VICTORY.
The wayleals rested and slept outstretched upon the air close to the
scene of battle. Not having any weight as regarded external objects,
they mutually attracted each other, and to obtain freedom and rest
without being crushed together into suffocating masses of men, they
were formed into companies of one hundred each, with their feet
pressing against solid cylinders of spears. Mutual gravity was
sufficient to hold them together, and each wayleal spread himself upon
the air, as upon a bed of down, enjoying luxurious repose.
I had slept I know not how long, in company with the leaders of our
army, when I was awakened by Flathootly, who informed me that a trusty
messenger from Grasnagallipas, lord of invention and general of the
king's bockhockids, desired to see me as bearer of an important
despatch from his master.
The messenger, saluting, handed me the following document:
"_To His Excellency_ LEXINGTON WHITE, _Commander-in-Chief of
the Army of Queen Lyone, from Grasnagallipas, General of the
Royal Bockhockids, Greeting:_
"General Grasnagallipas begs to report that he and his
bockhockids have ever been in sympathy with the late
goddess, but were prevented from espousing her cause by the
overwhelming presence of the royal army in Calnogor. To show
his detestation of the horrible act of criminal cowardice on
the part of his majesty, he offers his sword and command of
bockhockids to the cause of the late adorable goddess and
queen of Atvatabar, and on the acceptance of such assistance
by your excellency will at once leave the ranks of the royal
army and enter that of her late majesty, to fight for the
sacred cause and assist in punishing a perfidious king.
GRASNAGALLIPAS."
The loss attending the withdrawal of the priests and priestesses to
form a guard of honor to the illustrious dead was more than
compensated for by the re-enforcements under Grasnagallipas, to whom I
sent a message of gracious acceptance of his services.
The army being fully aroused for conflict, had the satisfaction of
welcoming re-enforcements from two opposite directions, viz., the
fifty thousand bockhockids under Grasnagallipas and the terrorite
battery under command of General Rackiron.
As was expected, the departure of the bravest general in the royal
army was the signal for a renewal of hostilities, and Coltonobory, mad
at the serious defection of his troops, at once assumed the offensive.
He had received a large recruitment of wayleals, and felt as
formidable as ever. His army swept down upon us with warlike music
rolling like thunder, and cries of "Bhoolmakar!" The king himself,
having dealt us his most terrible blow, was a witness to the onset of
his hosts. He sat aloft in a golden palanquin, borne on the shoulders
of his followers, with a body-guard on either side.
The advance guard of the enemy consisted of several regiments, armed
with our own hand mitrailleuses, taken from prisoners. These did a
terrible execution among our wayleals.
Grasnagallipas, anxious to undo the injury he inflicted on us during
the first battle, and emulous of the prowess of our own forty thousand
bockhockids, plunged headlong amid the foe, creating a panic wherever
his gigantic birds descended. He fought like a demon, neither asking
nor giving quarter.
General Rackiron, having got his terrorite battery in position, was
eager to check the advance of the enemy by saluting him with a few
aerial torpedoes. There was some delay incidental to the first actual
operations of a hastily-constructed battery, but the daring ingenuity
of the professor overcame every obstacle. Each gun, supported by fifty
men, possessed a solid foundation from which to direct its operations.
The enemy, though harassed by our bockhockids, had worked into the
centre of our army by sheer weight of numbers. Our wayleals, having
exhausted their ammunition, had to fall back on their electric spears,
and at times were obliged to retire in confusion. At this juncture a
shell of terrorite exploded among the foe with thrilling effect,
destroying at least two hundred bockhockids.
Coltonobory, who evidently attributed the disaster to an explosion of
gunpowder in his own ranks, closed up the broken columns and renewed
the attack.
[Illustration: AT THIS JUNCTURE, A SHELL OF TERRORITE EXPLODED AMONG
THE FOE WITH THRILLING EFFECT, DESTROYING AT LEAST TWO HUNDRED
BOCKHOCKIDS.]
Three explosions in rapid succession, right in the centre of the
enemy, caused the greatest consternation, and produced a frightful
gap, where but a moment before the air was thick with an armed host.
Generals Yermoul, Gerolio, Ladalmir and Grasnagallipas plunged with
their bockhockids into the living cavern produced by the torpedoes,
and with their spears mowed down thousands of the panic-stricken
wayleals.
Another terrorite shell, thrown in the direction of the king,
destroyed a few hundred of his protectors and induced his majesty to
seek safety in immediate flight.
Not wishing to lose so important an enemy, I ordered General
Flathootly and the second legion of fletyemings to start in hot
pursuit of the royal party and bring me back the king, dead or alive.
Flathootly, delighted with his mission, started off at once in pursuit
of Bhoolmakar.
The terrorite battery proved our most effective weapon in castigating
the enemy. I could not thank Professor Rackiron sufficiently for his
great genius and mechanical skill in so rapidly perfecting his
weapons, which were modelled on the plan of the guns belonging to the
_Polar King_. Every discharge proved a blast of destruction to the
foe.
The deadly missiles wrought a fearful slaughter, steadily decimating
the ranks of the royal army, which had no similar weapons with which
to retaliate upon us.
The frightened hosts, constantly changing their focus, left behind
them vast heaps of the dead and wounded and globes of floating blood.
On one occasion the first brigade of fletyemings, led by General
Starbottle, in eagerly pursuing the enemy dashed through a pool of
blood three feet in thickness, and every wayleal emerged dripping with
gore.
Coltonobory, finding further resistance useless, at once surrendered
himself and his army to our mercy.
My brave wayleals, flushed with victory, saluted me with cries of
"Long live Lexington White, King of Atvatabar!"
But what was success now without the one priceless soul to share my
triumph?
Did ever glory so grand and defeat so terrible so mingle themselves in
human experience?
My wayleals, now for the first time hearing of the death of their
queen, would have torn Coltonobory to pieces had I not protected him.
I knew he was personally innocent, and my wayleals were already in
pursuit of the king.
We entered Calnogor in triumph. I heard on all sides a wail of
lamentation for Lyone, mingled with applause for the conqueror.
It was a scene in which conquest and misery, rapture and failure, life
and death, were indissolubly united.