Lankar of Callisto

It was a tremendous leap, and he barely made it, landing with forepaws scrabbling, hooked over the rail. Kicking furiously with his second and third pairs of legs, the last, uninvited member of the expedition teetered and floundered and came blundering over the rail, fell to the deck with a thud that shook the craft, and scrambled over to where I stood dumbfounded, and hurled himself against me, licking my face frantically.

It was Bozo the othode, of course, who had determined not to be left behind! The others laughed at my discomfiture, for I was scarlet with embarrassment. But I could not bring myself to chastise the faithful creature. I will admit that tears filled my eyes at this display of simple loyalty and affection. I bent down and scratched his ears while he goggled up at me, love in his great bulging eyes.

“Really, captain!” Dr. Abziz said fussily, “we cannot have this great clumsy beast aboard! It simply will not do―he will be jamming his way into the cabin I share with Prince Lankar―he will be underfoot during the entire voyage―and what are we to feed the brute?”

Thuron turned to Admiral Zantor who stood watching, arms folded on his mighty chest, a slight smile lightening his somber visage.

“What shall we do, Admiral?”

Zantor caught my eye and grinned.

Then he said: “As much as I feel a ship’s deck is no place to keep an animal, I prize loyalty highly, and the manly love between comrades. It is obvious to me that the othode would suffer if parted from his friend for long. If Prince Lankar will tend to the beast’s needs, and keep him from getting underfoot, it shall not be said that Zantor came between our visitor from Earth and his first friend upon Thanator!”

And my shipmates cheered!

And so it was that Bozo became the unofficial mascot of the good ship Xaxar despite Dr. Abziz. We drew up our mooring lines and floated free a moment later, while the throng cheered lustily, and soared into a golden dawn with the Avenger flying to our portside and the Zarkoon to starboard.

It did not take my shipmates very long to adjust to having a wild beast aboard the sky-ship. At first they were timid of him and treated him gingerly, with enormous respect, giving us a very wide berth whenever I exercised him on deck. But before very long it became noticed that young Taran was completely fearless of Bozo and petted him, hugged him and ordered him around without trepidation. Well, full-grown men (and warriors to boot) were not going to be timid of Bozo if a twelve-year-old boy wasn’t! As for Bozo, he was obedient and trustworthy and, while a bit wary of strangers, he never so much as growled; it was obvious that he knew he was here on sufferance, and that the faithful fellow was anxious to be as little trouble as possible. Before very long the men were vying with one another to make friends with the solemn great othode, smuggling choice tidbits from the galley to tempt him with, even competing for the privilege of taking him for his walks on deck. I was enormously relieved that Bozo was behaving himself like a gentleman, and happy to have his companionship.

The great ship cruised through the skies of Thanator, and every hour miles of empty plain flashed by underneath our keel. The magnificent sky-ship was an endless source of wonder to me. It reminded me inescapably of the Albatross, that prodigious airship flown by the sinister and enigmatic Robur the Conqueror in Jules Verne’s famous science-fiction novels, Master of the World and Clipper of the Clouds.

I loved to stride the deck in my swashbuckling skyboots, a voluminous blue cloak flapping about me, the brisk wind of our passage tousling my long hair and ruffling my beard, feeling on the whole rather like a character from one of my own books. It was an exhilarating experience in every way and I enjoyed myself hugely. After all, it is not often that a writer of fantastic adventure stories is given the opportunity to share in a fantastic adventure himself.

I already knew a goodly number of my fellow crewmen―Admiral Zantor and Glypto and Abziz and young Taran, of course. Burly, glowering Ergon was aboard as well, and so was the girl Ylana whom I had met when first presented at court. I found her very different now, for gone were the long court robes: she strode about the deck, long hair flying, long legs bare in sandals, looking like a boyish, adolescent Amazon in her abbreviated catskin garment. The jungle maid had even resumed wearing her barbaric bracelet of woven copper wire and her necklace of ivory fangs threaded on a leathern thong. She was Ylana of the Jungle Country once again, and I must say I heartily approved of the transformation.

There were so many faces missing from the crewheroes and companions of Jandar’s earlier adventures―who should have been here to share the perils and excitements of this voyage of discovery with us. But so many of Jandar’s comrades and friends had vanished with him in the mysterious wilderness that Jay on the other side of Thanator. Young Tomar, who had saved the Jalathadar from destruction at the hands of the traitorous Ulthar, during the second voyage to rescue Darloona from the clutches of the Sky Pirates of Zanadar; and the mighty Yathoon warrior, Koja the arthropod, and his friend, the elegant and daring masterswordsman, Lukor of Ganatol. And Zamara of Tharkol, the mad empress of Callisto herself who had flown against Kuur in her own ship, the Conqueress; to say nothing of Prince Valkar of Shondakor, the valiant son of Lord Yarrak who had once been betrothed to Princess Darloona, but who had graciously yielded his claim to her hand when he learned that she had come to love Jandar.