Pellucidar · Chapter 8 (2/2)

Some time after this Gr-gr-gr came through the fields where we were, and his son spoke to him upon the subject, but the old gentleman was evidently in anything but a good humor, for he cuffed the youngster and, turning upon me, informed me that he was convinced that I had lied to him, and that I was one of Hooja’s people.

“Wherefore,” he concluded, “we shall slay you as soon as the melons are cultivated. Hasten, therefore.”

And hasten I did. I hastened to cultivate the weeds which grew among the melon-vines. Where there had been one sickly weed before, I nourished two healthy ones. When I found a particularly promising variety of weed growing elsewhere than among my melons, I forthwith dug it up and transplanted it among my charges.

My masters did not seem to realize my perfidy. They saw me always laboring diligently in the melon-patch, and as time enters not into the reckoning of Pellucidarians⁠—even of human beings and much less of brutes and half brutes⁠—I might have lived on indefinitely through this subterfuge had not that occurred which took me out of the melon-patch for good and all.