HARD PRESSED
A mile or so back of the rather low ridges on the west the hills proper
began, and these straggled on, with some valley and morass between,
for eleven or twelve miles. After that was a great high, and almost
dry plain, and then the vast blue masses of a seemingly endless line
of mountains. Here, as far as the Rock-people knew, the world ended,
for not one of them had ever ventured so far. The peaks and valleys
might be the home of new and terrible creatures, and they were sure
that there were perils of another kind. The peaks sometimes, as seen
from the westerly hills, shot up with flames, and there were rumblings
of far-off, but certainly mighty explosions. The whole region must be
ready to blow into chaos, and for this reason, if for no other, a man
would be a fool to risk himself in it. So the Rock-people had reasoned,
and even now, with a tangible and known danger to spur them on, they
would have been loath to trust themselves there.
As far as the great plain on this side was concerned, Big-axe and his
people had slightly more knowledge. A few times, when hunting, they
had pushed out a short way upon it, and had seen nothing strange or
particularly dreadful. The powerful and savage terror-bird had once
or twice hove in sight, but even a small party of well-armed hunters
were not afraid of him, and there did not appear to be anything else
that was dangerous. A far more hazardous journey was that across the
low ground at the westerly side of the first range of hills. Here were
several miles of swamp and fen-land, and here, as their natural haunt,
were monsters of all kinds,--spear-back, three-horns, now and then a
family of death-beasts, and the phantom-like thing that seemed to be
a giant bat. It was in reality, like so many other of the monsters, a
lizard. The Rock-people called it the big beast-bird. Besides all these
were mighty turtles, with jaws that could snap off a man’s leg, great
leeches, and now and then a deadly snake. Among the rocks on the lower
ground were likewise swarms of huge rats, and they could bite like
little tigers, as the skulls that have been found show.
But of course not all the creatures of this region were dangerous;
there were many that were harmless, and not a few that were valuable
as food. In the little streams were fat eels; some of the smaller
birds, though still showing their reptile origin, were not bad eating,
especially for a Rock-man; and now and then might be seen, but not
easily brought down, a little creature looking somewhat like a tiny
horse, but with toes instead of hoofs. These horse-like creatures had
not been known to the ancient forefathers of the Rock-people, and as
yet they were comparatively rare. They were among the largest haired
animals then known, and aside from their value as food, were strange
and interesting to the Rock-folks. To them the various forms of
lizard life, the giant water-snakes and turtles, and the toothed and
hair-coated birds, seemed the common order of creation. They called the
curious little horse-creatures “scamperers.”
But with a little wondering about the discovery, and some argument
from the old people about the other changes that they insisted were
slowly taking place--leaning much on tradition and old tales, however,
as to this--the Rock-people dropped the subject. Their brains were too
small, and too little used to carry along other than the most practical
matters to linger on this one.
Big-axe and the others kept a sharp eye out for death-beasts as they
went, but, though they saw the tracks of those that had just gone, they
caught not so much as a glimpse of the creatures themselves. It seemed
from this that even the first poisoned monster had held out long enough
to cover at least a few miles.
The company were soon among the short but sturdy trees of the lower
hills, and here they felt safer, both from man and beast. It would be
easy to find trees that even a death-beast could not pull down, and
which had branches beyond his reach, and it would be a small child,
indeed, trained and active as these savages were, that could not take
care of himself, once among a tree’s branches. As soon as all were
out of immediate danger the men would ply their darts and spears, and
the few death-beasts that were likely to appear at any one time must
eventually be killed or driven off. As to greater safety here from
human foes, it was not on account of present surroundings, but because
these woods meant proximity to the higher hills and the cliffs.
By this time the sun, hot at that period in those regions, was fairly
well up the sky, and though at this higher level and under the shade of
the trees it was not uncomfortable, Big-axe knew that down in the marsh
beyond it would tax the endurance even of a trained man. He therefore,
after conferring with some of the older men, ordered a halt.
“But we will make sure that we have a safe start,” he said. “Wing-foot,
do you go back and see whether there are any signs of danger.”
Wing-foot, so called because of his speed and staying qualities as a
runner, promptly tossed aside his spear and shield, and headed about.
His small, wiry figure was soon out of sight among the trees.
“We may as well rest and have something to eat,” Big-axe said. “It will
strengthen you women and children for the hard pull across the marsh.
We shall have to cross before dark.”
They accordingly sat down, and the women took from their bundles some
small fishes and a supply of snails and wild fruit, and they fell to.
Not being used to cooked food, and the luxuries of our modern days,
they felt very well satisfied with the little spread, and ate with
the relish of healthy animals. After this some of the party sprawled
out, and took naps, and in all an hour passed. At the end of that time
the bushes on a near-by ridge crackled, and the half-naked and hairy
little figure of Wing-foot broke through. He was breathing hard, and
even at this first glimpse it could be seen that his look was anxious.
“Well?” called out Big-axe, starting up.
“They are coming,” puffed Wing-foot. “They are already over the middle
hills. I don’t see how they can help catching us.”
There was a wild staring at him for a moment, and then the wails and
terrified cries began. Even some of the warriors groaned.
But Big-axe, though he was taken completely by surprise, and instantly
saw the terrible peril, did not for a moment falter. He raised his deep
and strong voice, and with a savage threat silenced the noise.
“Do you want to help them to find us? All make ready to go. The men
must carry the small children, and the women can take the spears and
shields. We shall have to risk what is below, for the heat and the
beasts are not so dangerous as the men. Now all be brave, and don’t
talk of giving up. We are not caught yet, and if we should be there
will be spears and axes to crack before they suck our bones.”
The faint-hearted ones still looked frightened and ready to drop, but
the others brightened and began to carry out the orders. In another two
minutes the whole company was on a half-run down the westerly slope of
the hill. There was only one more hill, not a high one, between them
and the marsh level.
Big-axe helped his wife along, and carried one woman’s small child on
the other arm. On, at a breath-taking pace, they went. They would, of
course, easily gain the marsh, but what then? How could Big-axe expect
to profit by that?
Big-axe himself did not at present try to answer this. Possibly it was
because he was too busy, or it might be that he had nothing to answer.
He continued to urge everybody on, growling at the lagging ones, and
cautioning the stragglers, until he got them all at last to the top of
the second hill. The marsh level, green, like a shallow sea, and hot
and glinting under the fierce sun, lay miles broad before them. Had
Big-axe something cheering now to say? Had he caught at some hope? What
could he say, and what could be the hope?
He turned to Wing-foot.
“They must be drawing up to us. Do you think we lead them three hundred
spears?”
“No,” said the runner, gloomily shaking his head; “they must be nearer.
They will break upon us soon.”
“But as yet we don’t hear them, though it is true they strive to come
softly, as is their way of false encouragement.”
“I think I hear them now!” said Wing-foot, suddenly.
The chief’s eyes lighted, and he wheeled about so as to face the rest
of the company.
“Listen, all of you. We have still one chance. Notice that clump of
trees--I mean the one that rises like a little island out of the marsh.
If we can reach it, we shall for the time be safe. I know what it is,
for I have visited it, and when I found we were coming to it I took
fresh courage. Do you all take courage. You women and children push on,
and the rest of us will delay a little. You have now got your breath,
and will be good for such a short dash. It is not over two hundred
spears.”
There was a stir among the loaded and sweating women and tired
children, and in a moment they were in motion again. Some of the old
and feeble folks, too, both men and women, braced themselves anew and
shuffled on after the others. Luckily for these old people, as well as
for the women and children, they were all sturdy barbarians, and had
pretty nearly the strength and wind of wild animals.
Big-axe and the other men fell into their wake, and the chief set the
example of overhauling his weapons. They were now again fully armed,
having taken back their spears and shields.
For a moment there was no fresh sign of the enemy, but as the last of
the men started along the boggy green below, a kind of animal howl
broke from the wooded rear slope of the hill.
“They are coming,” said Big-axe, glancing over his shoulder. He passed
his spear to the next man in front, and unslung the great axe from his
back. A little lagging made him the last man of the company.