CAPTAIN GO-WHIZZ AND HIS LIEUTENANT THREATEN THE LITTLE BARON
CAPTAIN GO-WHIZZ AND HIS LIEUTENANT THREATEN THE LITTLE BARON
CAPTAIN GO-WHIZZ AND HIS LIEUTENANT THREATEN THE LITTLE BARON
So pleasant did they find the effects of the warmth that they resolved to pass the night there and threw themselves down on the ground as close to the fire as they deemed it prudent to go.
About midnight a gentle scratching on my arm from Bulger’s paw, told me that something unusual had happened, for he never awakened me unless he was quite sure that the matter was serious enough to warrant him in disturbing me.
I found the village in the wildest state of alarm. Ear-piercing screams from the women mingled with the deep rumbling outcries of the men.
You have no doubt, already guessed what had happened. The facts were simply these: In the night, the cold had increased, and several of the Wind Eaters, half asleep, and half stupefied by the deep draughts of the boisterous north-west wind, had approached closer and closer to the fire, when suddenly the vast quantity of cold air which they had swallowed began to expand and four of them exploded with a terrific noise.
In quicker time than it takes to tell it, my dwelling was surrounded by a screaming, shrieking, howling mob of Wind Eaters, demanding my instant death.
It required all of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s influence with his people to save me from being entangled in their fatal nets and beaten to death on the spot.
To make matters a thousand times worse, the bully and swaggerer, Go-Whizz, entered the village at this very moment, with a pack of his quarrelsome hangers-on at his heels. He had been away on a secret trip to the farthest northern point of the island, where the north wind howls and roars its maddest. I had never seen him puffed up so to the very bursting point with his favorite food.
When he heard of the fate which had overtaken his fourcomrades, his fury knew no bounds. He and his followers pounded their chests until the air quivered with deep and rumbling sounds, while ever and anon they broke out into the wildest lamentations for their dead companions. He openly and boldly charged chief Ztwish-Ztwish with having betrayed his people and given over their once happy island to certain ruin at the hands of the “little monster thick-all-through,” who, by his dread magic and foul mysteries, would soon bring their people to feed upon stones like himself.
Day now began to break; and with the coming light, the confusion in the village seemed to take on new strength. So sure was I that death was about to strike me that I wrote out several messages to the elder baron and to the gentle baroness, my mother, on the leaves of my note-book, and left directions with one of the chief’s serving-men that, in case of my death, it was my wish that he should send them to my people, whom he would find on my ship in the beautiful bay on the distant shore of the island.
I said nothing about Bulger, for I knew only too well that he would die by my side.
I prepared for the worst. I examined the primings of my pocket-pistols, and concealed my dagger under my coat at the back of my neck, where I would be better able to reach it, if it came to close quarters.
This done, I proceeded to cut my finger-nails to as sharp points as I could, for I was determined to sell my life as dearly as possible.
While I felt confident of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s affection for me, yet I couldn’t tell at what moment he might lose courage and turn me over to the mob, in order to save himself.
Bulger watched all my preparations with wide-opened and intelligent eyes, occasionally giving utterance to a low, nervous whine, as the howling, shrieking, roaring mob surged back and forth in front of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s dwelling.
By the law of the land, the common people were prohibited from entering the inner enclosure of the chief’s abode, but Go-Whizz, being one of the nobles or minor chiefs, wasentitled to advance into the chief’s presence and state his wrongs or make his requests.
So now, the raging Go-Whizz, parting from his followers, who never ceased crying out for vengeance upon the “little demon Lump,” who, on two different occasions, had spread death and destruction among their people, strode into the presence of chief Ztwish-Ztwish.
The chief was calm. He had not partaken of food for four and twenty hours, and stood up, wrinkled, creased and seamed, as the Wind Eaters always look when fasting. Near him sat queen Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh, while directly behind him were ranged his three councillors, Hiss-sah, Whirr-Whirr, and Sh-Boom. They were well-rounded out by recent draughts of the strong and wholesome west wind, and hence, looked as contented and smiling as Ztwish-Ztwish looked sad and solemn. I stood in an adjoining apartment, concealed behind a bamboo screen, with my faithful Bulger by my side. I was so placed that I could see all, without being seen myself. Chief Ztwish-Ztwish knew of my presence there.
As Bulger caught a glimpse of the raging and bellowing Go-Whizz, he grew so nervous that I was obliged to stoop and stroke his head to let him know I feared nothing. But the fact of the matter is, great dangers always exert a subduing influence upon me.
I face them cooly, but sadly, for my thoughts in such moments go back to the elder baron and to the gentle baroness, my mother, in the far-away home ’neath the skies of the beloved fatherland.
Like a huge football impelled by the kick of some gigantic foot, Go-Whizz landed in the audience chamber of chief Ztwish-Ztwish. He shook his arms violently, and bounded up and down with inward fury, for he was still too much beside himself with rage to utter any other sound than a deep rumbling growl or mutter.
From my place behind the bamboo screen I followed, with all the keenness of sight for which I am so justly famous, every movement of the furious Go-Whizz, as well as the actionsand demeanor of chief Ztwish-Ztwish and of his councillors, for I was determined not to be caught napping in case any signs of treachery should be visible. At the very first glance I saw that the rebellious Go-Whizz had something hidden in his girdle, and from the shape and length I knew at once that it was a flint knife. Quick as thought, I beckoned a serving man to my side and sent a message to the chief, telling the attendant to appear to be engaged in waving the branches of perfumed leaves as was his duty while he whispered it in the chief’s ear.
It was as follows:
“Be on thy guard! O, Chief. The brawler hath a flint knife hidden in his girdle. He will attempt to slay thee. Be careful! Be calm!”
Go-Whizz had now quieted down a little; but, with a voice of thunder, he began his tirade. He pictured the long years of peace and happiness on their island, the blessings they had enjoyed under the long and glorious line of rulers of which Ztwish-Ztwish was the worthy descendant. He thundered out defiance against all the enemies of the Wind Eaters and as softly as possible roared his own praises telling of the many deeds of valor he had performed in Ztwish-Ztwish’s service and ended by declaring himself ready and willing to die for his beloved chief.
When Go-Whizz had spoken, the chief bowed his head for a few moments in silence and then made answer: “Thou hast spoken truly and wisely, O Go-Whizz! Thou art brave. Thou hast the right to demand favor at my hands! Speak, Go-Whizz, what may Ztwish-Ztwish do for thee?”
At these words of Ztwish-Ztwish, all the former fury of Go-Whizz broke forth once more. Pounding his chest and striding up and down the audience chamber, he roared out:
“That thou givest into my hands this very hour, the ‘Solid Demon,’ the dreaded ‘Man-Lump,’ the monster ‘Thick-All-Through’ who hath brought all this death and ruin into our peaceful land!”
Chief Ztwish-Ztwish was silent for a few moments.
Need I tell you that my very heart listened for the reply?
I could hear nothing but the deep, coarse, grating sound of Go-Whizz’s breath as I leaned forward to catch the first word which should fall from the chief’s lips.
It seemed a lifetime. At length Ztwish-Ztwish spoke:
“My brother, thou art inflamed with the deep draughts of the fierce and raging north wind! Thou art beside thyself. Thou seest not clearly! I must not adjudge death except when the decree will rest on the laws of our fathers. True, the ‘Little Man-Thick-All-Through’ hath been the cause of great misfortune to our people, but the innocent cause. He hath not striven or desired to harm us. He is a lover of peace, a friend of his kind. My followers were warned of the danger of the crimson tongues. The ‘Man Lump’ did not seek their death. And full well too, thou knowest that the laws of our fathers bid us to hold the lives of our guests as sacred as the texture of our skin. Go thy way, therefore, Go-Whizz, I cannot doom the ‘Man Lump’ to death.
“Is this,” roared the disappointed leader, “the kind of justice which thou givest to my people?”
“Ay, is it, thou brawler!” replied chief Ztwish-Ztwish, now fast losing control over himself. “Hold thy peace and depart, lest in my wrath at thy frequent wrong doing I give thee over to merited punishment!”
“Have a care, Ztwish-Ztwish!” roared Go-Whizz, boiling over with rage, “have a care lest thy people rise in their might and cast thee out, thou unjust ruler!”
“Begone, I say!” was Ztwish-Ztwish’s calm but stern reply.
“Go thou first, then, traitor to thy people!” thundered out Go-Whizz, springing forward with the flint knife raised high in the air.
Cries of terror burst from those gathered in the audience chamber. But chief Ztwish-Ztwish calmly put forth his hand and touched the would-be assassin.
With a deafening crack the body of the raging Go-Whizz flew into a thousand pieces, like a huge balloon seized by the hands of the tempest and whirled against the spear-like branches of some shattered oaken monarch of the plain.
Queen Phew-yoo and princess Pouf-fâh, bewildered and terror-stricken, clung to each other, while silent fear sat on the faces of those around the chief. But he was calm, and spoke a few words in a mild and steady voice to the queen and the princess.
When the people learned of Go-Whizz’s attempt to slay their ruler and how the brawler, at the very instant he lifted the flint knife to strike, had been mysteriously stricken dead at Ztwish-Ztwish’s feet, they sent up loud huzzas, for the fierce Go-Whizz was more feared than loved, even by his followers.
It required several days for the village of the Wind Eaters to quiet down and take on its every-day look, after the mysterious death of Go-Whizz; but, with his disappearance vanished all opposition to chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s rule.
The people firmly believed that it was the avenging spirits of the air who had touched the brawler with their sword points when he raised his hand against their ruler.
I need hardly tell you that the chief’s gratitude to me knew no bounds. No gifts were too beautiful or too costly to be offered me. And the fact that I declined them all, only seemed to strengthen his affection for me.
But how could I, how dared I reject the gift of the hand of the fair princess Pouf-fâh?
To do this would be to undo all that I have done, to make Ztwish-Ztwish my enemy, to transform his love into hate, his confidence into suspicion—possibly to write my own death warrant.
There was but one course left for me to pursue. And that was escape!
And escape, too, it must be at once, before I had lost the chief’s confidence. One of Ztwish-Ztwish’s first acts after his rescue from the flint knife of the murderous Go-Whizz, was to restore to me the tiny instrument with the invisible point.
This done, a terrible load seemed to be lifted from his mind. He became himself again. And with his returning happiness and content, came a still stronger desire to hasten my marriage with the princess Pouf-fâh.
With the greatest caution, I made this and that excuse, in order to gain time to collect my thoughts and settle upon some sure plan of escape, for recapture I knew meant death, or worse than death—imprisonment until I should consent to give up all desire to leave the island of the Wind Eaters, and pledge myself to become, so far as nature would permit, one of their people.
Cautious as I was, my excuses awakened suspicion.
The first proof of this was to find that orders had been given to cut off my supply of fish.
Queen Phew-yoo was afraid that so long as I was permitted to have all the solid food I wanted, I would not grow thin enough to be content with air diet, and, therefore, not satisfied to make my home among them for the rest of my life.
The next thing to happen to me was to find my supply of oysters and mussels reduced one-half by orders of Phew-yoo. This meant yield or starve!
It struck me like a bolt out of a clear sky!
But it has always been just such blows as this which have, throughout my life, aroused me to calm, quick, intelligent action.
I hesitated no longer. My plan reached perfection in a single moment. When nightfall came I hastily scrawled a few lines addressed to my sailing-master, telling him of the fate which threatened to overtake me and bidding him arm a few trusty men and hasten to my rescue. This I tied to the collar of my loved and faithful Bulger. He covered my hand with caresses and I held him clasped in my arms for an instant while the tears fell hot and fast. Then I softly opened the door of my bamboo lodge.
The night was bright and glorious. “Away, my beloved Bulger!” I whispered, stooping and pressing my lips for the last time on his silken ears and shapely head. “To the ship! Away!” He paused, looked into my face, gave a low whine as if to say: “Ay, ay, little master, I understand!” And away he sprang like the wind. For an instant I could follow him as with a long and sturdy bound he sped along! And then he was gone!
The next morning, to my utter astonishment, I was informed that all the preparations for the marriage of the princess Pouf-fâh and the “little man thick-all-through,” were completed and that the feasting and merrymaking would begin the day following.
This piece of news, startling as it was, I received with perfect calmness. I completely disarmed all suspicion by my apparent satisfaction with the bright prospect of becoming the son-in-law of the great chief Ztwish-Ztwish. I searched my pockets for trinkets to bestow upon the light and airy Pouf-fâh.
Queen Phew-yoo was not visible. So great had been the joy of her mother’s heart that in a moment of weakness she had partaken too greedily of the rich, but unwholesome east wind and was now suffering from a fearful attack of dyspepsia.
This was a most fortunate thing for me, for I am quite certain that queen Phew-yoo would never have consented to allow me to return to my own apartments that night. There was now but one thing left for me to do and that was to make for the distant sea-coast, where I had left my ship and crew.
And start, too, that very night. As ill luck would have it, chief Ztwish-Ztwish, noticing that a delightfully strong west wind had begun to blow insisted upon having a sort of preliminary feast about sundown.
I was invited to join the party.
Not daring to refuse, I set out with the merry-makers and not only tired myself out by making frantic efforts to fill myself with their invisible food but it was nearly midnight before the village grew perfectly quiet and everybody seemed to have closed the doors and windows of his dwelling. But, after all, the rioting of the Wind Eaters was a fortunate thing for me. They went to bed so gorged with many and deep draughts of the hearty and filling west wind, that they slept like logs, if you will allow me to compare puff-balls to solid wood.
I waited until the rumbling of the voices had died away as the last group of roysterers broke up and the solitary Wind Eaters, scattered along the streets, disappeared one by one into their bamboo dwellings.
Leaving my door fastened on the inside, I sprang lightly through the window, and under cover of the deep shadows made my way unnoticed to the outskirts of the town. Here I broke into a sharp run, for at very most I would have but six hours’ start of the Wind Eaters and that was far too little; for, as I have already told you, they flit along like phantoms when in a fasting condition, and even when pretty well filled, are very swift of foot—more especially if the air be quiet so as not to impede their advance.
On, on, I sped with a desperate resolve to make such a good use of my start as to make it impossible for them to overtake me.
To my horror, after about an hour’s run I noticed that my legs were beginning to tire.
This was a terrible blow to me. For a few moments I staggered along half unconscious of where I was, whither I was hastening and of the awful danger threatening me. All at once the truth of the matter broke upon me.
I was but the wreck of my former self. The long months of fish diet had robbed my muscles of that wonderful strength and elasticity which was once my pride and my chief dependence in moments of peril.
Frail as I had grown, my legs now bent beneath me.
Slower and slower grew my pace. My heart seemed to swell and shut out the very breath of life.
On, ever onward, I toiled with a desperate effort to escape my pursuers, whose rumbling voices it half seemed to me were faintly booming in the distance.
But Nature would do no more!
I reeled, I staggered, I stopped, I fell!
How long I lay there I know not. But when I came to myself, I could plainly feel that change in the air which tells of the coming day. The rippling of a brook fell on my ear. I dragged my aching body in the direction the sound came from. A deep pull at the cool, clear water of the brook refreshed me somewhat. I attempted to rise; but, O, new loss of hope—to discover that my joints had stiffened while sleeping on the ground, uncovered, yes, even ill-clad, for I had left one pieceof my clothing hanging on the window-sill of my lodge in the village, to quiet any suspicion which might arise in the minds of the serving-men.
Thoughts of home, however, of the elder baron, of the gentle baroness, my mother, of my loved Bulger, flitted through my fevered brain, and prompted me to make one more effort to regain my feet and escape death at the hands of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s enraged people, who would soon be bounding along, up hill and down dale, like spirits of the wind, as they were.
A groan escaped my lips as I rose to my feet, so like knife-points in my joints were the pains which shot through my frame.
But I must try to be up and away, even though the effort cost me a thousand agonizing twinges.
I owe it to the loved ones at home to push on till I fall utterly broken, till, like a stricken beast, robbed of the power to stand, I should topple and fall at the feet and at the mercy of my pursuers.
Such were the thoughts which oppressed my poor, reeling brain.
A terrible mystery, a torturing dream weighed me down.
I still had my mind. I could see. I could feel. I could hear. And why should I not rise and move onward, and away from the certain death which hovered over me?
Crazed by such thoughts, I struggled to my feet and staggered along, sending forth a groan with every step!
But I had steeled myself to the task, and dragged myself along, still oppressed by some strange and mysterious power, which gave to every pebble the rock’s size, and widened every gully to a yawning chasm, on the brink of which I paused in sickening fear of plunging into some black abyss. And yet, oh joy! gradually the films faded from my eyes, the mysterious power lifted its spell from my brain. I felt more like myself.
I saw clearer. My step grew firmer. Now, at last, thought I, all is going well!
When, suddenly, a long, blue-gray streak of light flashed along over the heads of the hills in the far distant eastern sky. It was the signal of morning!
Again, with a groan I sank on my knees, caught myself, rose half-dazed, pressed on again, slowly, slowly, every step jarring on my heated brain like a hammer’s blow; but still onward, onward!
A terrible grip as of some giant hand—palm of iron and fingers of steel—set itself on my very vitals. The thought that even now my escape was known to my enemies, that the phantom Wind Eaters, armed with their nets and clubs, were flitting out of the streets of chief Ztwish-Ztwish’s village, charged to carry me back alive to a worse death than death itself, or slay me for having broken faith and set the face of honesty over my fraud and deceit, seemed to paralyze my limbs and rob me of the little strength I had left.
Still on and ever onward I struggled, like one in the dull stupor of the wine cup. Fast! ah, too fast that streak of gray dawn lengthened and widened and the orb of day shot up through the morning shadows a messenger of light here and there, now weak and fitful, now stronger and farther reaching.
I saw them, ay, I felt them, for in my dread of them they seemed to flash toward me and strike my half closed eyes, as if knocking at the windows of my soul and rousing me to move out of death’s harm.
For a brief moment I halted as if expecting some fond, familiar voice to ring in my ears.
It came.
It was the gentle baroness, my mother! Gently, softly, sweetly, that well-known voice came floating on the morning air bidding me take heart, calling me by name just as in childhood’s days, and saying: “My baby! my boy! my son! my darling! Rouse thee! Press on! Press on quickly!” And then I took heart.
The fearful clamp set on my breast relaxed its hold.
I could feel my strength returning. But oh, so slowly, so slowly! Still, it was on its way back at last! I could feel my feet grow lighter. With some effort I quickened my pace almost to a run.
On, on, I sped, now every instant giving me new strength,every motion sending the warm blood tingling to my fingers’ ends.
The spell had been lifted! I was myself again!
Swifter, and swifter my pace quickened until I flew along as in days of old, when with ease I left all comers far behind me!
Methought I could almost hear the plash of the waves on the snow-white sands of that beautiful harbor where my good ship lay.
On, and ever onward, I sped with a new and mysterious strength. I was astounded at my own deeds. I was almost afraid, so fast I was bounding along, lest again some demon of the air should touch my limbs and stay my course.
But hark! Didn’t you hear that deep rumble?
The sky is clear. It cannot have been the voice of the storm fiend.
Ha! again, deeper and clearer than before, that hoarse, low, muttering rumble, half-roar, half-growl comes borne along on the wings of the awakened breeze.
Lost! Lost! Lost!
It is the cry of the pursuers, it is the voice of the enemy!
Those children of the air are on my track. They follow me with leap and jump. What madness to think to outrun them. Let me halt and die like a man! Look how they bound along over the plain!
Swift and noiseless are their steps, phantoms that they are!
I halt. I turn. I grasp my fire-arm! Too late! A score of entangling nets envelope me! I struggle only to entwine myself the more, arms, hands, legs, feet, are twisted in wretched confusion.
I sway, fall, roll over, wrapped ’round and ’round in that dreadful tangle!
And now down upon my defenceless body comes a rain of sharp, stinging blows. Deep rumbling cries fill the air and keep time in a wild way with the showers of blows rained on my face and head and hands.
As they continue they seem to increase in strength.
The pain, bearable at first, now becomes excruciating.
The light goes out of my eyes, swollen shut as they are beneath this cruel pelting.
A thousand ringing sounds assail my ears.
My brain reels—I am going—going—dying—
When, hark again!
You can not hear it! Your ears would not know it! But mine do! Mine do!
’Tis Bulger’s bark and I am saved! Faster and faster the Wind Eaters ply their clubs.
I do not heed them. I do not feel them now, for nearer and nearer comes that joyous music.
’Tis here!
I’m strong again. I rise half up—my lips move—I speak—I cry out: “Quick, good Bulger, or all is lost!” A single glance at the terrible plight of his little master tells him all. With a howl of rage, his dark eyes shooting flame, he throws himself upon the heels of the Wind Eaters. His sharp teeth pierce like needles!
Crack!
Again and again he sends his fangs through the skin of a Wind Eater.
Crack! Crack!
Their clubs cease swinging. A cry of horror goes up, as for the fourth time good Bulger’s teeth pierces the heel of a Wind Eater and sends his body with a loud report to vanish into thin air.
They turn; they break away in wild dismay; they fly for their lives, casting away their clubs and abandoning their victim. I could see no more.
It grew black, a vertigo seized me. I tried to free my hands to touch my loved Bulger, for death, I thought, had come!
When life came back Bulger was licking my hands and face and whining piteously. He had gnawed the netting free from the limbs of his little master.
With a cry of joy and a brust of tears, I caught that faithful, loving creature to my breast.
At that instant, distant shouts came floating over the hills. They came from my sailing-master and his relief party.
I could not answer. But Bulger raised his head and sent forth a few sharp barks to tell them where we were.
In a short half hour they were at my side.
AS I APPEARED THE DAY AFTER MY RESCUE BY BULGER.
AS I APPEARED THE DAY AFTER MY RESCUE BY BULGER.
AS I APPEARED THE DAY AFTER MY RESCUE BY BULGER.
After my bruised face and hands had been bathed in cool water and I had swallowed a few mouthfuls of wine, I felt strong enough to get on my feet and move slowly forward.
Bulger walked proudly by my side, pausing ever and anon to look me in the face, meaning to ask:
“How goes it with thee, little master?” Once on shipboard, strengthened by good food and cheered by the comforts of my cabin, I was not long in getting my health back again. After a week’s rest, I gave orders to weigh anchor and turn our good ship’s head northward, for I was anxious, very anxious to see the elder baron and the gentle baroness, my mother, and tell them all about the wonderful things I had seen.