THE END OF THE FIGHT
Before this there was confusion among the poor women and children and
the others of the escaping party. They had seen the three warriors
coming fast on in their wake, and they knew what it meant, for there
was no such thing as mercy in the work that the men were prepared
to do. At the same time, the women and the old men, and even the
larger children, did not fall into a complete panic, but like the
fighting animals that they might almost be said to be, they growled
encouragement to one another, and made ready, when the final moment
should come, to make a fierce defence. Nevertheless, it was evident
that the three powerful fighters stood fair to work a dreadful
slaughter among them, even if they did not finally kill every one.
Sure-dart came on like a running hound. It was wonderful how his bare
feet flew. There was yet time to do something, he thought, alone though
he was, for he could certainly make a diversion; and if the women and
old men, as well as the larger children, did what they could, it might
be possible to check the assailants. This would perhaps give time for
Big-axe and the others to come up.
The Fishers looked back and saw Sure-dart, but as he was but one, and
a boy at that, they did not pay any serious attention to him. They
doubtless could not believe that he was up to anything desperate,
however strange and wild his actions were. They were now almost near
enough to throw their darts, and each took one from its sheath, and
prepared.
But after all, their experience in this kind of warfare, owing to the
small number of human beings there were in this little world of theirs,
and the long peace between them and the Rock-people, had been too short
to be informing, and they were now to find it out. They were to see
what sort of stuff a savage mother, defending her children, was made of.
A few seconds more, and they were within easy casting distance, and
they halted. The head of the little fleeing company was still strung
out in flight, but the rear had stopped. This little group was made
up of Scar-face, One-ear, Gentle-hand, two other women, four small
children, and Hop-foot.
Sure-dart, never flagging for a moment, was now close at hand. He came
on till he was almost within a spear-cast, and then sharply pulled up.
The men had not wholly ceased to notice him, and now, after a little
clicking back and forth, one of them wheeled about. The others did not
stop, but drew back their arms and poised their darts.
Here was where the powerful and fearless mothers suddenly came to the
fore. All of them broke out in a savage screech, sprang to one side,
to where there was a shivered bowlder, caught up handfuls of the
fragments, and hurled them in a shower at the surprised warriors. In
the midst of it Hop-foot took a cool step forward, poised a dart, and
let it go.
The two Fishers who were facing the party had not guarded themselves
very carefully, thinking there was little danger, and the result was
that one of them caught a smash from a stone that broke several of his
teeth and nearly stunned him; the other was struck on the shin, and it
hurt so that he lowered his dart and snarlingly caught the shin in his
free hand. The third man was very busy, for he had rushed at Sure-dart;
then the boy danced back a little out of range, waited, and as the man
came on again, rushed suddenly almost into his face and flung his dart.
The man, though powerful, was a little slow, and it seemed that he was
not very nimble-witted. At any rate, the dart got in below his shield
and struck deep into his thigh. He grunted with pain and fear, and
brought up where he stood.
In this little interval the women and Hop-foot, greatly encouraged by
their success, recklessly charged, and almost tumbled the two Fishers
off their legs. They struck at them with clenched hands, kicked, and
bit.
But this time they did not come out so well. One of the men struck
his spear through the nearest woman, kicked another off her balance,
and with a swinging blow of his fist landed Scar-face on her back.
At almost the same instant the man whose teeth had been knocked out
rallied, and with a smash of his stone hatchet brained poor Gentle-hand.
There was now a little pause in the fight. The two Fishers at what
might be called the front looked around and saw what had happened.
It was clear that they were not making much headway, notwithstanding
the sudden turn they had given the fight, and that their situation
was growing serious. Looking still farther to the rear, to where
the general fight was still going on, they saw that Big-axe and his
men were crowding back such Fishers as had come in on this side. In
fact, as they were looking, the pack was broken. Five or six Fishers
staggered back, and three of the Rock-warriors broke through. The three
were Big-axe, Bull-head, and Stone-arm.
Then the two made a quick decision. Their chief’s plan had failed, and
they themselves were already as good as between two fires. They clicked
something back and forth, and made such a headlong rush that it carried
them through the broken ranks in front, and with smashes right and left
with their axes they cleared a path through such slow or feeble ones as
were in their way, and slapped off at full speed down the ridge path.
Apparently without the slightest compunction they left the disabled man
to shift for himself.
His fate did not lag. He pluckily braced himself and let go with his
longest spear at Sure-dart, but by a close shave missed. The boy had
parted with his shield, but for that very reason was on the alert, and
with his great quickness he managed to duck below the track of the
spear. It raked through the hair on the top of his head, however. This
was the last of the really brave Fisher. Hop-foot ran up from behind
and lodged a dart fairly between his shoulders, and at almost the same
instant an old man who had run back from the company ahead struck him
on the temple with a stone. He was down and finished in a twinkling.
It was clear by this time that Big-axe and his men had made good their
break through the encircling lines, and were holding the main body
of the Fishers in check. Less than half a minute more, and they were
retreating in compact fighting order along the ridge.
The Fishers did not follow. They were still well in the lead as to
numbers, but they had lost the advantage of position, and had moreover
lost a disheartening number of men. Long-spear, still as shrewd and
far-sighted as ever, gave one of his signal yells, and the battle was
for the time over. Long-spear himself was bleeding from a cut in the
shoulder, and his wind was about gone. That time when he and Big-axe
came together he thrust at the Rock chief, but the thrust was met
on the shield, and a return blow of the chief’s axe all but brought
him down. The Fisher’s shield was cut asunder, and the slash would
probably have gone home even then but that Big-axe slipped. The next
moment other Fishers and Rock-people were crowding between, and then
Big-axe turned again toward the rear. It was just here that he and his
champions broke through, as Sure-dart and the others saw, and then fell
back uninterrupted down the ridge and toward their friends.
It was a joyful and yet a sad time when the chief and the other
fighters at last came up. The chief’s wife and the woman who had been
thrust through with the spear were dead, and the woman who had been
kicked, and two old men, were seriously hurt. Scar-face was a little
sore where the man’s fist had struck her, but beyond that she was
merely a trifle confused and shaken. These were not heavy losses,
measured in numbers, but to Big-axe and the husband of the woman who
had been speared they were severe enough.
For a few moments the two stricken men stood silent, and then, in spite
of their training and the stolidity of their natures, the tears started.
But after a little they made an effort and controlled themselves. As
soon as a rough, long litter could be put together, the two bodies were
hoisted upon it, and the company once more moved on. The injured ones
were carried by some of the warriors.
The others of the rescued party, stimulated by the relief from the
dreadful suspense and by the presence of the fighting men, seemed to
find new strength and energy, and the whole company pushed along at a
relatively fast pace.
The two Fishers who had fled along the ridge (this term “ridge” is used
in a very restricted sense, as it applies merely to the little, natural
causeway above the swamp) were now out of sight, but nobody could say
where they had gone. In the general excitement they had been forgotten.
It was probable that they had kept on till they came to one of the
farther clumps of trees, and where also were some small, diverging
mounds and ridges, and had there swung off, intending to make a detour
by the way of the more open morass, and so back to their friends. This
of course meant a risk, considering the dangerous reptiles and other
wild creatures, but it was nothing like the risk of coming nearer their
human enemies. That meant instant death as the mildest thing that could
be imagined.
Big-axe and his party had now but a short distance farther to go, and
in a few minutes they reached the little tree-island.
It was like a stopping-place, or station, along the road formed by
the ridge. It was merely a roundish clump of trees, with a few of the
whitish bowlders of the region tumbled along its inward border, and
rising near the centre. Such soil as there was showed black and swampy,
and great roots, uncomfortably suggesting snakes, crowded thickly from
its surface. Vines and creepers of many kinds ran everywhere, and in
places were so interlaced among the trees that they made a kind of
natural hedge. Certainly, unattractive as it was, and not suggesting
wholesomeness, it was yet the very place for their purpose. It was a
little, natural fort where they could rest and rally, and from which
they could conveniently push on to their final and better refuge.
Before this, even in their haste, it had come out who had been killed
in the general battle. Eager questions had been answered, and at the
end there was renewed sorrowing. Fourteen of the Rock-people were dead,
and three-fourths of all who had come back were more or less wounded.
These wounds, however, were in few cases disabling, even after they
should have stiffened. Not all of those who had been killed died of the
first wounds, for several were mercifully despatched by their friends.
If left behind they would certainly have been killed in a more painful
way, and it was the practical reasoning of their comrades that this
must be prevented. Often the wounded men themselves had asked the favor
of a friendly blow of the axe. It could be delivered on the temple, or
at the base of the brain, and all would be over.
This left the entire fighting party nineteen strong, including the
slightly wounded. The Fishers, it was thought--and this was a grain of
comfort--had suffered still more; their loss was believed to exceed
twenty. This, however, was thought to leave them still over forty
strong.
The Fishers had now left the battlefield, or at least, none were in
sight. It was thought that they had really gone, for some small,
toothed birds of the buzzard family were settling down there, and these
creatures were very shy of living human beings.
At this point some of the women and other relatives of the fallen men
wanted to go back, desiring to recover their friends’ bodies; but to
this Big-axe would not consent.
“The Fishers are full of tricks,” he said, “and we don’t know what they
may be up to now. I think they are gone, but perhaps they have merely
withdrawn into hiding. They may have gone far enough to satisfy the
birds, but yet not so far but that they could rush out and overtake any
of us.”
There was a little murmuring, and at first it seemed as if a few of
the men, moved by the grief of the women, or troubled on their own
account, would persist, but finally they thought better of it, and gave
in. Like our American Indians, the people of the tribe were in a sense
independent of the chief, though supposed to obey him pretty exactly
when engaged in war, or when banded to hunt dangerous wild creatures;
at other times he rather suggested than commanded, and each family was
a little despotism of its own, the father, or oldest fighting man,
being the ruler. However, in the absence of exact law, much depended
on the force and determination of the chief, and in the present case
few if any of the men were disposed to quibble with Big-axe on any fine
point of authority.
As soon as this matter was settled Big-axe sent out Sure-dart as
a picket guard, and set everybody else who was able to work at
strengthening the defences. Rocks were piled up so as to help out the
bit of natural wall, and bushes were cut down and made into a kind of
wattle breastwork.
When all this was done they were in pretty good general shape. They
were not afraid of another attack, at least, not at once, and they
were fairly well provided with food and drink. Besides some skins of
water that they had brought with them, some of the men knew of a fairly
convenient spring. It was in a hollow at the beginning of the higher
ground just beyond the swamp. As that was on the side away from the
enemy it was decided to take the small risk of sending a few men there.
This was done, and enough water was brought to last, with economy,
several hours. Of course, under that hot sun, more than an ordinary
amount was needed.
At sunset, according to the custom of the tribe, they buried their
dead. There was hardly anything of what we should call a ceremony,
though the women, as has been customary in our times, among certain
European peoples, joined in a kind of wailing dirge. This was done as
the corpses were wrapped in their mantles and laid in the graves.
When darkness finally came on the chief stationed the guards, and the
rest of the camp picked out such places as were dryest and otherwise
most desirable, and lay down. The chief intended to sleep, as the
saying is, with one eye open, but he knew that he must have at least a
little rest, or he should collapse. The strain upon both mind and body
had been tremendous, and he was besides somewhat lame and bruised.
Sure-dart, at his own request, had been appointed one of the videttes.
He was certain that he could not sleep, and he preferred to have
something definite to do, rather than to be stowed away under the
stuffy trees, listening for alarming things, and longing for daylight.
As a kind of mark of honor, seeing how well he had fought, and
otherwise behaved, and also because he was uncommonly trustworthy, the
chief stationed him at the farthest and most exposed point. This was on
the little ridge, or causeway, a hundred paces toward the rear.
It was pretty dark, even in the open, when Sure-dart picked up his
weapons and slipped away. It still lacked some hours of moonrise, and
out in the marsh a white, steamy fog was beginning to rise. This was
confusing the outlines of some things, and hiding others, so that
bits of the eye-range lost their naturalness, and took on a touch of
disturbing weirdness.
But though all this made anything but a cheerful beginning, the boy
kept sturdily on till he thought he had covered the expected distance.
Here the little ridge was a bit higher than just at the rear or ahead,
and was therefore desirable for his purpose. He could get something of
a view around when once the moon should be up.
He put down his shield, for he thought that he could easily pick it
up in time if he should need it, and pulled his light cloak over
his shoulders. It was far from cold, and, in fact, was stickily and
unpleasantly warm; but all kinds of biting and stinging insects were
abroad, and they had begun to prick their way even through his tough
and seasoned skin. Knowing that the best way to guard against any
chance fit of sleepiness was to keep in motion, he picked out a space
for a beat, and began to pace slowly up and down.
By this time the fog had thickened to an extent that cut off all
but near objects, and for the present he had only the various night
noises--the notes of the wild creatures, big and little--for company.
Nevertheless, these alone gave him enough to listen to, and at times
more than enough, for among the sounds were some that had decidedly
unpleasant suggestions. Among the whistling night-birds’ screams,
droning, humming, and occasional splashing and wallowing, he could
catch a sharp hiss, or perhaps a kind of smacking noise, and he
knew that the first meant either a snake, or one of the uncanny
snake-lizards, and that the other stood for one of the greater
lizard-beasts, such as a great stalker, or a thunder-beast. Both of
these were vegetable feeders, and were not classed with the savage
creatures, yet at times they had been found extremely dangerous. If
come upon suddenly, or if their young were with them, and now and then
as if moved by some fit of crazy rage, they had been known to make
a headlong attack, and to follow it up with the savage pertinacity
of the death-beast himself. In that case their great bulk (for the
thunder-beast was the greatest of all land creatures known then or
since) and accompanying strength left no chance for the poor human
creature except a quick dart into some cave or, if there was time,
flight up a large and strong tree. It needed to be both large and
strong, or else the thunder-beast (this was the name given him by the
Rock-people, but we call him the atlantosaurus), if he happened to be
the pursuer, would pull it down. And the man needed to perch high,
also, for the thunder-beast could stretch up, standing on his hind
legs, and put his claws at a mark eighty feet from the ground!
There was still another noise that the boy distinguished from the
others, and that he did not fancy. This one was not on the ground,
but in the air, though through the obscurity he could not make out a
sign of the creature itself. It was a whirring sound, such as might be
made by a night hawk, but vastly louder. He knew that it came from the
wings of a monstrous bat-like creature, yet not a bat, but a species
of lizard, with wings that spanned twenty feet, and a toothed head on
a body as large as an ordinary deer hound’s. This creature, as he knew
by unpleasant experience, sometimes paid a careless night-stroller, and
still oftener a sleeper, an unexpected and most unwelcome visit. When
urged on by hunger it had been known to flap down on a man, and before
it could be fought off, to strike out one of his eyes, and tear a
strip of flesh from his face. Ordinarily, however, it would not attack
a grown person even in the night, but there was something about its
horrible looks, and the thought that it might drop upon one, as it were
from the skies, that made the whir of its unseen wings disagreeable and
disconcerting.
But Sure-dart, in spite of everything,--sounds, the darkness, and
all,--did not cower, and he did not retreat so much as a step from
his post. Within the limits that he had set for his beat, he doggedly
stalked up and down, his trained senses alert, and his sheathed darts
ready at his hand.
The lonesome minutes went by, and at last the ghostly mist began to
thin, or it seemed to do so, and things around began vaguely to come
out. Sure-dart brightened and was glad, for this meant that the moon
was rising.
He took a turn or two more, but as he was wheeling, at the lower end
of his beat, something new caught his ear, and he stopped almost in
his tracks and listened. He heard it again, and the seriousness and
something more came back to his face. There was a reason.