Chapter Twenty Six.Further Searchings and Perplexities.While these events were taking place at court, the bold chief Gadarn was ranging the country far and wide in search of his daughter Branwen.There was something in his manner which puzzled his followers not a little, for he seemed to have changed his character—at least to have added to it a strange, wild hilarity which suggested the idea that he enjoyed the hunt and was in no hurry that it should come to an end. Those who knew him best began at last to fear that anxiety had unsettled his reason, and Bladud, who liked the man’s gay, reckless disposition and hearty good-humour, intermingled with occasional bursts of fierce passion, was not only puzzled but distressed by the wild inconsistency of his proceedings. The Hebrew, knowing to some extent the cause of what he did, and feeling bound by his promise to conceal his knowledge, was reduced to a state of mind that is not describable.On the one hand there was the mystery of Cormac’s total disappearance in a short walk of three miles. On the other hand, there was the utter uselessness of searching for Branwen, yet the urgent need of searching diligently for Cormac. Then there was the fear of consequences when the fiery Gadarn should come to find out how he had been deceived, or rather, what moderns might style humbugged; add to which he was debarred the solace of talking the subject over with Bladud, besides being, in consequence of his candid disposition, in danger of blurting out words that might necessitate a revelation. One consequence was that, for the time at least, the grave and amiable Hebrew became an abrupt, unsociable, taciturn man.“What ails you just now, Beniah?” asked Bladud, one evening as they walked together to Gadarn’s booth, having been invited to supper. “You seem out of condition mentally, if not bodily, as if some one had rubbed you the wrong way.”“Do I?” answered Beniah, with a frown and something between a grin and a laugh. “Well, it is not easy to understand one’s mental complaints, much less to explain them.”Fortunately their arrival at the booth put a timely end to the conversation.“Ha! my long-legged prince and stalwart Hebrew!” cried the jovial chief in a loud voice, “I began to fear that you had got lost—as folk seem prone to do in this region—or had forgotten all about us! Come in and sit ye down. Ho! varlet, set down the victuals. After all, you are just in the nick of time. Well, Beniah, what think you of our search to-day? Has it been close? Is it likely that we have missed any of the caves or cliffs where robbers might be hiding?”“I think not. It seems to me that we have ransacked every hole and corner in which there is a chance that the lad could be found.”“Thelad!” exclaimed Gadarn.“I—I mean—your daughter,” returned the Hebrew, quickly.“Why don’t you say what you mean, then? One expects a man of your years to talk without confusion—or is it that you are really more anxious about finding the boy than my girl?”“Nay, that be far from me,” answered the Hebrew. “To say truth, I am to the full as anxious to find the one as the other, for it matters not which you—”“Matters not!” repeated Gadarn, fiercely.“Well, of course, I mean that my friendship for you and Bladud makes me wish to see you each satisfied by finding both the boy and the girl.”“For my part,” said Bladud, quietly, “I sincerely hope that we may find them both, for we are equally anxious to do so.”“Equally!” exclaimed Gadarn, with a look of lofty surprise. “Dost mean to compare your regard for your young friend with a father’s love for his only child!”The prince did not easily take offence, but he could not refrain from a flush and a frown as he replied, sharply—“I make no useless comparisons, chief. It is sufficient that we are both full of anxiety, and are engaged in the same quest.”“Ay, the same quest—undoubtedly,” observed the Hebrew in a grumbling, abstracted manner.“If it were possible,” returned Gadarn, sternly, “to give up the search for your boy and confine it entirely to my girl, I would do so. But as they went astray about the same place, we are compelled, however little we like it, to hunt together.”“Not compelled, chief,” cried Bladud, with a look and a flash in his blue eye which presaged a sudden rupture of friendly relations. “We can each go our own way and hunt on our own account.”“Scarcely,” replied the chief, “for if you found my daughter, you would be bound in honour to deliver her up; and if I found your boy, I should feel myself bound to do the same.”“It matters not a straw which is found,” cried the Hebrew, exasperated at the prospect of a quarrel between the two at such an inopportune moment. “Surely, as an old man, I have the right to remonstrate with you for encouraging anything like disagreement when our success in finding the boy,—I—I mean the girl,—depends—”A burst of laughter from the chief cut him short.“You don’t seem to be quite sure of what you mean,” he cried, “or to be able to say it. Come, come, prince, if the Hebrew claims a right to remonstrate because he is twenty years or so older than I am, surely I may claim the same right, for I am full twenty years older than you. Is it seemly to let your hot young blood boil over at every trifle? Here, let me replenish your platter, for it is ill hunting after man, woman, or beast without a stomach full of victuals.”There was no resisting the impulsive chief.Both his guests cleared their brows and laughed—though there was still a touch of exasperation in the Hebrew’s tone.While the search was being thus diligently though needlessly prosecuted in the neighbourhood of the Hot Swamp by Gadarn, who was dearly fond of a practical joke, another chief, who was in no joking humour, paid a visit one evening to his mother. Perhaps it is unnecessary to say that this chief was Gunrig.“From all that I see and hear, mother,” he said, walking up and down the room, as was his habit, with his hands behind him, “it is clear that if I do not go about it myself, the king will let the matter drop; for he is convinced that the girl has run off with some fellow, and will easily make her way home.”“Don’t you think he may be right, my son?”“No, I don’t, my much-too-wise mother. I know the girl better than that. It is enough to look in her face to know that she could not run away with any fellow!”“H’m!” remarked the woman significantly.“What say you?” demanded the chief, sharply.“I scarcely know what to say. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to take a band of our own men and go off in search of the girl yourself.”“That’s just what I’ve made up my mind to do; but I wanted to see if Hudibras would get up a band to join mine, for I dare not take many away from the town when that scoundrel Addedomar is threatening to make a raid upon us.”“My son,” said the woman anxiously, “what threatened raid do you speak of?”“Did you not hear? Since the last time we gave that robber a drubbing at the Hot Swamp, he has taken to the woods and gathered together a large band of rascals like himself. We would not have minded that—for honest men are always numerous enough to keep villains in order—but two chiefs who have long been anxious to take possession of the land round the Swamp have agreed to join with him, so that they form a formidable body of warriors—too large to be treated with contempt.”“This is bad news, Gunrig. How does the king take it?”“In his usual way. He does not believe in danger or mischief till it has overtaken him, and it is almost too late for action. There is one hope, however, that he will be induced to move in time. A young fellow has come from the far East, who was a great friend of that long-legged fellow Bladud, and he is bent on finding out where his friend has gone. Of course the king is willing to let him have as many men as he wants, though he sternly refuses to let Bladud return home; and I hope to induce this youth—Dromas, they call him—to join me, so that we may search together; for, of course, the search for the man may result in finding the girl. My only objection is that if we do find Bladud, I shall have to fight and kill him—unless the leprosy has happily killed him already. So, now, I will away and see what can be done about this hunt. My object in coming was to get my men, and to warn those left in charge of the town to keep a keen look-out for Addedomar, for he is a dangerous foe. Farewell, mother.”The woman was not addicted to the melting mood. She merely nodded as her son went out.In pursuance of this plan, a band of about two hundred warriors was raised, armed, and provisioned for a long journey. Gunrig put himself at the head of a hundred and fifty of these, and Dromas, being a skilled warrior, was given command of the remaining fifty, with Captain Arkal, who begged to be allowed to go as his lieutenant, and little Maikar as one of his fighting men.The orders were, that they should start off in the direction of the Hot Swamp, searching the country as they went, making diligent inquiries at the few villages they might pass, and questioning all travellers whom they might chance to meet with by the way. If Branwen should be found, she was to be sent back escorted by a detachment of a hundred men. If the retreat of Bladud should be discovered, news of the fact was to be sent to the king, and the prince was to be left there in peace with any of the men who might volunteer to live with him. But on no account were they or Bladud to return to Hudibras’ town as long as there was the least danger of infection.“Is heneverto return?” asked the queen, whimpering, when she heard these orders given.“No,never!” answered the king in that awful tone which the poor queen knew too well meant something like a decree of Fate.“Oh, father!” remonstrated Hafrydda—and Dromas loved her for the remonstrance—“not even if he is cured?”“Well, of course, if he is cured, my child, that alters the case. But how am I to know that he is cured?—who is to judge? Our court doctor knows as much about it as a sucking pig—perhaps less!”“Perhaps the Hebrew knows,” suggested Hafrydda—and Dromas loved her for the suggestion!“Ah, to be sure! I forgot the Hebrew. You may call at his hut in passing and take him with you, if he has come home yet. He’s an amiable old man, and may consent to go. If not—make him. Away! and cease to worry me. That’s the way to get rid of business, my queen; isn’t it?”“Certainly—it is one way,” answered the queen, turning to the two commanders. “Go, and my blessing go with you!”“Success attend you!” murmured the princess, glancing timidly at Dromas—and as Dromas gazed upon her fair face, and golden curls, and modest mien, he felt that he loved her for herself!Success did not, however, attend them at first, for on reaching the Hebrew’s hut they found it empty, and no amount of shouting availed to call Beniah from the “vasty deep” of the chasm, or the dark recesses of the secret chamber.Pursuing their way, therefore, the small army was soon lost to view in the forest.
While these events were taking place at court, the bold chief Gadarn was ranging the country far and wide in search of his daughter Branwen.
There was something in his manner which puzzled his followers not a little, for he seemed to have changed his character—at least to have added to it a strange, wild hilarity which suggested the idea that he enjoyed the hunt and was in no hurry that it should come to an end. Those who knew him best began at last to fear that anxiety had unsettled his reason, and Bladud, who liked the man’s gay, reckless disposition and hearty good-humour, intermingled with occasional bursts of fierce passion, was not only puzzled but distressed by the wild inconsistency of his proceedings. The Hebrew, knowing to some extent the cause of what he did, and feeling bound by his promise to conceal his knowledge, was reduced to a state of mind that is not describable.
On the one hand there was the mystery of Cormac’s total disappearance in a short walk of three miles. On the other hand, there was the utter uselessness of searching for Branwen, yet the urgent need of searching diligently for Cormac. Then there was the fear of consequences when the fiery Gadarn should come to find out how he had been deceived, or rather, what moderns might style humbugged; add to which he was debarred the solace of talking the subject over with Bladud, besides being, in consequence of his candid disposition, in danger of blurting out words that might necessitate a revelation. One consequence was that, for the time at least, the grave and amiable Hebrew became an abrupt, unsociable, taciturn man.
“What ails you just now, Beniah?” asked Bladud, one evening as they walked together to Gadarn’s booth, having been invited to supper. “You seem out of condition mentally, if not bodily, as if some one had rubbed you the wrong way.”
“Do I?” answered Beniah, with a frown and something between a grin and a laugh. “Well, it is not easy to understand one’s mental complaints, much less to explain them.”
Fortunately their arrival at the booth put a timely end to the conversation.
“Ha! my long-legged prince and stalwart Hebrew!” cried the jovial chief in a loud voice, “I began to fear that you had got lost—as folk seem prone to do in this region—or had forgotten all about us! Come in and sit ye down. Ho! varlet, set down the victuals. After all, you are just in the nick of time. Well, Beniah, what think you of our search to-day? Has it been close? Is it likely that we have missed any of the caves or cliffs where robbers might be hiding?”
“I think not. It seems to me that we have ransacked every hole and corner in which there is a chance that the lad could be found.”
“Thelad!” exclaimed Gadarn.
“I—I mean—your daughter,” returned the Hebrew, quickly.
“Why don’t you say what you mean, then? One expects a man of your years to talk without confusion—or is it that you are really more anxious about finding the boy than my girl?”
“Nay, that be far from me,” answered the Hebrew. “To say truth, I am to the full as anxious to find the one as the other, for it matters not which you—”
“Matters not!” repeated Gadarn, fiercely.
“Well, of course, I mean that my friendship for you and Bladud makes me wish to see you each satisfied by finding both the boy and the girl.”
“For my part,” said Bladud, quietly, “I sincerely hope that we may find them both, for we are equally anxious to do so.”
“Equally!” exclaimed Gadarn, with a look of lofty surprise. “Dost mean to compare your regard for your young friend with a father’s love for his only child!”
The prince did not easily take offence, but he could not refrain from a flush and a frown as he replied, sharply—
“I make no useless comparisons, chief. It is sufficient that we are both full of anxiety, and are engaged in the same quest.”
“Ay, the same quest—undoubtedly,” observed the Hebrew in a grumbling, abstracted manner.
“If it were possible,” returned Gadarn, sternly, “to give up the search for your boy and confine it entirely to my girl, I would do so. But as they went astray about the same place, we are compelled, however little we like it, to hunt together.”
“Not compelled, chief,” cried Bladud, with a look and a flash in his blue eye which presaged a sudden rupture of friendly relations. “We can each go our own way and hunt on our own account.”
“Scarcely,” replied the chief, “for if you found my daughter, you would be bound in honour to deliver her up; and if I found your boy, I should feel myself bound to do the same.”
“It matters not a straw which is found,” cried the Hebrew, exasperated at the prospect of a quarrel between the two at such an inopportune moment. “Surely, as an old man, I have the right to remonstrate with you for encouraging anything like disagreement when our success in finding the boy,—I—I mean the girl,—depends—”
A burst of laughter from the chief cut him short.
“You don’t seem to be quite sure of what you mean,” he cried, “or to be able to say it. Come, come, prince, if the Hebrew claims a right to remonstrate because he is twenty years or so older than I am, surely I may claim the same right, for I am full twenty years older than you. Is it seemly to let your hot young blood boil over at every trifle? Here, let me replenish your platter, for it is ill hunting after man, woman, or beast without a stomach full of victuals.”
There was no resisting the impulsive chief.
Both his guests cleared their brows and laughed—though there was still a touch of exasperation in the Hebrew’s tone.
While the search was being thus diligently though needlessly prosecuted in the neighbourhood of the Hot Swamp by Gadarn, who was dearly fond of a practical joke, another chief, who was in no joking humour, paid a visit one evening to his mother. Perhaps it is unnecessary to say that this chief was Gunrig.
“From all that I see and hear, mother,” he said, walking up and down the room, as was his habit, with his hands behind him, “it is clear that if I do not go about it myself, the king will let the matter drop; for he is convinced that the girl has run off with some fellow, and will easily make her way home.”
“Don’t you think he may be right, my son?”
“No, I don’t, my much-too-wise mother. I know the girl better than that. It is enough to look in her face to know that she could not run away with any fellow!”
“H’m!” remarked the woman significantly.
“What say you?” demanded the chief, sharply.
“I scarcely know what to say. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to take a band of our own men and go off in search of the girl yourself.”
“That’s just what I’ve made up my mind to do; but I wanted to see if Hudibras would get up a band to join mine, for I dare not take many away from the town when that scoundrel Addedomar is threatening to make a raid upon us.”
“My son,” said the woman anxiously, “what threatened raid do you speak of?”
“Did you not hear? Since the last time we gave that robber a drubbing at the Hot Swamp, he has taken to the woods and gathered together a large band of rascals like himself. We would not have minded that—for honest men are always numerous enough to keep villains in order—but two chiefs who have long been anxious to take possession of the land round the Swamp have agreed to join with him, so that they form a formidable body of warriors—too large to be treated with contempt.”
“This is bad news, Gunrig. How does the king take it?”
“In his usual way. He does not believe in danger or mischief till it has overtaken him, and it is almost too late for action. There is one hope, however, that he will be induced to move in time. A young fellow has come from the far East, who was a great friend of that long-legged fellow Bladud, and he is bent on finding out where his friend has gone. Of course the king is willing to let him have as many men as he wants, though he sternly refuses to let Bladud return home; and I hope to induce this youth—Dromas, they call him—to join me, so that we may search together; for, of course, the search for the man may result in finding the girl. My only objection is that if we do find Bladud, I shall have to fight and kill him—unless the leprosy has happily killed him already. So, now, I will away and see what can be done about this hunt. My object in coming was to get my men, and to warn those left in charge of the town to keep a keen look-out for Addedomar, for he is a dangerous foe. Farewell, mother.”
The woman was not addicted to the melting mood. She merely nodded as her son went out.
In pursuance of this plan, a band of about two hundred warriors was raised, armed, and provisioned for a long journey. Gunrig put himself at the head of a hundred and fifty of these, and Dromas, being a skilled warrior, was given command of the remaining fifty, with Captain Arkal, who begged to be allowed to go as his lieutenant, and little Maikar as one of his fighting men.
The orders were, that they should start off in the direction of the Hot Swamp, searching the country as they went, making diligent inquiries at the few villages they might pass, and questioning all travellers whom they might chance to meet with by the way. If Branwen should be found, she was to be sent back escorted by a detachment of a hundred men. If the retreat of Bladud should be discovered, news of the fact was to be sent to the king, and the prince was to be left there in peace with any of the men who might volunteer to live with him. But on no account were they or Bladud to return to Hudibras’ town as long as there was the least danger of infection.
“Is heneverto return?” asked the queen, whimpering, when she heard these orders given.
“No,never!” answered the king in that awful tone which the poor queen knew too well meant something like a decree of Fate.
“Oh, father!” remonstrated Hafrydda—and Dromas loved her for the remonstrance—“not even if he is cured?”
“Well, of course, if he is cured, my child, that alters the case. But how am I to know that he is cured?—who is to judge? Our court doctor knows as much about it as a sucking pig—perhaps less!”
“Perhaps the Hebrew knows,” suggested Hafrydda—and Dromas loved her for the suggestion!
“Ah, to be sure! I forgot the Hebrew. You may call at his hut in passing and take him with you, if he has come home yet. He’s an amiable old man, and may consent to go. If not—make him. Away! and cease to worry me. That’s the way to get rid of business, my queen; isn’t it?”
“Certainly—it is one way,” answered the queen, turning to the two commanders. “Go, and my blessing go with you!”
“Success attend you!” murmured the princess, glancing timidly at Dromas—and as Dromas gazed upon her fair face, and golden curls, and modest mien, he felt that he loved her for herself!
Success did not, however, attend them at first, for on reaching the Hebrew’s hut they found it empty, and no amount of shouting availed to call Beniah from the “vasty deep” of the chasm, or the dark recesses of the secret chamber.
Pursuing their way, therefore, the small army was soon lost to view in the forest.
Chapter Twenty Seven.Cross Purposes and Complications.We turn now to another scene in the wild-woods, not far distant from the Hot Swamp.It is a thickly-wooded hollow on the eastern slopes of the high ridge that bounds one side of the valley of the Springs. Sturdy oaks, tall poplars, lordly elms and beeches, cast a deep shade over the spot which was rendered almost impenetrable by dense underwood. Even in brightest sunshine light entered it with difficulty, and in gloomy weather a sort of twilight constantly prevailed, while at night the place became the very abode of thick darkness.In this retreat was assembled, one gloomy afternoon, a large body of armed men, not connected with the searching parties which had been ransacking the region in the vain duplex search which we have tried to describe. It was a war-party under the command of Addedomar the outlaw—if we may thus characterise a man in a land where there was little or no law of any kind, save that of might.It was a strong band, numbering nearly four hundred warriors, all of whom were animated with the supposed-to-be noble desire to commit theft on a very large scale. It is true, they called it “conquest,” which word in those days, as in modern times even among civilised people, meant killing many of the natives of a place and taking possession of their lands. Then—as now—this was sometimes styled “right of conquest,” and many people thought then, as some think even now, that by putting this word “right” before “conquest” they made it all right! and had somehow succeeded in abrogating the laws, “Thou shalt not steal,” and “Do to others as thou wouldest have others do to thee,” laws which were written by God in the human understanding long before Moses descended with the decalogue from Sinai.However, as we have said, there was little or no law in the land of old Albion at the time of which we write, so that we can scarcely wonder at the aspirations of the band under Addedomar—aspirations which were to the full as strong—perhaps even as noble—as those of Alexander the Great or the first Napoleon.It had been ascertained by some stray hunter of Addedomar’s party that considerable bands of men were ranging the valley of the Springs and its neighbourhood in search of something or some one, and that they went about usually in small detached parties. The stray hunter, with an eye, doubtless, to his personal interest, conveyed the news to the robber chief, who, having made secret and extensive preparations, happened at the time to be on his way to raid the territories of King Hudibras, intending to take the town of Gunrig as a piece of by-play in passing.Here, however, was an opportunity of striking a splendid blow without travelling so far. By keeping his force united, and sending a number of scouts in advance, he could attack and overwhelm the scattered detachments in succession. He, therefore, in the meantime, abandoned his original plan, and turned aside to the neighbourhood of the Hot Swamp. There he remained in the sequestered hollow, which has been described, awaiting the return of his scouts. There was no difficulty in feeding an army in those days, for the forests of Albion abounded with game, and the silent bow, unlike the noisy fire-arm, could be used effectively without betraying the presence of the hunter.The eyes of Addedomar opened wider and wider as his scouts dropped in one by one, and his heart beat high with glee and hope at the news they brought, for it opened up a speedy conquest in detail of more foes than he had counted on meeting with, and left the prospect of his afterwards carrying into execution his original plan.The first scout brought the intelligence that it was not the men of King Hudibras who were in the neighbourhood, but those of Gadarn, the great chief of the far north, who had come there with an armed force in search of his daughter—she having gone lost, stolen, or strayed in the wilderness.“Is the band a large one?” demanded Addedomar.“It is; but not so large as ours, and it is weakened every day by being sent into the woods in different directions and in three detachments.”“Excellent! Ha! we will join Gadarn in this search, not only for his daughter, but for himself, and we will double the number of his detachments when we meet them, by slicing each man in two.”A loud laugh greeted this pleasantry, for robbers were easily tickled in those days.“I also discovered,” continued the scout, “that there is search being made at the same time for some boy or lad, who seems to have disappeared, or run away, or been caught by robbers.”Again there was a laugh at the idea that there were other robbers about besides themselves, but the chief checked them.“Did you find out anything else about this lad?” he asked.“Only that he seemed from his dress to be a hunter.”Addedomar frowned and looked at the ground for some moments in meditation.“I’m convinced,” he said at last, “that this lad is none other than the girl who escaped in the hunting dress of my young brother, just the day before I returned to camp. Mother was not as careful as she might have been at that time, and lost me a pretty wife. Good! Things are turning out well to-day. We will rout Gadarn, find his daughter and this so-called lad, and then I shall have two wives instead of one.”The robber chief had just come to this satisfactory conclusion, when another scout arrived.“How now, varlet? Do you bring good news?”“That depends on what you consider good,” answered the scout, panting. “I have just learned that a large body of King Hudibras’ men—about two hundred, I believe—is on its way to the Swamp to search for his son Bladud—”“What! the giant whom we have heard tell of—who gave Gunrig such a drubbing?”“The same. It seems that he has been smitten with leprosy, has been banished from court, and has taken up his abode somewhere near the Swamp.”“But if he has been banished, why do they send out to search for him, I wonder?” said the robber chief.“It is said,” returned the scout, “that a friend of Bladud from the far East wants to find him.”“Good! This is rare good luck. We, too, will search for Bladud and slay him. It is not every day that a man has the chance to kill a giant with leprosy, and a king’s son into the bargain.”“I also learned,” continued the scout, “that some lady of the court has fled, and the army is to search of her too.”“What! more women? Why, it seems as if these woods here must be swarming with them. I should not wonder, too, if it was Hudibras’ own daughter that has run away. Not unlikely, for the king is well known to be a tyrannical old fellow. H’m! we will search for her also. If we find them all, I shall have more than enough of wives—the king’s daughter, and Gadarn’s daughter, and this run-away-lad, whoever she may be! Learned you anything more?”“Nothing more, except that Gadarn intends to make an early start to-morrow morning.”“It is well. We, also, will make an early—an even earlier—start to-morrow morning. To your food, now, my men, and then—to rest!”While the robber chief was thus conversing with his scouts, two men were advancing through the forest, one of whom was destined to interfere with the plans which were so well conceived by Addedomar. These were our friends Arkal and Maikar.Filled with a sort of wild romance, which neither the waves of the sea nor the dangers of the land could abate, these two shipmates marched through the woods all unconscious, of course, of the important part they were destined to play in that era of the world’s history. The two sailors were alone, having obtained leave to range right and left in advance of the column to which they were attached, for the purpose of hunting.“We are not much to boast of in the way of shooting,” remarked Arkal; “but the troops don’t know that, and good luck may prevent them finding it out.”“Just so,” returned Maikar, “good luck may also bring us within arrow-shot of a wolf. I have set my heart on taking home a wolf-skin to that little woman with the black eyes that I’ve spoken to you about sometimes.”“Quite right, young man,” said the captain, in an approving tone. “Nothing pleases folk so much as to find that they have been remembered by you when far away. Moreover, I think you stand a good chance, for I saw two wolves the other day when I was rambling about, but they were out of range.”Chance or luck—whichever it was—did not bring a wolf within range that day, but it brought what was more important and dangerous—namely, a large brown bear. The animal was seated under a willow tree, with its head on one side as if in meditation, when the men came upon it. An intervening cliff had prevented the bear from hearing the footsteps of the men, and both parties, being taken by surprise, stared at each other for a moment in silence.No word was spoken, but next instant the bear ran at them, and stood up on its hind legs, according to bear-nature, to attack. At the same moment both men discharged arrows at it with all their force. One arrow stuck in the animal’s throat, the other in his chest. But bears are proverbially hard to kill, and no vital part had been reached. Dropping their bows, the men turned and made for the nearest trees. They separated in doing so, and the bear lost a moment or two in making up its mind which to follow. Fortunately it decided in favour of Maikar. Had it followed Arkal, it would have caught him, for the captain, not being as agile as might be wished, missed his first spring up his tree, and slid back to the bottom.Maikar, on the other hand, went up like a squirrel. Now, the little seaman had been told that some kinds of bears can climb while others cannot. Remembering the fact, he glanced anxiously down, as he went up. To his horror he saw that this bear could climb! and that his only chance would be to climb so high, that the branches which would bear his weight would not support the bear. It was a forlorn hope, but he resolved to try it.Arkal, in the meantime, had recovered breath and self-possession. Seeing the danger of his comrade, he boldly dropped to the ground, picked up his bow, ran under the other tree, and sent an arrow deep into the bear’s flank. With a savage growl, the animal looked round, saw the captain getting ready a second arrow, and immediately began to descend. This rather disconcerted Arkal, who discharged his arrow hastily and missed.Dropping his bow a second time he ran for dear life to his own tree and scrambled up. But he need not have been in such haste, for although some bears can ascend trees easily, they are clumsy and slow in descending. Consequently the captain was high up before his enemy began to climb. That was of little advantage, however, for in a few moments the bear would have been up with him, had not Maikar, moved by the consideration no doubt, that one good turn deserves another, dropped quickly to the ground, picked up his bow and repeated the captain’s operation, with even more telling effect, for his arrow made the bear so furious, that he turned round to bite it. In doing so he lost his hold, and fell to the ground with such a thud, that he drove the arrow further into him, and a vicious squeal out of him.At this point little Maikar resolved to vary the plan of action. He stood his ground manfully, and, when the bear arose with a somewhat confused expression, he planted another arrow up to the feathers in its chest. Still the creature was unsubdued. It made a rush, but the sailor sprang lightly behind a tree, getting ready an arrow as he did so. When the animal rushed at him again, it received the shaft deep in the left shoulder, so that, with blood pouring from its many wounds, it stumbled and fell at its next rush.Seeing how things were going, you may be sure that Arkal did not remain an idle spectator. He dropped again from the outer end of the bough he had reached, and when the bear rose once more to its feet, it found a foe on either side of it.“Don’t shoot together,” panted Maikar, for all this violent action was beginning to tell on him. “Do you shoot first.”This was said while the bear was in a state of indecision.The captain obeyed and put another arrow in its neck. The bear turned savagely on him, thus exposing its side to Maikar, who took swift advantage of the chance, and, sending an arrow straight to its heart, turned it over dead!It must be remarked here, that all this shooting was done at such close range that, although the two seamen were, as we have said, rather poor shots, they had little difficulty in hitting so large an object.“Now, then, out with your knife and off with the claws for the little woman at home with the black eyes,” said Arkal, wiping the perspiration from his brow, “and be quick about it, so as to have it done before the troops come up.”The little man was not long in accomplishing the job, and he had just put the claws in his pouch, and was standing up to wipe his knife, when the captain suddenly grasped his arm and drew him behind the trunk of a tree, from which point of vantage he cautiously gazed with an anxious expression and a dark frown.
We turn now to another scene in the wild-woods, not far distant from the Hot Swamp.
It is a thickly-wooded hollow on the eastern slopes of the high ridge that bounds one side of the valley of the Springs. Sturdy oaks, tall poplars, lordly elms and beeches, cast a deep shade over the spot which was rendered almost impenetrable by dense underwood. Even in brightest sunshine light entered it with difficulty, and in gloomy weather a sort of twilight constantly prevailed, while at night the place became the very abode of thick darkness.
In this retreat was assembled, one gloomy afternoon, a large body of armed men, not connected with the searching parties which had been ransacking the region in the vain duplex search which we have tried to describe. It was a war-party under the command of Addedomar the outlaw—if we may thus characterise a man in a land where there was little or no law of any kind, save that of might.
It was a strong band, numbering nearly four hundred warriors, all of whom were animated with the supposed-to-be noble desire to commit theft on a very large scale. It is true, they called it “conquest,” which word in those days, as in modern times even among civilised people, meant killing many of the natives of a place and taking possession of their lands. Then—as now—this was sometimes styled “right of conquest,” and many people thought then, as some think even now, that by putting this word “right” before “conquest” they made it all right! and had somehow succeeded in abrogating the laws, “Thou shalt not steal,” and “Do to others as thou wouldest have others do to thee,” laws which were written by God in the human understanding long before Moses descended with the decalogue from Sinai.
However, as we have said, there was little or no law in the land of old Albion at the time of which we write, so that we can scarcely wonder at the aspirations of the band under Addedomar—aspirations which were to the full as strong—perhaps even as noble—as those of Alexander the Great or the first Napoleon.
It had been ascertained by some stray hunter of Addedomar’s party that considerable bands of men were ranging the valley of the Springs and its neighbourhood in search of something or some one, and that they went about usually in small detached parties. The stray hunter, with an eye, doubtless, to his personal interest, conveyed the news to the robber chief, who, having made secret and extensive preparations, happened at the time to be on his way to raid the territories of King Hudibras, intending to take the town of Gunrig as a piece of by-play in passing.
Here, however, was an opportunity of striking a splendid blow without travelling so far. By keeping his force united, and sending a number of scouts in advance, he could attack and overwhelm the scattered detachments in succession. He, therefore, in the meantime, abandoned his original plan, and turned aside to the neighbourhood of the Hot Swamp. There he remained in the sequestered hollow, which has been described, awaiting the return of his scouts. There was no difficulty in feeding an army in those days, for the forests of Albion abounded with game, and the silent bow, unlike the noisy fire-arm, could be used effectively without betraying the presence of the hunter.
The eyes of Addedomar opened wider and wider as his scouts dropped in one by one, and his heart beat high with glee and hope at the news they brought, for it opened up a speedy conquest in detail of more foes than he had counted on meeting with, and left the prospect of his afterwards carrying into execution his original plan.
The first scout brought the intelligence that it was not the men of King Hudibras who were in the neighbourhood, but those of Gadarn, the great chief of the far north, who had come there with an armed force in search of his daughter—she having gone lost, stolen, or strayed in the wilderness.
“Is the band a large one?” demanded Addedomar.
“It is; but not so large as ours, and it is weakened every day by being sent into the woods in different directions and in three detachments.”
“Excellent! Ha! we will join Gadarn in this search, not only for his daughter, but for himself, and we will double the number of his detachments when we meet them, by slicing each man in two.”
A loud laugh greeted this pleasantry, for robbers were easily tickled in those days.
“I also discovered,” continued the scout, “that there is search being made at the same time for some boy or lad, who seems to have disappeared, or run away, or been caught by robbers.”
Again there was a laugh at the idea that there were other robbers about besides themselves, but the chief checked them.
“Did you find out anything else about this lad?” he asked.
“Only that he seemed from his dress to be a hunter.”
Addedomar frowned and looked at the ground for some moments in meditation.
“I’m convinced,” he said at last, “that this lad is none other than the girl who escaped in the hunting dress of my young brother, just the day before I returned to camp. Mother was not as careful as she might have been at that time, and lost me a pretty wife. Good! Things are turning out well to-day. We will rout Gadarn, find his daughter and this so-called lad, and then I shall have two wives instead of one.”
The robber chief had just come to this satisfactory conclusion, when another scout arrived.
“How now, varlet? Do you bring good news?”
“That depends on what you consider good,” answered the scout, panting. “I have just learned that a large body of King Hudibras’ men—about two hundred, I believe—is on its way to the Swamp to search for his son Bladud—”
“What! the giant whom we have heard tell of—who gave Gunrig such a drubbing?”
“The same. It seems that he has been smitten with leprosy, has been banished from court, and has taken up his abode somewhere near the Swamp.”
“But if he has been banished, why do they send out to search for him, I wonder?” said the robber chief.
“It is said,” returned the scout, “that a friend of Bladud from the far East wants to find him.”
“Good! This is rare good luck. We, too, will search for Bladud and slay him. It is not every day that a man has the chance to kill a giant with leprosy, and a king’s son into the bargain.”
“I also learned,” continued the scout, “that some lady of the court has fled, and the army is to search of her too.”
“What! more women? Why, it seems as if these woods here must be swarming with them. I should not wonder, too, if it was Hudibras’ own daughter that has run away. Not unlikely, for the king is well known to be a tyrannical old fellow. H’m! we will search for her also. If we find them all, I shall have more than enough of wives—the king’s daughter, and Gadarn’s daughter, and this run-away-lad, whoever she may be! Learned you anything more?”
“Nothing more, except that Gadarn intends to make an early start to-morrow morning.”
“It is well. We, also, will make an early—an even earlier—start to-morrow morning. To your food, now, my men, and then—to rest!”
While the robber chief was thus conversing with his scouts, two men were advancing through the forest, one of whom was destined to interfere with the plans which were so well conceived by Addedomar. These were our friends Arkal and Maikar.
Filled with a sort of wild romance, which neither the waves of the sea nor the dangers of the land could abate, these two shipmates marched through the woods all unconscious, of course, of the important part they were destined to play in that era of the world’s history. The two sailors were alone, having obtained leave to range right and left in advance of the column to which they were attached, for the purpose of hunting.
“We are not much to boast of in the way of shooting,” remarked Arkal; “but the troops don’t know that, and good luck may prevent them finding it out.”
“Just so,” returned Maikar, “good luck may also bring us within arrow-shot of a wolf. I have set my heart on taking home a wolf-skin to that little woman with the black eyes that I’ve spoken to you about sometimes.”
“Quite right, young man,” said the captain, in an approving tone. “Nothing pleases folk so much as to find that they have been remembered by you when far away. Moreover, I think you stand a good chance, for I saw two wolves the other day when I was rambling about, but they were out of range.”
Chance or luck—whichever it was—did not bring a wolf within range that day, but it brought what was more important and dangerous—namely, a large brown bear. The animal was seated under a willow tree, with its head on one side as if in meditation, when the men came upon it. An intervening cliff had prevented the bear from hearing the footsteps of the men, and both parties, being taken by surprise, stared at each other for a moment in silence.
No word was spoken, but next instant the bear ran at them, and stood up on its hind legs, according to bear-nature, to attack. At the same moment both men discharged arrows at it with all their force. One arrow stuck in the animal’s throat, the other in his chest. But bears are proverbially hard to kill, and no vital part had been reached. Dropping their bows, the men turned and made for the nearest trees. They separated in doing so, and the bear lost a moment or two in making up its mind which to follow. Fortunately it decided in favour of Maikar. Had it followed Arkal, it would have caught him, for the captain, not being as agile as might be wished, missed his first spring up his tree, and slid back to the bottom.
Maikar, on the other hand, went up like a squirrel. Now, the little seaman had been told that some kinds of bears can climb while others cannot. Remembering the fact, he glanced anxiously down, as he went up. To his horror he saw that this bear could climb! and that his only chance would be to climb so high, that the branches which would bear his weight would not support the bear. It was a forlorn hope, but he resolved to try it.
Arkal, in the meantime, had recovered breath and self-possession. Seeing the danger of his comrade, he boldly dropped to the ground, picked up his bow, ran under the other tree, and sent an arrow deep into the bear’s flank. With a savage growl, the animal looked round, saw the captain getting ready a second arrow, and immediately began to descend. This rather disconcerted Arkal, who discharged his arrow hastily and missed.
Dropping his bow a second time he ran for dear life to his own tree and scrambled up. But he need not have been in such haste, for although some bears can ascend trees easily, they are clumsy and slow in descending. Consequently the captain was high up before his enemy began to climb. That was of little advantage, however, for in a few moments the bear would have been up with him, had not Maikar, moved by the consideration no doubt, that one good turn deserves another, dropped quickly to the ground, picked up his bow and repeated the captain’s operation, with even more telling effect, for his arrow made the bear so furious, that he turned round to bite it. In doing so he lost his hold, and fell to the ground with such a thud, that he drove the arrow further into him, and a vicious squeal out of him.
At this point little Maikar resolved to vary the plan of action. He stood his ground manfully, and, when the bear arose with a somewhat confused expression, he planted another arrow up to the feathers in its chest. Still the creature was unsubdued. It made a rush, but the sailor sprang lightly behind a tree, getting ready an arrow as he did so. When the animal rushed at him again, it received the shaft deep in the left shoulder, so that, with blood pouring from its many wounds, it stumbled and fell at its next rush.
Seeing how things were going, you may be sure that Arkal did not remain an idle spectator. He dropped again from the outer end of the bough he had reached, and when the bear rose once more to its feet, it found a foe on either side of it.
“Don’t shoot together,” panted Maikar, for all this violent action was beginning to tell on him. “Do you shoot first.”
This was said while the bear was in a state of indecision.
The captain obeyed and put another arrow in its neck. The bear turned savagely on him, thus exposing its side to Maikar, who took swift advantage of the chance, and, sending an arrow straight to its heart, turned it over dead!
It must be remarked here, that all this shooting was done at such close range that, although the two seamen were, as we have said, rather poor shots, they had little difficulty in hitting so large an object.
“Now, then, out with your knife and off with the claws for the little woman at home with the black eyes,” said Arkal, wiping the perspiration from his brow, “and be quick about it, so as to have it done before the troops come up.”
The little man was not long in accomplishing the job, and he had just put the claws in his pouch, and was standing up to wipe his knife, when the captain suddenly grasped his arm and drew him behind the trunk of a tree, from which point of vantage he cautiously gazed with an anxious expression and a dark frown.
Chapter Twenty Eight.Enemies, Friends, Scouts, Skirmishes, and Councils of War.Arkal’s attention had been arrested by the figure of a man who suddenly appeared from behind a cliff not four hundred yards distant from the scene of their recent exploit. The stealthy manner in which the man moved among the bushes, and the earnest gaze which he directed from time to time in one particular direction, showed clearly that he was watching the movements of something—it might be a deer or an enemy.“Evidently he has not seen us,” whispered Maikar.“Clear enough that, for he is not looking this way,” returned Arkal. “He presents his back to us in a careless way, which he would hardly do if he knew that two crack bowmen were a hundred yards astern of him.”“Shall I shoot him?” whispered Maikar, preparing his weapons.“He may be a friend,” returned the captain. “But, see! yonder comes what interests him so much. Look!”He pointed to a distant ridge, over the brow of which the head of Gunrig’s column of men was just appearing.“He is a scout!” exclaimed Maikar.“Ay, and you may be sure that an enemy is not far off ahead of our column—unless, perchance, he may be the scout of some tribe friendly to the king. Hold your hand, Maikar. You are ever too ready to fight. Listen, now; yonder is a convenient hollow where I may get into the thick wood unseen by this scout, and run back to warn our friends. Ahead, yonder, is a narrow pass which leads, no doubt, into the next valley. Run you, as fast as your legs can wag, get through that pass, and see what you can see. In the nature of things the scout is almost sure to return through it, if he intends to carry the news of our approach to his people, who are probably there. You must hide and do the best you can to prevent him from doing this—either by killing him or knocking him down. Be off, we have no time to lose.”“But how if he should be a friend?” asked Maikar with a smile. “How am I to find out?”Arkal paused and was perplexed.“You must just exercise your wisdom,” he replied. “If the fellow has an ill-looking countenance, kill him. If he looks a sensible sort of man, stretch him out somehow. I would offer to go instead of you, being more of a match for him, but I could not match his legs or yours, so it might well chance that he would reach the pass before me.”“Pooh, captain,” retorted Maikar, with a look of scorn. “Ye think too much of yourself, and are unwarrantably puffed up about the advantage of size.”Without a reply—save a grin—Arkal turned, and, jumping into the bushes, was immediately out of sight. His comrade, before starting off to carry out his part of the programme, took a good look at the scout whom he was bound to circumvent.He was evidently a tall, powerful man, armed with a bow, a short sword, and a stout staff somewhat longer than himself. That he was also a brave and cool man seemed probable, from the fact that, instead of hurrying off hastily to warn his friends that troops were in sight, he stood calmly leaning on his staff as if for the purpose of ascertaining the exact number of the strangers before reporting them.He was still engaged in this inspection when Maikar started off and fled on the wings of hope and excitement toward the pass. Arrived there, his first glance revealed to him the troops of Addedomar busy with their evening meal in the valley below.“The question is, are they friends or foes?” thought the little seaman. “H’m! it’s an awkward thing for a poor fellow not to be quite sure whether to prepare for calms or squalls. Such a misfortune never could befall one at sea. Well, I must just take them to be foes till they prove themselves to be friends. And this scout, what in the world am I to do abouthim? I have no heart to hide in the bushes and shoot him dead as he passes.”The little man had probably forgotten his readiness to shoot the scout in the back only a few minutes before—but is not mankind at large prone to inconsistency at times?“I know what I’ll do,” he muttered, pursuing his thoughts, and nodding his head, as he stepped aside into the shrubbery that clothed the slopes of the pass.Cutting down a suitable branch from a tree, he quickly stripped off the smaller branches and reduced it to a staff about six feet in length. Then, hiding himself behind a part of the cliff which abutted close on the footpath that had been worn through the pass by men and wild animals, he laid his bow and quiver at his feet and awaited the coming of the scout.He had not to wait long, for that worthy, having ascertained the size of the invading band, came down the pass at a swinging trot. Just as he passed the jutting rock his practised eye caught sight of Maikar in time to avoid the blow of the pole or staff, which was aimed at his head, but not to escape the dig in the ribs with which the little man followed it up.Instantly the scout’s right hand flew to his quiver, but before he could fix an arrow another blow from the staff broke the bow in his left hand.Blazing with astonishment and wrath at such rough treatment from so small a man, he stepped back, drew his sword and glared at his opponent.Maikar also stepped back a pace or two and held up his hand as if for a truce.“I too have a sword,” he said, pointing to the weapon, “and can use it, but I have no desire to slay you till I know whether you are friend or foe.”“Slay me! thou insignificant rat!” cried the scout in savage fury. “Even if we were friends I would have to pay thee for that dig in the ribs and the broken bow. But I scorn to take advantage of such a squirrel. Have at thee with my staff!”Running at him as he spoke, the scout delivered a blow that would have acted like the hammer of Thor had it taken effect, but the seaman deftly dipped his head and the blow fell on a neighbouring birch, and a foot or so of the staff snapped off. What remained, however, was still a formidable weapon, but before the scout could use it he received another dig in the ribs which called forth a yell of indignation rather than of pain.The appropriateness of the name squirrel now became apparent, for Maikar even excelled that agile creature in the rapidity with which he waltzed round the sturdy scout and delivered his stinging little blows. To do the scout justice, he played his part like a brave and active warrior, so that it seemed to rain blows and digs in all directions, and, once or twice, as by a miracle, Maikar escaped what threatened to be little, if at all, short of extermination. As in running, so in fighting, it is the pace that kills. After five minutes or so both combatants were winded. They separated, as if by mutual consent, and, leaning on their staves, panted vehemently.Then at it they went again.“Thou little scrap of a pig’s snout, come on,” shouted the scout in huge disdain.“Thou big skinful of pride! look out!” cried Maikar, rendering the adoption of his own advice impossible by thrusting the butt of his staff against the scout’s nose, and thereby filling his eyes with water. At the next moment he rendered him still more helpless by bestowing a whack on his crown which laid him flat on the footpath.A cheer behind him at that moment caused the little man to look round, when he found that the head of Gunrig’s column, led by Arkal, had come up just in time to witness the final blow.They were still crowding round the fallen man, and asking hurried questions about him, when a voice from the heights above hailed them. Instantly a score or two of arrows were pointed in that direction.“Hold your hands, men!” shouted Gunrig. “I know that voice—ay, and the face too. Is it not the white beard of our friend the Hebrew that I see?”A few minutes more proved that he was right, for the well-known figure of Beniah descended the sides of the pass.The news he brought proved to be both surprising and perplexing, for up to that moment Gunrig had been utterly ignorant of the recent arrival of Gadarn from the far north in search of his lost daughter, though of course he was well aware of the various unsuccessful efforts that had been made by King Hudibras in that direction. Moreover, he chanced to be not on the best of terms with Gadarn just at that time. Then the fact that Bladud had recovered his health and was actively engaged in the search—not, indeed, so much for Branwen as for a youth named Cormac—was also surprising as well as disagreeable news to Gunrig.“And who is this Cormac in whom the prince seems to be so interested?” he asked.Here poor Beniah, held fast by his solemn promise, was compelled to give an evasive answer.“All that I can tell about him,” he replied, “is that he is a kind young fellow to whose attention and nursing the prince thinks himself indebted for his life. But had we not better question this young man?” he added, turning to the scout. “I have heard rumours about robbers lurking somewhere hereabouts—hence my coming out alone to scout the country round, little dreaming that I should find the men of King Hudibras so near.”“If robbers are said to be hereabouts,” broke in Maikar at this point, “I can tell you where to find them, I think, for I saw a band of men in the hollow just beyond this pass.”“Say you so?” exclaimed Gunrig; “fetch the prisoner here.”The scout, who had recovered his senses by that time, was led forward, but doggedly refused to give any information.“Kindle a fire, men; we will roast him alive, and perhaps that will teach him to speak.”It was by no means unusual for men in those days to use torture for the purpose of extracting information from obstinate prisoners. At first the man maintained his resolution, but when he saw that his captors were in earnest, and about to light the fire, his courage failed him. He confessed that he was a scout, and that Addedomar was there with several other well-known chiefs and a body of four hundred men.Thereupon the man was bound and put in the safe keeping of several men whose lives were to be forfeited if he should escape. Then Gunrig, Dromas, Beniah, Arkal, Maikar, and several other chief men retired under a tree to hold a council of war. Their deliberations resulted in the following conclusions.First, that the number of warriors at their disposal, counting those of King Hudibras and those under Gadarn, amounted to a sufficient force wherewith to meet the invaders in open fight; second, that a junction between their forces must be effected that night, for, according to usual custom in such circumstances, the enemy would be pretty sure to attack before daybreak in the morning; and, third, that what was to be done must be set about as soon as darkness favoured their operations.“You can guide us in the dark, I suppose,” said Gunrig, turning to Beniah.“Ay, as well almost as in the light,” replied the Hebrew.“Let the men feed, then, and be ready for the signal to start,” said the chief to his officers, “and see that no louder noise be heard than the crunching of their jaws.”The night was favourable to their enterprise. The moon was indeed risen, but clouds entirely hid it, yet allowed a soft light to pass through which rendered objects close at hand quite visible. Before midnight they started on the march in profound silence, and, led by Beniah, made a widedétourwhich brought them to the encampment of Gadarn. As may easily be understood, that chief was well pleased at the turn events had taken, for, to say truth, his little joke of trotting Beniah about the land and keeping him in perplexity, had begun to pall, and he had for some days past been hunting about for a plausible excuse for abandoning the search and going to visit King Hudibras.His difficulty in this matter was increased by his unwillingness to reveal the true state of matters to Bladud, yet he knew that unless he did so the prince would utterly refuse to abandon the search for Cormac. Another thing that perplexed the chief greatly was—how the Hebrew, knowing Branwen as he did, had failed to recognise her in the lad Cormac, for of course he knew nothing of the promise that held the Hebrew’s lips tied; his daughter—who was as fond of a joke as himself—having taken care not to revealallthe complications that had arisen in regard to herself.The sudden appearance, therefore, of foes with whom he could fight proved to be a sort of fortunate safety-valve, and, besides, he had the comfort of thinking that he would fight in a good cause, for the region of the Hot Swamp belonged to his friend Hudibras, and this robber Addedomar was a notorious rascal who required extirpating, while the chiefs who had joined him were little better.The council of war that was hastily called included Bladud, who was sent for, being asleep in his own booth when the party arrived. The council chamber was under an old oak tree.When Bladud came forward he was suddenly struck motionless and glared as if he had seen a ghost. For the first time in his life he felt an emotion of supernatural fear—for there, in the flesh apparently, stood his friend Dromas.A smile from the latter reassured him. Leaping forward he seized his friend’s hand, but the impulsive Greek was not to be put off thus. He threw an arm round the prince’s neck and kissed his cheek.“Dromas!” cried Bladud, “can it be? Am I dreaming?”“This is all very well,” interrupted the impatient Gadarn, “and I have no doubt you are excellent friends though somewhat demonstrative, but we are holding a council of war—not of affection—and as the enemy may be close at hand it behoves us to be smart. Shake hands, Gunrig; you and I must be friends when we fight on the same side. Now, let us to work. Who is to have the chief command?”By universal desire the council appointed Gadarn.“Well, then,” said the commander-in-chief, “this is my view: Addedomar will come expecting to find us all asleep. He will find us all very wide awake. There is a slope in front of this camp leading down to the Swamp. At the bottom is a nice level piece of flat land, bordering on the Swamp, that seems just made for a battlefield. We will drive him and his men down the slope on to that flat, from which, after giving them the toothache, we will drive them into the Swamp, and as close up to the spring-head as we can, so that they may be half boiled alive, if possible. Those who escape the Swamp will find men ambushed on the other side who will drive them into the river. Those who escape the river may go home and take my blessing along with them.”“Then do you intend to divide our troops into two bodies?” asked Bladud.“Of course I do. We can’t have an ambush without dividing, can we?”“Division means weakness,” observed Gunrig.“You were ever obstinate, Gunrig,” said Gadarn, sharply.“Division sometimes means strength,” said Dromas in a conciliatory tone, for he was anxious at least to prevent division in the council. “As Addedomar is ignorant of the strength of our force, his being attacked unexpectedly, and in the dark, by two or three bands at once, from different quarters, will do much to demoralise his men and throw them into confusion.”“Right, my young friend,” rejoined Gadarn; “though you do speak in the tones of one who has been born under other stars, there is sense in your head. That is the very thing I mean to do. We will divide into four bands. I will keep the biggest at the camp to drive them down the slope and begin the fight. Prince Bladud will take one detachment round through the woods to the river and fall upon them from that side. Gunrig, who I know loves the post of danger, will go down between the two mounds and meet the enemy right in the teeth when they are being driven out upon the flat land, and Dromas, as he seems to be a knowing man, might take the ambush on the other side of the Swamp.”“Nay, if I may choose, I would rather fight under my friend Bladud.”“Be it so. Settle that among yourselves. Only I must have Konar with me, for he knows the Swamp well and can roar splendidly. All the enemy below a certain point of courage will turn and split off when they hear his yell. I’m going to make him keep it for them as a little treat at the last. The Hebrew will also keep by me. Now marshal your men and take them off at once. We shan’t have to wait long, for Addedomar is an active villain.”
Arkal’s attention had been arrested by the figure of a man who suddenly appeared from behind a cliff not four hundred yards distant from the scene of their recent exploit. The stealthy manner in which the man moved among the bushes, and the earnest gaze which he directed from time to time in one particular direction, showed clearly that he was watching the movements of something—it might be a deer or an enemy.
“Evidently he has not seen us,” whispered Maikar.
“Clear enough that, for he is not looking this way,” returned Arkal. “He presents his back to us in a careless way, which he would hardly do if he knew that two crack bowmen were a hundred yards astern of him.”
“Shall I shoot him?” whispered Maikar, preparing his weapons.
“He may be a friend,” returned the captain. “But, see! yonder comes what interests him so much. Look!”
He pointed to a distant ridge, over the brow of which the head of Gunrig’s column of men was just appearing.
“He is a scout!” exclaimed Maikar.
“Ay, and you may be sure that an enemy is not far off ahead of our column—unless, perchance, he may be the scout of some tribe friendly to the king. Hold your hand, Maikar. You are ever too ready to fight. Listen, now; yonder is a convenient hollow where I may get into the thick wood unseen by this scout, and run back to warn our friends. Ahead, yonder, is a narrow pass which leads, no doubt, into the next valley. Run you, as fast as your legs can wag, get through that pass, and see what you can see. In the nature of things the scout is almost sure to return through it, if he intends to carry the news of our approach to his people, who are probably there. You must hide and do the best you can to prevent him from doing this—either by killing him or knocking him down. Be off, we have no time to lose.”
“But how if he should be a friend?” asked Maikar with a smile. “How am I to find out?”
Arkal paused and was perplexed.
“You must just exercise your wisdom,” he replied. “If the fellow has an ill-looking countenance, kill him. If he looks a sensible sort of man, stretch him out somehow. I would offer to go instead of you, being more of a match for him, but I could not match his legs or yours, so it might well chance that he would reach the pass before me.”
“Pooh, captain,” retorted Maikar, with a look of scorn. “Ye think too much of yourself, and are unwarrantably puffed up about the advantage of size.”
Without a reply—save a grin—Arkal turned, and, jumping into the bushes, was immediately out of sight. His comrade, before starting off to carry out his part of the programme, took a good look at the scout whom he was bound to circumvent.
He was evidently a tall, powerful man, armed with a bow, a short sword, and a stout staff somewhat longer than himself. That he was also a brave and cool man seemed probable, from the fact that, instead of hurrying off hastily to warn his friends that troops were in sight, he stood calmly leaning on his staff as if for the purpose of ascertaining the exact number of the strangers before reporting them.
He was still engaged in this inspection when Maikar started off and fled on the wings of hope and excitement toward the pass. Arrived there, his first glance revealed to him the troops of Addedomar busy with their evening meal in the valley below.
“The question is, are they friends or foes?” thought the little seaman. “H’m! it’s an awkward thing for a poor fellow not to be quite sure whether to prepare for calms or squalls. Such a misfortune never could befall one at sea. Well, I must just take them to be foes till they prove themselves to be friends. And this scout, what in the world am I to do abouthim? I have no heart to hide in the bushes and shoot him dead as he passes.”
The little man had probably forgotten his readiness to shoot the scout in the back only a few minutes before—but is not mankind at large prone to inconsistency at times?
“I know what I’ll do,” he muttered, pursuing his thoughts, and nodding his head, as he stepped aside into the shrubbery that clothed the slopes of the pass.
Cutting down a suitable branch from a tree, he quickly stripped off the smaller branches and reduced it to a staff about six feet in length. Then, hiding himself behind a part of the cliff which abutted close on the footpath that had been worn through the pass by men and wild animals, he laid his bow and quiver at his feet and awaited the coming of the scout.
He had not to wait long, for that worthy, having ascertained the size of the invading band, came down the pass at a swinging trot. Just as he passed the jutting rock his practised eye caught sight of Maikar in time to avoid the blow of the pole or staff, which was aimed at his head, but not to escape the dig in the ribs with which the little man followed it up.
Instantly the scout’s right hand flew to his quiver, but before he could fix an arrow another blow from the staff broke the bow in his left hand.
Blazing with astonishment and wrath at such rough treatment from so small a man, he stepped back, drew his sword and glared at his opponent.
Maikar also stepped back a pace or two and held up his hand as if for a truce.
“I too have a sword,” he said, pointing to the weapon, “and can use it, but I have no desire to slay you till I know whether you are friend or foe.”
“Slay me! thou insignificant rat!” cried the scout in savage fury. “Even if we were friends I would have to pay thee for that dig in the ribs and the broken bow. But I scorn to take advantage of such a squirrel. Have at thee with my staff!”
Running at him as he spoke, the scout delivered a blow that would have acted like the hammer of Thor had it taken effect, but the seaman deftly dipped his head and the blow fell on a neighbouring birch, and a foot or so of the staff snapped off. What remained, however, was still a formidable weapon, but before the scout could use it he received another dig in the ribs which called forth a yell of indignation rather than of pain.
The appropriateness of the name squirrel now became apparent, for Maikar even excelled that agile creature in the rapidity with which he waltzed round the sturdy scout and delivered his stinging little blows. To do the scout justice, he played his part like a brave and active warrior, so that it seemed to rain blows and digs in all directions, and, once or twice, as by a miracle, Maikar escaped what threatened to be little, if at all, short of extermination. As in running, so in fighting, it is the pace that kills. After five minutes or so both combatants were winded. They separated, as if by mutual consent, and, leaning on their staves, panted vehemently.
Then at it they went again.
“Thou little scrap of a pig’s snout, come on,” shouted the scout in huge disdain.
“Thou big skinful of pride! look out!” cried Maikar, rendering the adoption of his own advice impossible by thrusting the butt of his staff against the scout’s nose, and thereby filling his eyes with water. At the next moment he rendered him still more helpless by bestowing a whack on his crown which laid him flat on the footpath.
A cheer behind him at that moment caused the little man to look round, when he found that the head of Gunrig’s column, led by Arkal, had come up just in time to witness the final blow.
They were still crowding round the fallen man, and asking hurried questions about him, when a voice from the heights above hailed them. Instantly a score or two of arrows were pointed in that direction.
“Hold your hands, men!” shouted Gunrig. “I know that voice—ay, and the face too. Is it not the white beard of our friend the Hebrew that I see?”
A few minutes more proved that he was right, for the well-known figure of Beniah descended the sides of the pass.
The news he brought proved to be both surprising and perplexing, for up to that moment Gunrig had been utterly ignorant of the recent arrival of Gadarn from the far north in search of his lost daughter, though of course he was well aware of the various unsuccessful efforts that had been made by King Hudibras in that direction. Moreover, he chanced to be not on the best of terms with Gadarn just at that time. Then the fact that Bladud had recovered his health and was actively engaged in the search—not, indeed, so much for Branwen as for a youth named Cormac—was also surprising as well as disagreeable news to Gunrig.
“And who is this Cormac in whom the prince seems to be so interested?” he asked.
Here poor Beniah, held fast by his solemn promise, was compelled to give an evasive answer.
“All that I can tell about him,” he replied, “is that he is a kind young fellow to whose attention and nursing the prince thinks himself indebted for his life. But had we not better question this young man?” he added, turning to the scout. “I have heard rumours about robbers lurking somewhere hereabouts—hence my coming out alone to scout the country round, little dreaming that I should find the men of King Hudibras so near.”
“If robbers are said to be hereabouts,” broke in Maikar at this point, “I can tell you where to find them, I think, for I saw a band of men in the hollow just beyond this pass.”
“Say you so?” exclaimed Gunrig; “fetch the prisoner here.”
The scout, who had recovered his senses by that time, was led forward, but doggedly refused to give any information.
“Kindle a fire, men; we will roast him alive, and perhaps that will teach him to speak.”
It was by no means unusual for men in those days to use torture for the purpose of extracting information from obstinate prisoners. At first the man maintained his resolution, but when he saw that his captors were in earnest, and about to light the fire, his courage failed him. He confessed that he was a scout, and that Addedomar was there with several other well-known chiefs and a body of four hundred men.
Thereupon the man was bound and put in the safe keeping of several men whose lives were to be forfeited if he should escape. Then Gunrig, Dromas, Beniah, Arkal, Maikar, and several other chief men retired under a tree to hold a council of war. Their deliberations resulted in the following conclusions.
First, that the number of warriors at their disposal, counting those of King Hudibras and those under Gadarn, amounted to a sufficient force wherewith to meet the invaders in open fight; second, that a junction between their forces must be effected that night, for, according to usual custom in such circumstances, the enemy would be pretty sure to attack before daybreak in the morning; and, third, that what was to be done must be set about as soon as darkness favoured their operations.
“You can guide us in the dark, I suppose,” said Gunrig, turning to Beniah.
“Ay, as well almost as in the light,” replied the Hebrew.
“Let the men feed, then, and be ready for the signal to start,” said the chief to his officers, “and see that no louder noise be heard than the crunching of their jaws.”
The night was favourable to their enterprise. The moon was indeed risen, but clouds entirely hid it, yet allowed a soft light to pass through which rendered objects close at hand quite visible. Before midnight they started on the march in profound silence, and, led by Beniah, made a widedétourwhich brought them to the encampment of Gadarn. As may easily be understood, that chief was well pleased at the turn events had taken, for, to say truth, his little joke of trotting Beniah about the land and keeping him in perplexity, had begun to pall, and he had for some days past been hunting about for a plausible excuse for abandoning the search and going to visit King Hudibras.
His difficulty in this matter was increased by his unwillingness to reveal the true state of matters to Bladud, yet he knew that unless he did so the prince would utterly refuse to abandon the search for Cormac. Another thing that perplexed the chief greatly was—how the Hebrew, knowing Branwen as he did, had failed to recognise her in the lad Cormac, for of course he knew nothing of the promise that held the Hebrew’s lips tied; his daughter—who was as fond of a joke as himself—having taken care not to revealallthe complications that had arisen in regard to herself.
The sudden appearance, therefore, of foes with whom he could fight proved to be a sort of fortunate safety-valve, and, besides, he had the comfort of thinking that he would fight in a good cause, for the region of the Hot Swamp belonged to his friend Hudibras, and this robber Addedomar was a notorious rascal who required extirpating, while the chiefs who had joined him were little better.
The council of war that was hastily called included Bladud, who was sent for, being asleep in his own booth when the party arrived. The council chamber was under an old oak tree.
When Bladud came forward he was suddenly struck motionless and glared as if he had seen a ghost. For the first time in his life he felt an emotion of supernatural fear—for there, in the flesh apparently, stood his friend Dromas.
A smile from the latter reassured him. Leaping forward he seized his friend’s hand, but the impulsive Greek was not to be put off thus. He threw an arm round the prince’s neck and kissed his cheek.
“Dromas!” cried Bladud, “can it be? Am I dreaming?”
“This is all very well,” interrupted the impatient Gadarn, “and I have no doubt you are excellent friends though somewhat demonstrative, but we are holding a council of war—not of affection—and as the enemy may be close at hand it behoves us to be smart. Shake hands, Gunrig; you and I must be friends when we fight on the same side. Now, let us to work. Who is to have the chief command?”
By universal desire the council appointed Gadarn.
“Well, then,” said the commander-in-chief, “this is my view: Addedomar will come expecting to find us all asleep. He will find us all very wide awake. There is a slope in front of this camp leading down to the Swamp. At the bottom is a nice level piece of flat land, bordering on the Swamp, that seems just made for a battlefield. We will drive him and his men down the slope on to that flat, from which, after giving them the toothache, we will drive them into the Swamp, and as close up to the spring-head as we can, so that they may be half boiled alive, if possible. Those who escape the Swamp will find men ambushed on the other side who will drive them into the river. Those who escape the river may go home and take my blessing along with them.”
“Then do you intend to divide our troops into two bodies?” asked Bladud.
“Of course I do. We can’t have an ambush without dividing, can we?”
“Division means weakness,” observed Gunrig.
“You were ever obstinate, Gunrig,” said Gadarn, sharply.
“Division sometimes means strength,” said Dromas in a conciliatory tone, for he was anxious at least to prevent division in the council. “As Addedomar is ignorant of the strength of our force, his being attacked unexpectedly, and in the dark, by two or three bands at once, from different quarters, will do much to demoralise his men and throw them into confusion.”
“Right, my young friend,” rejoined Gadarn; “though you do speak in the tones of one who has been born under other stars, there is sense in your head. That is the very thing I mean to do. We will divide into four bands. I will keep the biggest at the camp to drive them down the slope and begin the fight. Prince Bladud will take one detachment round through the woods to the river and fall upon them from that side. Gunrig, who I know loves the post of danger, will go down between the two mounds and meet the enemy right in the teeth when they are being driven out upon the flat land, and Dromas, as he seems to be a knowing man, might take the ambush on the other side of the Swamp.”
“Nay, if I may choose, I would rather fight under my friend Bladud.”
“Be it so. Settle that among yourselves. Only I must have Konar with me, for he knows the Swamp well and can roar splendidly. All the enemy below a certain point of courage will turn and split off when they hear his yell. I’m going to make him keep it for them as a little treat at the last. The Hebrew will also keep by me. Now marshal your men and take them off at once. We shan’t have to wait long, for Addedomar is an active villain.”
Chapter Twenty Nine.The Battle of the Springs.Gadarn was right. The robber chief was very early astir that morning, and marched with his host so silently through the forest, that the very birds on the boughs gave them, as they passed underneath, but a sleepy wink of one eye and thrust their beaks again under their wings.Not knowing the country thoroughly, however, Addedomar met some slight obstructions, which, necessitating occasional détours from the straight path, delayed him a little, so that it was very near dawn when he reached the neighbourhood of Gadarn’s camp. Hesitation in the circumstances he knew would be ruinous; he therefore neglected the precaution of feeling his way by sending scouts in advance, and made straight for the enemy’s camp. Scouts previously sent out had ascertained its exact position, so that he had no doubt of effecting a complete surprise.Many noted battles have been fought and described in this world, but few, if any, we should think, will compare with the famous battle of the Springs in the completeness of the victory.Coming out upon the flat which Gadarn had determined should be the battle-field, and to the left of which the hot springs that caused the swamp were flowing, Addedomar marshalled his men for the final assault. Before reaching the flat they had passed almost within bow-shot of the spot where Gunrig and his men lay in ambush, and that chief might easily have fallen upon and killed many of them, had he not been restrained by the strict orders of Gadarn to let them pass on to the camp unmolested. It is true Gunrig found it very hard to hold his hand, but as Gadarn had been constituted commander-in-chief without a dissentient voice, in virtue of his superior intelligence and indomitable resolution, he felt bound to obey.Bladud and his friend Dromas, with their contingent, being at the lower end of the flat and far out of bow-shot, were not thus tempted to disobey orders. The ambuscade on the other side of the Swamp had been put under the command of Captain Arkal, with Maikar for his lieutenant. Being entirely ignorant of what was going on, the men of this contingent lay close, abiding their time.Inaction, during the development of some critical manoeuvre, while awaiting the signal to be up and doing, is hard to bear. Arkal and his men whiled away the time in whispered conversations, which related more or less to the part they were expected to play.“If any of the robbers reach this side of the swamp alive,” remarked Arkal, “there will be no need to kill them.”“What then? would you let them escape?” asked Maikar in surprise.“Not on this side of the river,” returned the captain. “But we might drive them into it, and as it is in roaring flood just now, most of them will probably be drowned. The few who escape will do us service by telling the tale of their defeat to their friends.”He ceased to whisper, for just then the dawning light showed them the dusky forms of the enemy stealing noiselessly but swiftly over the flat.At their head strode Addedomar and a few of his stoutest men. Reaching the slope that led to the camp the four hundred men rushed up, still, however, in perfect silence, expecting to take their victims by surprise. But before they gained the summit a body of men burst out from the woods on either side of the track, and leaped upon them with a prolonged roar that must have been the rudimentary form of a British cheer.The effect on the robbers was tremendous. On beholding the huge forms of Gadarn, Konar, and Beniah coming on in front they turned and fled like autumn leaves before a gale, without waiting even to discharge a single arrow. The courageous Addedomar was overwhelmed by the panic and carried away in the rush. Gadarn, supposing that the attack would have been made earlier and in the dark, had left the bows of his force behind, intending to depend entirely on swords and clubs. But he found that the robbers were swift of foot and that terror lent wings, for they did not overtake them at once. Down the slope went the robbers, and down went the roaring northmen, until both parties swept out upon the flat below.They did not scatter, however. Addedomar’s men had been trained to keep together even in flight, and they now made for the gully between the mounds, their chief intending to face about there and show fight on the slopes of the pass. But the flying host had barely entered it, when they were assaulted and driven back by the forces under Gunrig, who went at them with a shout that told of previous severe restraint. The fugitives could not stand it. The arrows, which even during flight were being got ready for Gadarn’s host, were suddenly discharged at the men in the gully; but the aim was wild, and the only shaft which took serious effect found its billet in the breast of Gunrig himself. He plucked it savagely out and continued the charge at the head of his men.Turning sharp to the left, the robbers then made for the lower end of the flat, still followed closely by Gadarn’s band, now swelled by that of Gunrig. As had been anticipated, they almost ran into the arms of Bladud’s contingent, which met them with a yell of rage, and the yell was answered by a shriek of terror.Their retreat being thus cut off in nearly all directions, the panic-stricken crew doubled to the left again, and sprang into the swamp, closely followed by their ever-increasing foes. At first and at some distance from the fountain-head the water felt warm and grateful to the lower limbs of the fugitives, but as they plunged in deeper and nearer to the springs, it became uncomfortably hot, and they began to scatter all over the place, in the hope of finding cool water. Some who knew the locality were successful. Others, who did not know it, rushed from hot to hotter, while some, who were blindly struggling toward the source of the evil at last began to yell with pain, and no wonder, for the temperature of the springs then—as it has been ever since, and is at the present day—was 120 degrees of Fahrenheit—a degree of heat, in water, which man is not fitted to bear with equanimity.“Now, Konar, give them a tune fromyourpipe,” said Gadarn, whose eyes were blazing with excitement.The hunter of the Swamp obeyed, and it seemed as though a mammoth bull of Bashan had been suddenly let loose on the fugitives.To add to the turmoil a large herd of Bladud’s pigs, disturbed from their lair, were driven into the hot water, where they swam about in a frantic state, filling the whole region with horrid yells, which, mingling with those of the human sufferers, and the incessant barking of Brownie, rendered confusion worse confounded, and caused the wild animals far and near to flee from the region as if it had become Pandemonium!The pigs, however, unlike the men, knew how to find the cooler parts of the swamp.Perceiving his error when he stood knee-deep in the swamp, Gadarn now sought to rectify it by sending a detachment of swift runners back for his bows and arrows. But this manoeuvre took time, and before it could be carried out the half-boiled host had gained the other side of the Swamp, and were massing themselves together preparatory to a retreat into the thick woods.“Now isourtime,” said Arkal, rising up and drawing his sword. Then, with a nautical shout, and almost in the words of a late warrior of note, he cried, “Up, men, and at them!”And the men obeyed with such alacrity and such inconceivable violence, that the stricken enemy did not await the onset. They incontinently sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees with mother earth, and scooted towards the river, into which they all plunged without a moment’s consideration.Arkal and his men paused on the brink to watch the result; but the seaman was wrong about the probable fate of the vanquished, for every man of the robber band could swim like an otter, besides being in a fit condition to enjoy the cooler stream. They all reached the opposite bank in safety. Scrambling out, they took to the woods without once looking back, and finally disappeared.During the remainder of that day Gadarn could do little else than chuckle or laugh.Bladud’s comment was that it had been “most successful.”“A bloodless victory!” remarked Beniah.“And didn’t they yell?” said Arkal.“And splutter?” added Maikar.“And the pigs! oh! the pigs!” cried Gadarn, going off into another explosion which brought the tears to his eyes, “it would have been nothing without the pigs!”The gentle reader must make allowance for the feelings of men fresh from the excitement of such a scene, existing as they did in times so very remote. But, after all, when we take into consideration the circumstances; the nature of the weapons used; the cause of the war, and the objects gained, and compare it all with the circumstances, weapons, causes, and objects of modern warfare, we are constrained to admit that it was a “most glorious victory”—this Battle of the Springs.
Gadarn was right. The robber chief was very early astir that morning, and marched with his host so silently through the forest, that the very birds on the boughs gave them, as they passed underneath, but a sleepy wink of one eye and thrust their beaks again under their wings.
Not knowing the country thoroughly, however, Addedomar met some slight obstructions, which, necessitating occasional détours from the straight path, delayed him a little, so that it was very near dawn when he reached the neighbourhood of Gadarn’s camp. Hesitation in the circumstances he knew would be ruinous; he therefore neglected the precaution of feeling his way by sending scouts in advance, and made straight for the enemy’s camp. Scouts previously sent out had ascertained its exact position, so that he had no doubt of effecting a complete surprise.
Many noted battles have been fought and described in this world, but few, if any, we should think, will compare with the famous battle of the Springs in the completeness of the victory.
Coming out upon the flat which Gadarn had determined should be the battle-field, and to the left of which the hot springs that caused the swamp were flowing, Addedomar marshalled his men for the final assault. Before reaching the flat they had passed almost within bow-shot of the spot where Gunrig and his men lay in ambush, and that chief might easily have fallen upon and killed many of them, had he not been restrained by the strict orders of Gadarn to let them pass on to the camp unmolested. It is true Gunrig found it very hard to hold his hand, but as Gadarn had been constituted commander-in-chief without a dissentient voice, in virtue of his superior intelligence and indomitable resolution, he felt bound to obey.
Bladud and his friend Dromas, with their contingent, being at the lower end of the flat and far out of bow-shot, were not thus tempted to disobey orders. The ambuscade on the other side of the Swamp had been put under the command of Captain Arkal, with Maikar for his lieutenant. Being entirely ignorant of what was going on, the men of this contingent lay close, abiding their time.
Inaction, during the development of some critical manoeuvre, while awaiting the signal to be up and doing, is hard to bear. Arkal and his men whiled away the time in whispered conversations, which related more or less to the part they were expected to play.
“If any of the robbers reach this side of the swamp alive,” remarked Arkal, “there will be no need to kill them.”
“What then? would you let them escape?” asked Maikar in surprise.
“Not on this side of the river,” returned the captain. “But we might drive them into it, and as it is in roaring flood just now, most of them will probably be drowned. The few who escape will do us service by telling the tale of their defeat to their friends.”
He ceased to whisper, for just then the dawning light showed them the dusky forms of the enemy stealing noiselessly but swiftly over the flat.
At their head strode Addedomar and a few of his stoutest men. Reaching the slope that led to the camp the four hundred men rushed up, still, however, in perfect silence, expecting to take their victims by surprise. But before they gained the summit a body of men burst out from the woods on either side of the track, and leaped upon them with a prolonged roar that must have been the rudimentary form of a British cheer.
The effect on the robbers was tremendous. On beholding the huge forms of Gadarn, Konar, and Beniah coming on in front they turned and fled like autumn leaves before a gale, without waiting even to discharge a single arrow. The courageous Addedomar was overwhelmed by the panic and carried away in the rush. Gadarn, supposing that the attack would have been made earlier and in the dark, had left the bows of his force behind, intending to depend entirely on swords and clubs. But he found that the robbers were swift of foot and that terror lent wings, for they did not overtake them at once. Down the slope went the robbers, and down went the roaring northmen, until both parties swept out upon the flat below.
They did not scatter, however. Addedomar’s men had been trained to keep together even in flight, and they now made for the gully between the mounds, their chief intending to face about there and show fight on the slopes of the pass. But the flying host had barely entered it, when they were assaulted and driven back by the forces under Gunrig, who went at them with a shout that told of previous severe restraint. The fugitives could not stand it. The arrows, which even during flight were being got ready for Gadarn’s host, were suddenly discharged at the men in the gully; but the aim was wild, and the only shaft which took serious effect found its billet in the breast of Gunrig himself. He plucked it savagely out and continued the charge at the head of his men.
Turning sharp to the left, the robbers then made for the lower end of the flat, still followed closely by Gadarn’s band, now swelled by that of Gunrig. As had been anticipated, they almost ran into the arms of Bladud’s contingent, which met them with a yell of rage, and the yell was answered by a shriek of terror.
Their retreat being thus cut off in nearly all directions, the panic-stricken crew doubled to the left again, and sprang into the swamp, closely followed by their ever-increasing foes. At first and at some distance from the fountain-head the water felt warm and grateful to the lower limbs of the fugitives, but as they plunged in deeper and nearer to the springs, it became uncomfortably hot, and they began to scatter all over the place, in the hope of finding cool water. Some who knew the locality were successful. Others, who did not know it, rushed from hot to hotter, while some, who were blindly struggling toward the source of the evil at last began to yell with pain, and no wonder, for the temperature of the springs then—as it has been ever since, and is at the present day—was 120 degrees of Fahrenheit—a degree of heat, in water, which man is not fitted to bear with equanimity.
“Now, Konar, give them a tune fromyourpipe,” said Gadarn, whose eyes were blazing with excitement.
The hunter of the Swamp obeyed, and it seemed as though a mammoth bull of Bashan had been suddenly let loose on the fugitives.
To add to the turmoil a large herd of Bladud’s pigs, disturbed from their lair, were driven into the hot water, where they swam about in a frantic state, filling the whole region with horrid yells, which, mingling with those of the human sufferers, and the incessant barking of Brownie, rendered confusion worse confounded, and caused the wild animals far and near to flee from the region as if it had become Pandemonium!
The pigs, however, unlike the men, knew how to find the cooler parts of the swamp.
Perceiving his error when he stood knee-deep in the swamp, Gadarn now sought to rectify it by sending a detachment of swift runners back for his bows and arrows. But this manoeuvre took time, and before it could be carried out the half-boiled host had gained the other side of the Swamp, and were massing themselves together preparatory to a retreat into the thick woods.
“Now isourtime,” said Arkal, rising up and drawing his sword. Then, with a nautical shout, and almost in the words of a late warrior of note, he cried, “Up, men, and at them!”
And the men obeyed with such alacrity and such inconceivable violence, that the stricken enemy did not await the onset. They incontinently sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees with mother earth, and scooted towards the river, into which they all plunged without a moment’s consideration.
Arkal and his men paused on the brink to watch the result; but the seaman was wrong about the probable fate of the vanquished, for every man of the robber band could swim like an otter, besides being in a fit condition to enjoy the cooler stream. They all reached the opposite bank in safety. Scrambling out, they took to the woods without once looking back, and finally disappeared.
During the remainder of that day Gadarn could do little else than chuckle or laugh.
Bladud’s comment was that it had been “most successful.”
“A bloodless victory!” remarked Beniah.
“And didn’t they yell?” said Arkal.
“And splutter?” added Maikar.
“And the pigs! oh! the pigs!” cried Gadarn, going off into another explosion which brought the tears to his eyes, “it would have been nothing without the pigs!”
The gentle reader must make allowance for the feelings of men fresh from the excitement of such a scene, existing as they did in times so very remote. But, after all, when we take into consideration the circumstances; the nature of the weapons used; the cause of the war, and the objects gained, and compare it all with the circumstances, weapons, causes, and objects of modern warfare, we are constrained to admit that it was a “most glorious victory”—this Battle of the Springs.