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289
Astounding Stories of Super-Science, August 1930
·
Various
10
"It's
a
weapon
of
the
Ancients,"
Forepaugh
explained.
"It
was
a
sort
of
family
heirloom
and
is
over
300
years
old.
One
of
my
grandfathers
used
it
in
the
famous
Northwest
Mounted
Police.
Wonder
if
it'll
still
shoot."
He
leveled
the
weapon
at
a
fat,
sightless
wriggler
that
came
squirming
through
a
seam,
squinting
unaccustomed
eyes
along
the
barrel.
There
was
a
violent
explosion,
and
the
wriggler
disappeared
in
a
smear
of
dirty
green.
Gunga
nearly
fell
over
backward
in
fright,
and
even
Forepaugh
was
shaken.
He
was
surprised
that
the
ancient
cartridge
had
exploded
at
all,
though
he
knew
powder
making
had
reached
a
high
level
of
perfection
before
explosive
chemical
weapons
had
yielded
to
the
newer,
lighter,
and
infinitely
more
powerful
ray
weapons.
The
gun
would
impede
their
progress.
It
would
be
of
very
little
use
against
the
giant
Carnivora
of
Inra.
Yet
something--perhaps
a
sentimental
attachment,
perhaps
what
his
ancestors
would
have
called
a
"hunch"--compelled
him
to
strap
it
around
his
waist.
He
carefully
packed
a
few
essentials
in
his
knapsack,
together
with
one
chronometer
and
a
tiny
gyroscopic
compass.
So
equipped,
they
could
travel
with
a
fair
degree
of
precision
toward
the
mountains
some
hundred
miles
on
the
other
side
of
a
steaming
forest,
a-crawl
with
feral
life,
and
hot
with
blood-lust.
Man
and
master
descended
into
the
warm
waters
and,
without
a
backward
glance,
left
the
trading
post
to
its
fate.
There
was
not
even
any
use
in
leaving
a
note.
Their
relief
ship,
soon
due,
would
never
find
the
station
without
radio
direction.
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