apparently with no affect. The serpent hissed thunderously at the men then plunged back into the jungle night in the direction of the river. The Nuravi warriors looked at Jana and Ghost in awe.

   Montaro rushed up to her side. "That snake." He said. "It was real. I'd heard tales of it—or others that were like it—from my boyhood. I thought I believed them. But I realize I didn't until now. But I am much surprised that you were able to communicate with him, Jana."

     "Why is that, Montaro?"

     "Because such creatures are not of the natural world, or so my father, and tribal elders told me. Remember the Creature of Darkness worshiped by the Katuchi?"

   "Oh, yes."

   "You could not communicate with that monster, because it was not of the natural world. and would not respond to the language of nature. It was created by sorcery, by the black arts which are forgotten to all but a very few tribes if any. The Katuchi, being one of the non-human races from before Man, may still have possessed the forgotten arts."

    Jana looked at him. "What do you mean Montaro? How was it "created." Do you mean it was some kind of unnatural mutation?"

    Montaro nodded. "Something like that. The creature of the Katuchi was perhaps made—or mutated, as you and Ben might say, from an ordinary reptile, such as an iguana. This the giant serpents of old were mutated from ordinary jungle snakes, like constrictors, or rainbow boas. This creature was almost certainly once an anaconda."

    "But how did it get like this? Who mutated it."

   "That I do not know. Nor do I know how you could communicate with it."

   "It seemed a little difficult." Jana admitted. "Not like the snake in the river, and other animals.  It was like I had difficulty getting him to understand."

    "It may be that there is enough of the natural still in this serpent that he understood you. The Katuchi's creature had been transformed into an entirely new animal than whatever it originally had been. And it was totally under the control of the Katuchi's pipes."

   "That may be. But do you think someone could be controlling this monster?"

   Montaro shrugged. "It is possible Jana."

   They turned and walked back toward the chief's hut. Some of the warriors followed, but at a respectful distance. They were whispering among themselves, not sure what it make of what had transpired.

   "Who, then?" Jana asked.

   "Do not repeat this," said Montaro. "but I would suspect the chief. I can tell for my words with him, that he is a weak man, who seeks to rule his people by fear. Perhaps he is indeed the one who controls the serpent."

    "But why would he send the serpent to attack his own village? That doesn't make sense."

   "Perhaps he wished to blame the attack on our presence here" Montaro speculated. Jana had to agree he had a point. But the next day the chief congratulated them for having driven off the serpent, stating that "truly they must be emissaries from the gods." But this time Jana, Too, sensed something about the chief that made her not trust him. Montaro said the chief wished to rule these people by fear. But somehow it seemed as though the man as fearful of something himself

  The next day spent in the village, Jana began to notice things.

           Most of the rugs and pottery in the village looked native made. But there were other items, which gave her cause for curiosity. Among these were large vases, and urns, which looked like they had been forged in a kilm, the like of which she did not see in the village. Then there were certain clothes and textiles that she felt quite sure had been spun on a loom, and were not hand-woven.

     And then there were the coins, which Ben was able to procure from the chief. They were made of gold and copper. There did not appear to be an abundance of gold or copper jewelry among these people, and no sign of metalworking. They must have been traded from another tribe. And Montaro had found out that these secretive people did not trade with any neighboring tribes except in times of dire stress, with the exception of one tribe in particular tribe with whom they carried on a trade on an annual basis. This tribe gave them many of the textiles, and the metal coins, among other things, and these items were prized above all else. These people inhabited a country, which lay to the west, beyond the rim of the great crater. Their country was called the Vale of Hidden Men, for they seldom left it, except to trade, and occasional secure captives, for some unguessed rituals. The never took captives from the Forest Pygmies, or the Nuravi, as they called themselves, because they were on friendly terms with them.

   Realizing that these people knew a way around the vale of Hidden men, Montaro and Jana were finally able to persuade the chief to allow one of his warriors to guide them around the vale. With some measure of reluctance, he agreed.

   The man sent with them was named Aru, and he was chief among the Nuravi warriors. He was rumored to have killed a jackari with only a flint knife. And though a jackari is a small version of a crocodile, for so diminutive a warrior, it was an impressive accomplishment. They asked Aru what he knew of the Vale of Hidden men, and what the people who dwelt there were like.

    "They are strange men." The young warrior replied. "unlike any other tribe. They have strange skills, and can make things like no one else. Myself, I have never seen them. But plenty of our people have. They say the men of the vale have bodies that flash like armor, and we believe they must have strange powers to do the things they do. Some say they are truly spirits in the form of men. That is why we fear ever to break trade with them."

    "So that is why you have a truce with the vale men." Jana mused., beginning to suspect the reason for the chief's fear."

    "They have many things that we desire and prize above all else." Aru explained. "and we have no desire to break our true. But if we did so, terrible things might happen. The summer rains might flood our village, or they could send famine to destroy our crops. Some Spirits can control the weather, you know, so we have to be careful not to offend them. And then there is the Great Serpent of the River. The beast you sent away the other night. Some say it is the ruler of the Vale Men who controls it. At first, our chief believed it was he who set the beast upon us because we had taken strangers into our midst. You see, the most important task we must do for the Hidden Men is never allow strangers near their land. They do not wished to be discovered by outsiders. When the Great Serpent has attacked our village, it was because we allowed stranger to intrude too close to the vale. But as you were able to ward off the monster we know you indeed speak for the gods, and we have nothing to fear from you."

     "And have any of your people been beyond the great rock wall—into the vale itself."

     "A few have those who have traded with the vale men on a regular basis. The chief himself has been inside the vale on occasion. He says he has seen the Vale Men's city…."

      "They have a City?"

     "Yes. A great and grand one, it is told.  It is called Tyrion, City of Jaguars, ruled by a king named Tyrus. He is the leader of whom I spoke. The chief claims to have met with him. The city lies beyond the stone wall and across the Gorge of Jaguars. Anyone who goes there who is not wanted will be eaten by the beasts."

     They resumed their trek, and Aru led them around the vast escarpment. On the evening of the third day however, Aru informed them that he would go no further. He had shown them the way, and tomorrow he would return to his village.

   They slept soundly that night, but in the morning they got a rude awakening.

   They found themselves surrounded by apparently hostile Nuravi warriors, with arrows and blowguns trained on them. The chief was there as well, grinning nastily at them. Aru was there too, his own bow trained on them.

    "Leave us alone!" aid Jana. "We are your friends. We told you we mean you and your people no harm."

    "I don't think they're listening," said Richardson.

   "But what happened? Did we offend them some way?"

    "Isn't it obvious?" said Richardson, pointing at Aru. "That little bugger there betrayed us!" Aru, for his part, looked a bit embarrassed by the accusation, as though he did not like what was happening, but returned the man's gaze as best he could.

    "Then I will ask them—" Montaro said, reaching for his fabled staff. "Wait! The Staff of Power! Where is it?"  he searched the ground frantically. Some of the Nuravi laughed at his confusion.

   "I have it, brave warrior." Said the chief. Montaro looked and saw that he spoke the truth.

    "You are in the Gods favor no longer, now that I possess your fabled staff."

   "You must return it," Montaro warned. "only one of my lineage may wield that staff."

    The chief laughed. "Not anymore. I now hold the power of the gods in my hands. Now you will do as I say."

    Montaro noticed that some of the warriors seemed reluctant, but were more afraid not to obey the chief. It had been the chief who had coveted Montaros' staff, and he must have arranged this entire thing, they now realized. But his followers had no choice but to obey.

    "What do you mean to do with us?" asked Jana.

    "Like I told you. We trade once a year with the men of the vale. This is that time of year. And you are our trade items. Go quietly and you shall not be harmed. The Men of the Vale will look on us with much favor to bring them these humans with strange powers, the girl who talks to serpents, and a white jaguar. Outcrops shall flourish. "

    Montaro, Ben, Jana, Ghost Tiko, and Richardson were marched along the side of the towering escarpment, in the way they had intended to continue, until they reached a narrow fissure in the cliff wall. This the chief told them was the entrance to the Vale of Hidden Men.

    "Now go on!" the pygmy chief told them in his native language. Montaro translated. Soon they had disappeared into the crack, and darkness swallowed them up.

     They ventured deeper and deeper within the vast cavern. Formations embedded with crystal rose all around them. At last, they emerged on what could only be the other side of the cliff. A rock formation spanned a deep gorge. Prodding them with their spears the Nuravi escorted Jana and her friends across. The gorge was filled trees, and the steep, craggy sides were lined with creepers and lianas. Some deep-throated roars shook the sides, of it, and Jana and her friends peered into its depths.

     "Look!" shouted Richardson. "Jaguars!"

     And he as right. The bottom of the gorge was filled with snarling, pacing jaguars. The overhead sun slanted through the trees into the depths below, to splash on the gorgeous, rosetted coats of the snarling. golden cats, and shimmer glossily on the midnight coats of the black ones. They began to congregate below the mighty stone bridge, turning their emerald gaze up at the new group of interlopers being forcibly led across the span. They roared with fangs barred at the sight of the ghostly-coated member of their species. Though the mighty cats had likely been raised together and were tolerant of one another. But any new member of the cat tribe to venture onto their turf was greeted with fresh hostility. Ghost snarled back, hissing and spitting in feline contempt greeting his fellows in turn.

     "By God!" exclaimed Richardson. "This really is a gorge of jaguars!"

    "Yes." Said Ben. "looks like Aru told us the truth about that one. So maybe there really is a city."

   "I would bet on it." Said Montaro. "We shall see."

     "Indeed there is," the chief replied. "As you shall soon see. The jaguars are the pets of king Tyrus. They do well in keeping intruders from this land. There are tunnels leading from the gorge into his royal palace. He only releases a few of them into the gorge at each day and night. Sometimes he allows them to hunt their own pray, and he release deer and pigs into the gorge for them to feed on. That does not mean they are above feasting on the flesh of intruders if it gives his majesty the pleasure." He added with a touch of malice.

    When they were across the gorge, and the roaring of the great cats subsided.  They found themselves on the edge of a broad fertile plain, in the exact center of which was a vast lake. The reedy edges of the lake were frequented by droves of waterfowl, egrets, cranes and flocks of scarlet ibis. And on its shores was a sizable village . The hoses were made of stone mortor with grass roofs. They could see people at work in the fields of maize, or tending flocks of sheep. There were also some oddly dressed shepherds herding small animals that looked like a small species—or perhaps breed—of tapir. These people wore colorful tunics and skirts of what looked like dyed wool. They were indisputably red men, though of a tribe neither Jana nor Montaro had even heard of.

   "Those people are the Kermaxas." The chief explained. "They live their own life in the vale along with the people of Tyrus. They are servants and bodily guards. They are allowed to follow their own ways as long as they do not interfere Thrionian law."

    Jana wondered. This chief was showing himself to be more informed about this mysterious country then they had been led to believe. She observed the houses of the Kermaxes. Some of them were conversing in a dialect that somehow did not sound native in origin at all. The architecture, too though basically native in design, bore the influence of some unknown foreign culture. It somewhat reminded her of the Indian village in the valley of the Amazoni. The tribe who dwelt there were totally subservient to the giant race of blonde female warriors who presided over that country. The Amazoni were of ancient Greek descent, with a Teutonic strain somewhere in their lineage, and the architecture of their city clearly demonstrated this, though the influence of native cultures had left their stamp as well. There was also something of the Greek in the dwellings of the natives who were servants to the warrior women.

    It was the Amazoni who had unwittingly given the Amazon river their name. It happened by accident when the Spanish Explorer Francisco de Ortanella had sailed from the Peruvian Andes to the Atlantic. He heard tales among the Indians of a tribes of white-skinned female warriors, who inhabited a wall city somewhere deep in the jungle., and even claimed to have encountered them himself. Later explorations of the river turned up no evidence of any such warriors, and Franciso's tale had been scoffed at ever since, evidence of the unreliability of traveler's tales. But the Amazoni were real. Montaro's people had known of their presence for centuries, and Jana had seen them with her own eyes. There was no doubt that Old World cultures had crossed the Atlantic at various pints in ancient history, and settled in the Americas. Some of these settlements may have died off some time in the past. Others, it seemed were still thriving. And here was other such culture, though its origins still escaped her.

    Out across the vivid blue of the lake were the unbelievable forms of sailing ships. No  modern vessels these, but ancient seafaring craft of a vanished world. They were fat-hulled and slim-prowed affairs, apparently fishing vessels of some sort. And they sails striped in blue and red, and bore standards of eagles dragons and serpents. Jana thought she saw men on boar tossing nets in to the waters, which evidently were teeming with fish.

    And beyond the lake was the City of Tyrion itself.—a collection of soaring towers and battlements, of columns of purest ivory whiteness, and domed with gold that flashed and burnished in the sum.

   Then they saw that one of the boats was approaching them on the lake.

    It was not so large as the others, but still it bore a strong mast and sail, bearing the standard of an eagle with wings outstretched.

     There were men on board. The ones in the for of the craft wore robes and togas. The man at the head of the prow wore a white, purple-bordered robe, and a toga of the same royal purple. His skin was clearly white, like those of his compatriots, but there was a certain ruddy cast to it. His hair , like all the men was deep black, and appeared well-oiled, and his eyes were dark, and penetrating as he gazed upon the Nuravi and their captives. The other men in the boat also wore robes, of green red and blue, which had obviously not been fashioned in a simple native village. And situated behind them were four men clad in steel armor, and helmets with iron swords naked from their scabbards—clearly representative of the men who attacked Richardson's party. Other men were in the boat as well, rowing the boat toward the shore. These were obviously slaves or servants of some sort, and there were both red and white men among their number.

   When the boat came to rest on the shore, the man in front who appeared to be a leader of sorts, said, "Ah, chief Unragorrah. You do us great honor." There was a subtle but unmistakable tinge of

Mockery to the man's words.  "And what have brought for his majesty's tribute this year? Some tame macaws for his menajory? Mayhap some more bushels of maize? It looks like you've netted a few fish of the human sort."

    The man's dialogue was lost on Montaro and Jana. But Ben was vaguely familiar with the tongue that he understood the gist of what the man was saying. But where could he have heard the dialect before? In his study of ancient languages in college, most lilely, but he still couldn't place it. He could speak fluent Hebrew, and there was something of that dialect in the man's speech, along with a bit of the Greek as well, but it was also far removed from the modern dialects of both tongues.

     "I bring you these strangers, my lord." Answered the chief of the Nuravi, bowing low. "They were trespassing on our land. As you can plainly see, they are different from any strangers we have disposed of in the past. So we took the liberty of capturing them and bringing them to you."

    "I see." Said the man, looking over the four captives, and the white jaguar. "There is nothing out of the ordinary that I can see about any of the men. Two white strangers garbed like all the other intruders in our realm. Obviously treasure seekers here to exploit our wealth. And the red-skin is a common warrior whom you should have killed outright, along with the other two."

     "He is not ordinary, my lord!" cried Unragorrah hastily. "Not only is he a brave strong warrior who would make in ideal slave, he came to our village with this," he held out the Staff of Power. "It is a magic staff that holds strong medicine within."

    "Does it?" the man took the spear and looked it over. At first he appeared skeptical, but as he examined the spear, he became impressed. "These markings along the shaft –I believe I recognize them. They are ancient symbols of power. You did well to bring me the staff. I will have Tyrus look at it. But the warrior you should have disposed of. I'm afraid your payment is going to be rather paltry this year."

    Unragarroah looked up pleadingly--though it this news that made him do so. Obviously, he had wanted to keep the Staff for himself. It was Montaro he hoped to offer as tribute.

     "My lord," he asked, "May I not keep the staff? I have a tribe to govern and have need of its powers. This warrior  is very fine and will serve Tyrus well."

     The robed man looked at him with regal anger flashing in his eyes. "Silence, fool! Just for that I should have you fed to the jaguars! So you intended to cheat King Tyrus of his tribute did you, you pathetic, blathering idiot?"

    "No, no!" cried the Unragaorah. "I would never cheat his royal majesty! I only wanted—"

    "So you're a liar as well!" observed the man. "You know what? I think I will have you fed to the royal jaguars—that is, if it so pleases His Royal Highness once he learns that you betrayed him! Guards! Arrest this man!"

   Two men in armor started forward.

     Unragorrah screamed.

    "No!" cried Jana, though not understanding the language, realizing that this man was about to have the chief arrested."No! Leave this man alone!" She jumped between the guards, and Unragorrah. In a flash, Ghost was beside her. The mighty jaguar roared a challenge to the armored guards, who stepped back, fear starting in their eyes.

    "This man has a family to look after." Jana told him. "He may be a weak chief, but he has a wife and children to look after. I will not allow you to take him." Beside her Ghost roared in answer. She was not certain if the man understood her—infact she was reasonably certain he didn't, but she hoped she had made her point clear—that they wouldn't allow them to capture the chief without a fight.

    The purple-robed man stepped back, astonishment showing on his features. Jana expected his next reaction to be one of rage, but it turned to one of admiration mixed with mild amusement.

    "Welll," he said. "The female is a worthy catch. I'll grant you that, Unragorrah.  A young she clad in only an animal skin, white tresses like the sun at midday? And such fire, such spirit! You don't see courage like that often, in either a man or a woman! And the great white cat—well, I admit I've never seen such an impressive animal before! He will be a welcome addition to the royal menagerie. Perhaps I'll let you go after all." He quickly motioned to the guards, who lowered their swords and stepped back.

     Ghost snarled up at the man belligerently, ivory muzzle wrinkling back for formidable teeth.

    "You won't take Ghost." Warned Jana. "I won't allow you to make him into one of your trained beast."

    The robed man only sneered at her, and motioned the chief and his Nuravi warriors off. "Don't try to cheat his majesty again," he warned, "Or next time, you may not be so lucky."

     The armed guards ushered all of them into the boat. "Now, as for you cat, young lady." The purple robed man said. He raised an arm and four guards rushed toward them on the deck, brandishing thick ropes. They lassooed Ghost snaring the jaguar about his thick neck and foretlimbs. The cat, spit and thrashed, swiping with his talons. But these men were accomplished animal handlers, trained to restrain wild beasts for the arena. Jana protested loudly and rushed forward to aide her friend, but the armed guards retrained. The jungle girl thrashed wildly, but the men still held her fast.

    "So you're a feisty one are you, are you?" laughed the robed man , his voice thick with arrogance. "We'll see how much fight you have in you when you're added to King Tyrus's harme.

   The guards hauled Ghost into an iron cage. At a command form the robed official, the baot pushed offand swung around on a course toward the beckoning city. They sailed across the breadth of the lake. They neared the glistening towers of the gold-and-ivory metropolis that took up the entirety of the great island in the center of the lake.

  It was then that Ben Cooper realized; he recongnized from the city's arcitecture, what the dialect of these people must be, and who they were. Their culture was that of ancient Phoenicia-these people were Phoenicians!

      "Richardson—" he said. "It just came to me who these people are.'

    "Yes—they're survivors of an ancient Phoenician colony—they must be. I've read all about their ancient culture. They were the original Canaanites of the Bible, and the founders of the ancient city of Carthage, among others. They were a marentine culture—that explains the fishing rigs. But how do you suppose they got here?"

    "I have no idea," said Ben. "But there's been plently of speculation about Phoenecian culture on New World civilizations. And they were well known for their seafaring capabilities along the shores of the ancient Medateranian. If any of the people of that area where capable of making a voyage across the Atlantic, they were." 

    As they traveled over the clear blue sparkling water, they saw that it was indeed teaming with fish of all sorts, doubtless bred and released into the lake for commercial purposes. Most fish were small and silver, in tremendous schools, though there were a number of immense Barramundi fish as well, the largest among them nearly the size of Ghost. Tiko scampered off Jana's shoulder to the rim of the rig, where he peered into the water at the teeming piscine multitudes. Fish, after all, were his favorite food.

   "Do not jump overboard, Tiko." Jana warned." You would become separated from the rest of us."

    Tiko chattered back at her, them peered back into the dizzying blue depths of the lake. A huge grayish-white shape, larger then all the others swam up to the side of the boat. A long-nosed head poked through the waterand squirted a jet of water onto Tiko. The yapok squealed and tumbled backward, her fur drenched by the cold spray. Tiko screamed "Chee! Chee!" at the intruder.

     Jana laughed slightly, in spite of their prediciment. "Do not be angry Tiko. I think he was trying to be friendly." The animal that had squirted Tiko was an Indus dolphin, a freshwater species that frequented the Amazon. The dolphin chattered at her in almost a playful manner. "AAAA-ooooh!" called Jana. The dolphin chattered in answer, then disappeared beneath the water. The purple robed man looked at Jana with some suspician, then away.

     As Jana watched, she saw more of the aquatic mammals swimming through the water. She realized that she might call them to her, have them overturn this boat, free them from their captors. But where would they go? They were already in the middle of the huge lake, and they could never make it shore before one of the other vessels overtook them.

   "Do you have some means of talking to animals, girl?" she heard theircaptor ask.

     "I speak to them in the language of nature." She answered.

   "His majesty, I am certain, will take great interest in you."

   Tiko climbed to her shoulder and scolded the man in annoyance.

   "You and quiet that little water rat." said the man. "Or you may lose him."

   "You won't harm Tiko while I'm still alive." Anawered Jana.

      "You are a brave girl, I'll give you that. We will see how long your bravery holds out."

    They reached the dock. A garrison of armed men greeted them. They, too, were clad in armor plate, and the two captains wore a sash and robes, again of deep purple hue. Their garb was not unlike that of the Roman Centurions. All of them carried iron spears and swaords. Jana guessed they were the king's royal guards. And the purple-sashed captian held on a chain leash a trio of huge splendid-coated royal jaguars, who strained snarling upon their leashes, barring fangs and blazing eyes. Jana remembered that Queen Nigra's Amazons had trained pumas to do their bidding. Among the Hidden Men of the Vale, it seemed Jaguars were favored as pets and guard animals. Ghost snarled back at them as his cage was borne ashore.

     The guard captain gave a salute. "Ho Nephretus, ambassator to His Majesty. What tribute did the savages bring for his royal highness?"

    "They brought these strangers." Nephretus answered. "Two white treasure-seekers, a red-skinned warrior from an unknown tribe, and this peculiar white female who can talk with beasts, and her great white jungle cat."

    "Aaaah" murmured the captian. "This is not what I was expecting, but an most unusual catch, I must say. Especailly the cat.  With the proper training he will make an excellent attack animal. Or mayhap his majesty will consign such a unique specimen to his menajory. We shall see."

    The guards accompanied them through the streets of the ancient city. Marvels of the ancient world were everywhere. Merchants and markets proffered goods under the striped awnings. There were many sellers of fish, whicker baskets stuffed to their brim with their silver catches. Some were hawking barrels filled with crabs, shrimp, or other sea-food,. There were jewelers proffering finely-cut gemstones, and exquisite carvings of jade, onyx, and gleaning jasper, depicting monsters and divintity figures. Other merchants sold textiles, richly woven carpets, purple-dyed wool, and clothes of many colors, chiefly red, blue and purple. Others sold vases, urns and other pottery, some glazed and embellished with scenes of heroes battling fantastic monsters, or of gods, dragons or demons, or idyllic scenes from edenic myths. There was a weapons smythy, from which came the clanking and hammering of the smiths forging out swords and spears, and the shrp sent of molten metal, and billowing louds of gray smoke billowed forth. Other hawkers sold fruits, pineapples,maize, tomatoes, pumpkins, and sugar cane, as well as freshly baked fruit pastries. There were livestock for sale as well, goats, sheep, pigs, the dwarf tapirs they had seen earlier, and wild turkeys, as well as tame spider monkeys, and macaws, which squawked in rauceous annoyance as they passed by . There were many plain-robed commoners on the streets, and a few members of the jaded rich as well. All the inhabitants wore sandals and togas. Not a few of them cast curious glances at the party of  royal guards with their strange captives as they passed by. There were a few other guards patrolling the streets as well, and the captain saluted them as they passed by. These guards, obviously meant to maintain order in the streets, were also accompanied by trained jaguars.

    At length they reached the rich portion of the city. Here were the mansions of the noble familys of Tyrion. And the royal palace itself. The gates swung open and they entered down a vast hall flanked at intervals with porcelain statues of heroes of past ages. At last, they reached the throne room itself.

The marble-tiled floor was coverd with luxuriant carpets of rich red and royal purple, and with the skins of jaguars and ocelots. The marble pillars which supported the room were inlaid with gold and lapis-lazuli. A number of great jaguars, four spotted, and another black, lounged on the floor, obviously tame pets. Four, beautiful women lounged in the chamber as well, lying on the marble steps, and standing around in a group whispering one another as the strangers were brought within the throne room. All of the women were dark-haired, dark-eyes, and dusky skinned. The throne had a series of polished steps of alabaster marble leading up to it. On the throne itself sat an imposing figure who was clad in a scarlet tunic and another deep purple robe. Upon his brow was a ruby-jeweled curclet of hammered gold. He held in one hand a gold goblet of crimson wine, doubtlessly brewed from his finest vineyards. His dark, deep-set eyes flashed terribly, imperiously, as he gazed upon his guard captain and the four strangers.

   He was none other than Tyrus IV, monarch of the vale of Hidden Men.

    "Your royal highness," said the guard captain,  "We bring these interlopers from unknown outlands, as tribute from the Nuravi savages."

   "I am not sure what to make of the men, oh, majesty," said Nephretus, "But the blonde woen has a strange gift. She can speak to the animals."

    Tyrus raised an eyebrow at this. "Is that so? I hope, for your sake, that you do not exaggerate, Nephretus. You know what might happen if that were to occur."

    "Yes, your highness." The once haughty ambassador lowered his gaze.

     "Then allow the female to demonstrate her powers."

    Jana stepped forward. "I will show you, oh king." She told him "If you allow myself and these others to go free."

   Ben Cooper stepped forward and translated Jana's words for the King.

     Tyrus laughed. "You will show me," he said, "so that I do not mhave you and your friends skewered on sword point this instant."

    Jana realized she really had little choice. There was no way they could escape at the moment. But to demonstrate to the king what she was capable of she called to the tame brirds, a couple of gold-and-blue macaws preched on a nearby stand. "AAAAAAH-ooooooh! Pichu! To me Pichu!" the birds fluttered acroos the royal chamber to light on the girl's outstretched arm.

   "Rah! Rah!" she said to the great jaguars who shared the king's chamber. The mighty spotted felines got up and padded over to Jana. They began licking the jungle girls' palm with the utmost affection.

    "Impressive, I must say." Agreed Tyrus, gasping. "I have not seen the like. These great cats obey only me. But what of this great white cat my warriors have captured."

    Ben Cooper translated for jana.

    "He is Ghost, my white jaguar. He will not harm you. I demand you set him free."

    "The beast is yours?" Tyrus asked.

     Ben translated again.

     "I raised him from a cub."

    "It is so, majesty," said Nephretus. "This Girl walks with the great jungle cat. I have seen it myself."

     "Silence! Let the girl speak. You are the cat's mistress, you can make him obey you.?"

     Jana's gaze hardened. "Ghost is not a pet—he is like a brother to me. He stays with me because he so chooses. He is my friend."

   Ben translated for Tyrus.

     "Then I have made my decision." Tyrus said. "You all will prove yourselves in the arena. If you are friends with the big cat, we will see how if the both of you can handle the Slithering God. If you prevail, then you have earned your freedom."

    Jan a rasied an eyebrow. "And that of the others as well?"

     "You have my word."

      'We also found this among them, your majesty." Said Nephretus, with head bowed as he presented Montaro's magic staff. "I believe your royal personage should take a look at it."

   King Tyrus leaned forward as he gazed at the Staff of Power. "What is magic about this stick? It is a ceremonial war-spear, nothing more. Perhaps the "savages consider it magic—"

    "Allow me, your highness." Said Montaro, stepping forward. The guards moved to mrestrain him.

    "No!" commanded Tyrus. "if this stick really does have powers, allow the warrior to demonstrate."

    Montaro grasped his Staff, and held it aloft. He muttered a few words in the arcane tongue. At once curling flames burst forth in a shower of orange sparks at the base of the staff. The guards,  the harem girls and even the king gasped and sighed in awe. Montaro spoke some more words, and the fire fizzled out.

   "Indeed, warrior, forces of magic do reside within your weapon. My court magician would have great use of such a stick. With it, you put him to shame. But for now, I will allow you to keep it for when you fight the Slithering God. I wish to see how it will be used then. Guards, take the men to the royal dungeons, and the cat to my exotic menagerie. As for the blonde girl, put her in my harem. But do not fret, outlanders. For you all shall be united shortly." 

     The days Jana spent with King Tyrus's harem girls were uneventful. She was allowed to wonder the palace wing where the harem girls were allowed.  She had little success communicating with them for most of them spoke the dialect of ancient Phoenician  that she was unable to understand. There were a few Indian women among them as well, and jana understood enough of their native tongues to communicate. One Indian woman named Mara told Jana that she was to be her tutor in learning the language of the vale men. They spent many hours in the palace library, pouring over the scrolls, until Jana could speak a crude form of their dialect. Jana also discovered that some of the scrolls told the history of these people, and how they came to the Vale. Apparently, they were descendent of a party of Phoenician mariners who had blown off course, and wondered the sea for months, until they  landed on the shores of Brazil many centuries ago. They tracked inland, and founded this city, along with numerous others on both continents. There were wars between them and the native civilizations, as well as a few with other foreign cultures who had made their way into this land. At last empire of Cuzco sacked their remoining cites, and they retreated here to this vale, where they founded Tyrion, the last remnant of a once rich empire. Their other cities captured, and their people dilated with the bloodlines of the native people, the men of the vale saought to preserve their people and their culture. But as time went on, the royal family became inbred, with a weakness for insanity and despotism. The last four kings had been tyrants, hated by all the populace. But so stuck in the old ways were these people, that they were refused to organize a revolt.

      "So you have been selected to entertaining Tyrus against the Slithering God." Mara told Jana. "That is most unfortunate. But you say you can communicate with animals. If that is true, then perhaps Tyrus seeks to test your skills."

    "I believe he does." Jana admitted.

    "Then perhaps it will please him to let you live." Mara told her. "Otherwise he should not have put you among his harem."

    Jana kept wondering just what this slithering God was. Perhaps it was another fabled creature such as that of the Katuchi, or the river serpent.  From the scrolls, she had learned that the kings Tyrion had a long practice of magic—not just among their mourt wizards, but among the royalty itself. From the writings, Jana knew it could not possibly be sorcery from the Old World; it had to be some kind of magic gleaned from the local Indian tribes—and it included the power to transform animals into monsters by reciting certain incantations. In fact, sorcery must have been fairly prevalent on the continent at the time the Phoenicians arrived, for them to have retained such a mastery of it, even after it had been forgotten by most tribes.

    While she was wondering among King Tyrus's gardens, Jana heard a voice whispering to her from behind a rose bush.

   "Jana….are you the one called Jana?" he asked.

  "Yes ……that is me." She answered, turning to see who it was who had spoken.

     A robed young man who somewhat resembled a younger version of  Tyrus himself, stepped out from behind the bush. "My name is Prince Ibor. I am nephew to King Tyrus. I will ascend to thrown myself  if death claims King Tyrus."

     "And what do you want with me?" Jana asked.

     "I wanted to meet the girl with hair like the sun whop can talk with animals."

     "So now you've met her."

     "Is to true what they say about you?" Ibor asked.

    "Depends on what they say."

     "That you can talk to birds…and my uncle's cats."

     "I speak the language of nature. It is a tongue all of nature understands."

    "I don't suppose you could teach it to me?" Ibor asked.

     "Then don't."

     "I…..am sorry about how you and your friends have been treated by my family. I would like to help you escape."

    Jana realized that perhps here was the break they had been waiting for-as long as ibor was sincere. "If that is so, Ibor," she said. "do you know how to free my friends, that we might leave this city?"

    "Not now I don't. But perhaps I can find a way. The don't entirely trust me….."

     "Why is that. Because I have been accused of conspiring with my sister and some noblmen who are on the senate to overthrow Tyrus."

     Jana drew nearer to Ibor, and looked around to make certain their conversation was not overheard. "Are the accusations true."

     "Well, to tell you the truth, my lady…partly, yes."

     "I am rather glad to hear it, Tybor."

     Tiko, who had been searching for shiny objects in the garden, climbed to Jana's shoulder and chattered.

     "A water possum!" exclaimed Ibor. "Is it yours?"

    'Well, yes. Tiko comes and goes as she pleases. But tell me about your uncle."

      "Tyrus is a tyrant—everyone knows it. He destroys all those who displease him in some small way. Some men on the senate are seeking to replace him with me. To tell you the truth Lady Jana, you are lucky you took Tyrus's fancy. Otherwise you might have been fed to the jaguars, or sentenced to death in the arena."

    "I am sentenced to the arena, along with my friends."

   "Perhaps. But I doubt whatever happens, Tyrus will allow you or your white cat to be killed. The men may not be so lucky, I fear."

   "Ghost? You know of him?"

   "Of course I know of him. The palace is in an uproar over the discover of you strangers. Probably the whole of Tyrion knows. Tyrus's court wizard believes that your white cat is a blessing from the gods."

     "I've heard that before. But tell me what is the 'Slithering God" we're to be sacrificed to."

     "He is the huge monster that dwells in the catacombs beneath the royal palace. Tyrus has most of the citizens believing he really is a god. He has lived for nearly a thousand years, after all.  But I know better."

    "But what is he?"

    "He is a mammoth serpent, like the great river boa, only many times his size. The royal court wizard knows the secret of making such monsters, though I've heard its lost to the world beond the cliffs. There is a special incantation among the Books of Magic in the library's secret archive that allows one to transform such monsters from an ordinary water-serpent. This particular monster has been kept alive for centuries by magic. It has swallowed many enemies of the royal family."

    Jana felt her stomach go queasy when she heard this.

   "Tyrus uses the monster to terrorize the local tribes. There is a secret passage beneath this palace that leads to an underground river. The river leads beyond the high cliffs. Tyrus sends his pet serpent through this passage to raif the village of the Nuravi, if they do something that displeases his Royall Highness."

   So that was it—that serpent that had raided the village of the Nuravi, the river beast of ancient mlegend—its home had been here inside this walled city all the time! Legends of the creature's existence had persisted over centuries in this region, baffling explorers and zoologists alike. And all the while the legends were true, for the beast had been kept immortal for ages!

   "But how does he control the serpent?"

  "He possesses a stone made of strange metal Somehow it allows him to control the serpent by means of telepathy. To tell you the truth, lady, he made a mistake the last time he sent the neast on that village, and he is trying to keep it covered up."

    "Why is that?"

    "His wizard has a special seeing-eye glass that tells him what is going on outside the city, especially in the village. The wizard told him that stranger s were approaching our land, and that the Nuravi had intercepted them. When he learned that the Nuravi had not killed the intruders, or turned them away, he sent the beast to attack their village. But he did not count on your ability to communicate with serpents. He now realizes the gods must have wished to see you spared. "

   "I see. Do you still think you find a way for us to escape."

    "Perhaps. But you will have to trust me first. If you spend some time with me, then perhaps the guards will believe I've taken a fancy to you, and will be used to seeing us together. You have seen only a small portion of the palace. Allow me to show you around the royal grounds."

    "I am confined to this one wing . The guards—"

    "The guards will allow us, so long as I am with you." Ibor assured her.

     Jana wasn't sure she trusted Ibor—not yet. He might not be like his uncle, but if the guards saw him befriending one of the prisoners, wouldn't hat make them even more suspicious?  But she decided she needed to spend more time with him, in order to get to know him.

      Ibor showed her the rest of the gardens , the weapons armory, the royal hunting park, and stables,the hall of family history, which told the entirety of the history of the Tyrionian dynasty since their arrival in the New World. Jana mused that an archeologist whould have given up his arm for twenty minutes in this place. And most especially, Ibor gave her a personalized tour of the royal zoo, or menagerie, which was open to the public three days a week.

   It was an impressive collection of wild animals, and it reminded Jana of Montezhuma's royal zoo that had once existed in Tenochtitlan, the site of modern Mexico City, ancient capital of the Aztec empire. There were cages and cages with bars of copper or gold filled with brids with gorgeous plumes—macaws, currassos toucans, hoatzins, Quetzals, ibises, and many more. There were caged pumas, sloths, armadillos, screaming capuchins, and chattering squirrel monkeys. There were artificial ponds filled with soft-shelled turtles, and myriads of colorful, exotic goldfish, and a separate pond frequented by caimans. But there were other beasts that did not seem to be part of the native fauna at all. And it was these that gave jana the most consternation. One was a small bipedal lizard that sood up and peered out through the bars of its cage in a birdlike manner. Jana bent down to look at it. No, she decided, it wasn't a lizard after all—it was a dinosaur.

    The notion shocked her tremendously, dizzying her even at she peered at the tiny creature in its cage. But that's what it was—a miniture, bipedal dinosaur.

   There was also a cage filled, not with birds but with minute flying reptiles, with beaks filled with sharp teeth and skin for wings. And then Ibor showed her a large, circular pit. Inside the pit Jana saw a large, lizardlike bipedal reptile, like a small allosaur—and that appeared to be just what it was. The young dinosaur looked up at them hungerly and gave a loud roar, displaying rows of needle-sharp teeth.

    Jana called to the dinosaur in the language of nature. The beast responded by turning its attention away from them, and on a sheep carcass that had been left in its pit as a meal.

     When Jana asked Ibor about the strange animals, he replied, "There are many other such animals. Tyrus has his animal handlers catch them and bring them here. They come from a land beyond ours, far into the valley of the Mist. There are great birds with skin for wings, great shaggy beasts with snouts like serpents, and mighty tusks, and giant cats larger than then the mightiest jaguar, with teeth like swords. King Tyrus calls them his exotics. They are far too valuable to be expended in the arena, so he places the few he captures in his menagerie as curiosities."

    Jana remembered the story of Paul Richardson's missing son. "One of my friends is looking for his missing child. Do you know the way to the valley where these animals live?"

   "Yes. But the way is difficult. I will show it to you, if we can first allow your friends to escape from the Vale."

    But the next day Jana and her friends were summoned to appear in the royal arena. It was situated behind the place and open to the public. Jana joined her companions in the cells beneath the place. Soon, the guards came and escorted them into the vast arena.

     A cheering throng greeted them. It seemed every citizen of Tyrion had come out today to see the the intruders meet their end. The four strangers were ushered into the center of the arena. Tiko was still clinging to Jana's frightened by so many poeple and all this loud noise. And from another entrance  the royal animal keepers brought out Ghost an ivory jaguar in a gold-barred cage. The great cat, too, was confused by the sight and smell of so many humans. It angered him, and he snarled. They drew back the door of the cage, and Ghost leapt out onto the white powered sands. The men held their spears and nets at the ready, as the white jaguar snarled at them.

   "Ghost! Here, to me!" Jana called. Ghost forgot the men and bounded across the hot sands until he stood next to Jana.

     "What do these people have planned for us?" Ben Cooper wondered,

     "I do not know, Ben." Montaro said. "But I do not imagine that it will be pleasant."

    Jana was not sure she should tell them what she had found from Prince Ibor—that the Slithering God was the beast of the river that had attacked the Nuravi.

   Suddenly, there was a blare of brass trumpets from the Royal Box. King Tyrus was there. Jana saw that Prince Ibor, and a man tin dark blue robes that must have been the royal court wizard were stationed beside him, in front of the royal guards. "Citizens of Tyrion!" shouted King Tyrus imperiously. His words had a calming affect on the crowd. "Today we are gathered here to witness the judgment of the Slithering God upon these four intruders form lands beyond our own.

Some of you may have heard that these three possess powers granted by the gods themselves. Now it is time to see, which, if any of them, are fit to live. Raise the gate!

     A huge gate in the center of the arena slide open loudly, hinges creaking ominously. The crowd had cheered, but now fell silent in anticipation. From the blackness within came a silibant hiss, of terrible volume. And the beast behind the gate slowly slid out into the daylight. The sun shimmered in the myriad of minute scales on the unbelievable head. It was that of an anaconda, but so huge it was stupefying.

    "By God!" exclaimed Paul Richardson. "Isn't that the same monster we saw in the Nuravi village? Or one just like it?"

    "It is!" cried Jana. "I found out from the Prince. I wasn't sure I quite believed him. But he says the king has some way of controlling the monster. He's the one who made it attack the Nuravi!"

   "Then we have to defeat it, Jana." Said Montaro. "You talked to the beast before. See if you can do it again."

     The giant serpent slid out of the opening into the arena, arrowing in the direction of the captives. It was as thought it were a bushmaster, sliding toward a group of petrified agouti. It great purple-red tongue licked the air, tasting the warmblooded pray laid out for it.

      Tiko, still perched on her shoulder, hid her eyes and quaked, as   Jana stepped forward bravely. The crowd held its collective breath. Length upon fantastic length giant serpent continued to slide out onto the arena sands. The monster was enormous—frightful! Five time the length and width of the largest anaconda the thing had to be, its incredible body ffashing and shimmering in the morning sun, as the rays glinted off its scaled immensity. The crimson-and blue rosetted which lined the serpent's vast trunk, only faintly resembling the markings of a normal anaconda, gave it a quality of garish beauty.

     The fantastic lenfgth of the serpent's head and neck rose and arched over Jana. The great, wedge-shped head lowered until it nearly was level with the jungle girl's head. Thecrowd gave a vast, collective intake of breadth.  The great reptilian head swayed to and fro above Jana, as though indescisive as to weather to swallow this prey or no.

      "Slithor!" said Jana. "Slithor, listen to me. I am your friend, Jana of the jungle. These people have enslaved you. I now set you free. Go back to your home, Slithor. Go back to your home, and do these men's bidding no longer. Go back to the great river, where there are plenty of caiman, and cpaybara, and tapir to eat, but no humans! Go Slithor!"

     The great serpent remained swaying above her, swinging hypnotically.

    "I—I don't think it's working Tiko."

    Then the monster snake unhinged his vast mouth. The mighty, reptilian jaws swung themselves pen like a miniture drawbridge, to reveal, rows upon rows of wicked, fishhook-like teeth. They were the horrid fangs of an anaconda, only on a much larger scale.

   From the wet, pinkish cavern that was its throat issued a terrible blast of putrid breath, and a thunderously loud hiss.

    Jana stepped back, realizing her attempt to communicate with this god of the river was this time not working!

     "Jana get back!" Montaro shouted, readying to throw his Staff of Power.

    But Jana was already leaping to one side as the monster struck. The giant head shot through the air as the jungle girl leaped aside. Tiko leapt off her shoulder and scampered acroos the sands, screeching wildly, until Ben Cooper caught her.  The jaws closed with a resounding snap.

    The crowd screamed.

    "Jana!" Montaro cried.

    But Ghost was there first. Fueled by his feline hatred of all things reptilian, the great gleaming cat charged across the sands in defense of Jana. With a mighty roar that all lesser beasts of the Amazon knew and feared, he  sprang straight for the giant serpent'sneck, just behind its head, the moist vulnerable portion of any snake, even one of such proportions.

    Ghost sank his fangs into the flesh of the giant serpent. The entire length of the animal went mad, its vast length flailing wildly, as it strove to dislodge the  clinging cat. The roars and shrill hissings resounded throughout the arena as the two fantastic antagonists battled.

     Jana ran to Mointaro. "I couldn't speak with it!" Jana gasped.

     "That may be because King Tyrus's hold on the creature is too strong." He said. "But call Ghost t away. Brave though he is, that is one monster that can easily crush him."

    "Ghost! Let go, and come to me!" jana called. "You cannot kill that thing!"

    The monster snake was attempting to fold the white jaguar into his glistening gargantuan coils. To Jana's utter horror, the monster got one mighty coil about the ravening jaguar, and pulled him loose. If the snake got three coils on him, Ghost was finished. But with this huge monster, even one coil might suffice to choke the breath out of him.

     Ghost roared and raked riveluts  across the mailed hide, but the snake held him fast.

    "I believe Ghost may be finished, Jana," said Montaro. "Unless…." He rasied the staff of power .

Chanted some arcane words in the ancient tongue, he cast the staff expertly it sailed through the air, almost of its own volition, to embed itself in the serpent's neck just below the mighty hinged jaws. Great whorls of clor, unleased by the Staff, swirled through the arir. The sanke reared its head, and swayed there, as if suddenly paralyzed. Its grip on Ghost slackened, and the white jaguar sprang free.

    Ghost snarled agnerly at the great reptile, his hereditary foe since time immermorial, then padded calmly across the arena sands toward Jana. He began cleaning himself.

    The jungle girl knelt beside him. "Good Ghost. You fought bravely. Breath easily. You will be fine."

    "I think you and I can now handle this snake." Montaro said. Both of them approached the great serpent, which remained paralyzed, as the crowd, including King Tyrus himself looked on in wonderment. Montaro pulled free his staff.

     The monstrous snake hissed, as it slowly recovered from the spear's magic. The great head swayed once more, as it regarded the two humans before it as food.

    "I believe whatever spell the king placed on this snake is broken." Montaro  said. "Try to talk to him again."

    "I wish to set you free Slithor." Jana said.

   The serpent hissed sharply, as though this time understanding the language of nature.

    "But before I send you back home, there is one thing I need you to do for me." She prayed silently she could make this monster understand. "That man who cast his spell on you is there." She pointed dramatically at King Tyrus., causing some raised voices from the crowd. "he is our enemy as well. I ant you to take care of him for us."

    Mircaculously, the great serpent swung away from Jana, and slid toward the box King Tyrus stood.

   Yrus stood stupefied for an instant, then screamed in terror as the long neck of the serpent arched over the arena sands to pluck him from his box. The great jaws fastened on to his robe, and lifted the struggling monarch out of the box and onto the and of the arena.

  Prince Ibor stepped up to the edge and peered down into the arena.

   Jana called up to him. "King Tyrus is finished! He will no longer use this serpent to terrorize you! She turned to address the people in the arena. "or any of the citizens of Tyrion! There is a new king a among you from this day forward! Ibor is now king of Tyrion!"

     And to the hoirrified astonishment of King Tyrus, there was a swelling of applause, which started slowly and rose out over the arena like thunder.

     "You can't do this!" cried Tyrus "You are outland prisoners, and I am king!"

    "No longer." Sad Montaro. "The popel see what jana and I have done." He reached down and took the crystal that was threaded string about Tyrus's neck. "You were controlling the beast by means of this."

    "But no longer." Said Jana. "Look!"

    Tyrus looked, and saw the guards standing behind Ibor above him. "They support me now, uncle." Ibor said. "you hold the power no longer."

    "Then why don't you let this thing eat me, then, and be done with it!"

    "No need to do that," said Jana. "Now that your life is in our hands, I prefer to allow Ibor to decide what to do with you."

    With a few words from Jana, the serpent was sent slithering back down the tunnel, finally to disappear into his native haunts beyond the underground river.

     And so it was that Jana and Montaro liberated the lost city of Tyrion from the grip of a tyrannical monarch. Ibor's supporters seized control of the Tyrionian senate, and gave him control of the monarchy. Ibor sentenced Tyrus to the dungeons, and sent Jana and her friends free. He gave them a map showing them the pass through the Mountains of the Mist into the lost world, and sent his guard to escort them out of the Vale.

    Once they were safely beyond the cliffs, Richardson made certain that here was where they would part company.

    "I will this map and go on," he said. "I've risked your lives enough. Go back to your own jungle. I must continue if I am to find what happened to my son."

     "No." said Jana. "We're in this together. We'll go on with you. There are more dangers beyond those mountains."

    "I need to do this alone."

    "I am afraid she is right." Montaro said. "We cannot allow one man to go on alone in this wilderness."

   "What about you Doc?" Richardson asked Ben.

   "I'm in this too. You will probably need me, if anyone needs medeical attention."

   Ghost agreed also with a loud "rumph!"

   "Alright, alright!" said Richardson. "Come if you must. Who am I to stop you? But there's no telling what's waiting for us ahead."

      "That's right." Said Jana, even though she now had some idea. Tiko chattered shrilly from her shoulder.

    "What is it Tiko?" Jana asked.

     The little yapok pointed. There, not a few feet away, coiled about a liana vine was a small boa constrictor, too small to be a menace even to Tiko. But the little animal hid in Jana's hair, poking his little face out .

   "I'm afraid Tiko's become a little nervous around snakes," she laughed.

                                            FIN