NATURE COMES INTO THE FIGHT
It was a big party that now came racing and yelling down the hill-side.
Nevertheless, it effected nothing, for Big-axe and the rest had too
good a start, and were too fast even for the scattered fast men
who were in the advance. All got safely back to the wall, and were
leisurely helped up. The pursuit had already stopped. The water was by
this time safely put away, and there was general rejoicing, as indeed
there well might be. Things seemed to be going better than any but the
most sanguine could have dared to hope.
There were now fresh preparations for an attack, should any be
ventured, which, however, was unlikely. Big-axe said that he believed
there would be none. He had already gone over his muster roll--to use
the modern military term,--and found that he had left just ten grown
men, twelve large boys, including Sure-dart, and the small contingent
of women. There had been two men killed at the barricade at this last
assault, one being the man who had previously been wounded in the
thigh, and one totally disabled. He thought the allies now had left
under fifty serviceable men. As the boys in the garrison, other than
Sure-dart, could not be considered as nearly equalling the same number
of grown warriors, it was apparent that the allies still had a strong
advantage in efficient fighters.
While these new preparations were going on, Sure-dart had been spoken
to by Big-axe and complimented on his pluck and coolness.
“You did just what I wanted you to,” said the chief, “which was to hold
on as long as possible, and tempt their party to come close. I had to
let you take some risk, but it was for the good of all. I thought we
had a chance to thin them out, and lose few if any ourselves, and that
we must take the chance. We came out of it well, for they could not
afford to lose four to one.”
To this Sure-dart answered that he was glad the matter had come out so
well, for at one time he had thought the rescue would come too late,
and his party be lost, with nothing to offset it; and he added that
Diver ought to have a part of whatever credit there was for the stand
the two had made.
“I have already told him so,” said the chief. “As for you, I like the
way you are doing things, and I think if you keep on you will some day
be chief. That is, if we manage to get out of this trouble.”
He passed on, leaving Sure-dart very well pleased, and inwardly a bit
proud and elated.
It was now dark, and the usual preparations for the night were
made, with one exception: no scouts were sent outside, as on the
previous night. That was because there was something of a stir from
the direction of the woods, and Big-axe guessed that the enemy was
meaning to come nearer. In fact, it was not likely to be otherwise,
considering what had just passed. While straight-out assaults were
relied on, the condition of the defenders as to food and water was of
no particular consequence, but now that a siege was to be tried, it was
of great consequence. Therefore, the little fort must be invested so
closely that other dashes like the recent one would be impossible. It
did not take long to prove this theory true, for a few minutes later
the watch on the barricade were able to make out dusky shapes flitting
about in the obscurity, and shortly afterwards some drew closer, and
formed a tolerably large guard.
A little later still voices were heard above, and a spiteful rock came
crashing down the slope, and bounced off the path. Nobody was hurt,
but the warning was regarded, and all but the guard on the wall crept
under the protection of the rock penthouses. The guard, as previously
explained, was placed so that large rocks could not be sent down upon
them, and they curled up, with their own shields and some spare ones to
cover them, and were in little danger. But this final disposition of
the two bands made it pretty certain that the nature of the attack had
indeed changed, and that a siege was meant.
The breeze had gone down with the sun, and though there was a slight
fog or mist, it seemed merely to make the air closer and more
uncomfortable. There had been no rain for several days, and of course
the rocks and ground had been drying and storing warmth, and in all
the open places there was nothing moist or cool, and no spot that was
really comfortable. To make things vastly worse, swarms of flies and
various other insect pests were a-wing, or most active on their legs,
and these now began to get in their work. As the defenders could not
now safely move about, they were the more plagued and tormented, and
that in spite of some little tricks of protection that their experience
had taught them. They had found that certain kinds of earth, rubbed on
the exposed parts of their bodies, would keep off some insects, and
that another earth, especially if mixed with the juice of certain acrid
plants, would keep off still others. Yet other kinds of tormentors
disliked earth impregnated with salt, such as the Rock-people sometimes
rubbed on their meat. There was plenty of this earth on hand, and
a little search brought to light a few of the other things; but in
the main the supply was short, and much wriggling and twisting and
complaining were heard in consequence.
The besiegers were somewhat better off. They could move about, and
could get at plenty of earth, with which to make suits of mud armor.
Besides, many of them were already plastered over with earth paint, and
this greatly helped. After a while, too, some cut switches and then
they took turns in fanning away the tormentors. The guard on the wall
could hear the swishing of the branches, and could also now and then
catch impatient grunts, and what probably passed in that primitive day
for oaths.
But the allies had another most important thing in their favor: they
had no fear of an attack from the fort, and so, with a guard posted,
could sleep as well as the other conditions would permit. The little
garrison, on the other hand, not sure of their foes’ real intentions,
hardly dared to sleep, and were constantly listening for suspicious
sounds. They were in a way to wear out pretty fast, therefore, which
was doubtless one of the things that Long-spear and the squat chief had
counted on.
Sure-dart, though young, was cool and sensible; he made a determined
effort to ignore both flying and creeping things, and nervous fears,
and to get at least a nap. He finally succeeded, but did not then sleep
soundly, and often woke up. Still, the time was going, and it must
sometime be light. Then foes, big and little, could at least be seen,
and so be the more satisfactorily reckoned with.
The moon now rose late, but at last Sure-dart awoke from another nap,
and found that it had grown light enough to see near things. He was
lying on some rushes, under a shelf of the rock, and with nothing to
cut off his view of a wide sweep of sky, especially to the south. He
had a fair easterly range, too, and so could take in the growing light
there, even down to the red edge of the moon itself. Thinking that he
could sleep no more just then, he sat up and threw a general glance
around.
There was nothing except the growing moon that was new. The shelf,
to the cut-off of the wall, was still bare and open, though with
the sticking out, here and there, of restless hands or feet, or the
projection of some weapon. In the other direction, the broken-in hut
was succeeded by the deserted remainder of the open part of the shelf.
On the barricade he could make out the huddled-up figures of two of the
three sentinels. They were sitting on one of the top stones. The third
was a stone lower, and was just now leaning on his spear.
The moon rose higher, and the light grew stronger, but it was not a
clear light. The haze gave it a red, sombre cast, and took from it the
little illusive romance that makes other moonlights beautiful. The
size of the moon itself was also exaggerated, and as it redly climbed
above the wooded hills, and seemed broadening across that whole quarter
of the sky, it was almost terrifying. Showing at all times greater
than the moon of to-day, it was enlarged also to the eye, as our moon
sometimes is, and seemed like a red-hot world drifting down through
space upon this one.
The night itself, like the most of those primitive nights, could not be
said to be quiet. Besides the mutterings of the restless sleepers--or
those trying to sleep--and the grunting and grumbling of some who
were fighting off insects, were the noises faintly coming up from the
enemy’s camp below, and a little stirring about on the rocks above. And
still besides these were the ordinary natural sounds,--the drumming,
whistling, and croaking of reptiles,--such reptiles as this modern
earth never saw,--the booming and squawking of strange night-birds,
and the humming, buzzing, and knocking of small flying things against
everything animate and inanimate. Most were invisible, and so there was
uncertainty in their coming and going and a little vagueness about
their presence, and this added to the helpless irritation of trying to
fight them off. Many, however, were merely a little too curious and
sociable, and did no harm, a few being great beetles that knocked into
one’s face, and then fell down with a tremendous buzzing, and others
turning out to be huge moths, that fluttered around, and if caught
clung to one’s skin with obstinate, scratching feet.
There was of course nothing new and surprising to Sure-dart in this
mere stir and swarming confusion of the night life of the place, and
this alone would not have kept him awake. He swung his feet out into
the path, and arranged the rushes more comfortably under him. If he
decided to try for more sleep he could succeed better after a restful
change of position.
The thing that he looked at the oftenest was the giant red moon. He
thought he had never seen it quite so monstrous and sinister. It was
clearing the horizon now, and giving more light, but not ordinary
moonlight. Things under it came dimly out, and with hard, black
outlines and deep shadows, where usually would have been silvery
shimmerings and blue bits of duskiness. There was a sombreness and
suggestion of something almost unnatural about it all, and a feeling as
if new and strange things might happen, and the effect on the mind was
one of uneasiness, and a longing for good wholesome daylight once more.
Nevertheless, as with a kind of fascination, Sure-dart continued to
look, and watched the giant red ball push itself up, as it were, from
the rim of hills and woods, and float clear into the dusky open above.
He must be growing a bit nervous, for just then a whirring noise, as of
a bird’s wings, made him start, and he looked around to see where the
sound came from. There was nothing at the moment in sight. He waited,
glancing this way and that, and listening, beginning to guess now what
had made the noise.
Only another few seconds, and then he had a chance to know, and what
mystery there had been was at an end. As he was looking skywards, and
away from the moon, something that could be likened to an army tent
dropped down from a high place, fell flapping past, a noise like a
magnified squeak, and ending in a sort of sputter, coming from it.
Strange and disconcerting as such a vision would be now it was almost
cheering to Sure-dart. He knew what it was, and though there might
have been circumstances when he would have looked serious at the sight
of the creature he was not troubled now. It was that giant, bat-like
monster of the lizard family that we have named pterodactyl, but which
the Rock-people called beast-bird. This one had a body as big as a
fair-sized dog’s, with a bird-like head, ending in a long, toothed bill.
Had the creature caught him asleep, or disabled, or even alone,
provided that he did not at once start up, and show that he was able to
fight, it might have been a different story. That sharp saw of a bill,
with a lean but strong neck behind it, could get in very quick and
serious work, and the claws on the hind feet were adapted to back it
up. The creature was bold, too, and doggedly stubborn when once it had
begun to fight.
But it had some cunning, as well, or instincts that served the same
purpose, and was not likely to be dangerous at this time. Sure-dart
thought afterwards that it had smelt or seen the scamperer, and was
looking for a chance to make one of its sudden, fierce dashes at it.
If so it was disappointed, for the scamperer was cuddled down close to
Hop-foot, and this was in the row of the armed men.
The creature rose from its dip into sight again, and took a short
turn overhead. Then it went higher, sticking its long neck down, as
Sure-dart could see, as if looking the situation finally over. Just
now it was a strange and almost unearthly sight, with its monstrous
cloak-like wings, cut out black against the sky, its poked-down head,
with the great bill and the awkward, dangling legs. It would have given
our forefathers cold shivers, for they would surely have taken it for
the Evil One.
A little uneasy, notwithstanding his belief that the thing would not
risk a dash, Sure-dart crept out of his nest, taking his spear with
him. At sight of him, or perhaps discouraged already, the monster
lifted its unsightly head, and flapped heavily off. Sure-dart watched
it till it made a black dot against the blood-red moon, and finally
seemed to be swallowed up in it.
[Illustration: “Sure-dart crept out of his nest, taking his spear with
him”]
Sure-dart now thought of what he was doing, and that he was in a little
danger, for the light would show him to any watching enemies above.
He therefore turned to crawl back into his nest. As he faced that way,
he saw that Hop-foot was looking out of the next space.
“Gone, hasn’t he?” the boy said softly.
“Oh, then you were awake? Yes, he seemed to fly into the moon.”
“I am coming out, too,” the boy said again, after a little pause. “I am
half roasted, and I want to stretch my legs. I guess there’s no danger.”
He did not wait for Sure-dart’s answer, but crept out.
“It seems as if the air were all used up, and nothing left to breathe,”
Sure-dart sniffed and said. “It is kind of strange, too, up on this
high land.”
“Maybe it means a noise-storm” (thunderstorm), Hop-foot suggested. “And
say,” he went on, “if it does rain hard it will be a good thing for us.
It will cool off things, and we can catch some of the water.”
“Yes,” Sure-dart began to answer, “and so I hope--What was that?”
He stopped abruptly to ask the question, and certainly he had reason.
From far--there was no saying where--came a low, dull roar, that was
like, and yet not like, a tremendous wind. It deepened, died away,
began to rise again--all in an instant it was lost in a mighty,
deep-down thunder and crash that might well have split open the
foundations of the earth!
As it died out the ground under them jarred, and they heard from far
another but lower wind-like roar.
They gasped. They knew something about earthquakes, but this, with its
terrible ripping up of what seemed the earth’s very foundations, was
different, and they were shaken and bewildered.
Now began to be heard frightened cries, and confused questions, and out
into the path rolled and scrambled men, women, and children. There was
no thought of any other danger, and, in fact, little clear sense of
anything, or of what had happened.
A light breeze stirred, and they smelled strange, rank odors. They
turned to the west, from which the puff of wind had come, and found
that the sky there was lighter. As still they gazed, they saw what
was like another moon swiftly reddening the peaks of the now visible
mountains.
There was no more talking. The strange light shone on pale, staring
faces, and shaking limbs and bodies.
A long minute more. In that time the red had grown redder, and the mock
moon had pushed up into sight. Still a little later, and up higher yet
the great red ball had pushed. Now, in spite of the distance, they
could make out fiery sparks flying in jets from it. They flew faster,
but at the same time the mighty uplift began to lose its roundness, and
grow lean and pointed.
Now it had stopped rising, and was standing still. It threw off no more
sparks, and even the glow was fading. It suddenly faded out, but that
was because of a quick and deep blackness that was spreading over that
part of the sky.
A little boy screamed out. Something had dropped on him that was like
a feather, but that seemed to have the point of a knife. His mother,
forgetting her own fright for the moment, stooped to soothe him, and to
find out what had hurt him. Something hard, like a small nut falling
from a tree, struck her between the shoulders. At the same moment a man
near the other end of the path snarled with pain.
His face was in sight one moment, but the next the man six paces from
him could not see it; the darkness had reached them, and with it the
cause of it. The air was full of the little falling substances, and of
the black, soft particles, some as big as small feathers, and a rain of
what seemed fine dust. They shouted in the blackness to one another,
and families tried to feel their way together, and some snarled or
shrieked, as a hot patch of the feathery stuff fell on a spot of bare
flesh.
After scrambles and some falls and bumps against the rocks, all managed
to get back into their stone nests. Faster still the dreadful stuff
came down, and now they found that there was something besides a
smother to it; they began to feel pains in the chest, and some were
dizzy. One old man, crazed and muttering, staggered out, and after
pawing about a moment, fell off the rock.
It was small comfort that, as this was going on, they could hear
frightened roars and yells from overhead, and from the valley below.
The most of them heard as with the outer senses only, and dully. Even
Bull-head forgot his roar. Rage and hate were going, as life drew near
to death.