THE LAST CHANCE
It was pretty nearly “now or never” with Sure-dart. He had no serious
hope that Big-axe would do anything in the way of a rescue. How, as
things stood, could he? Once out in the open, and surrounded, the end
was certain. Sure-dart did not believe that the chief was so blindly
brave, and had so little thought for the safety of the rest of his
people, that he could be tempted out. He would doubtless see that the
seeming carelessness of the two bands was assumed. No, whatever was
done the boy felt he must himself do. At least, he must do the first
and essential part of it. Could he break away, and get near safety,
then he had no doubt Big-axe would take a chance, and try to help him.
Though he was in sight from the fort, yet he himself could not get a
good look in that direction, for there was a small bush just in front
of his face. Too desperate now to mind whether his captors saw him or
not, he gave a strong wriggle, and then could see the whole side of the
hill, including the barricade.
Ah! Big-axe was on the top of the wall, and so were Bull-head and
Stone-arm. He recognized others, too. All were looking that way, and he
had no doubt they had already seen him.
It added a sharp pang to his situation to see home and friends so near,
and yet separated from him, as it seemed, by the gulf of death itself.
A kind of desperate feeling, that perhaps touched madness, came over
him. He was ready to do something.
He twisted his head around, and looked at his captors. The nearest were
five or six paces away, and they and nearly all the others were looking
towards the two chiefs. This, it struck the boy, was a part of the
plan. The chiefs were pretending to be discussing something, and the
others listening, and none were apparently expecting an enemy. In fact,
a few had gone down to the spring, and still others were moving in the
direction of the woods.
“But you never can catch Big-axe in that trap,” Sure-dart muttered to
himself. “He isn’t the hot-headed fool you seem to think him.”
Even at that moment, when hot-headedness, or almost anything else,
would have been welcome, the boy was cool enough and fair enough to see
the other side of the case, and could justify the chief.
But there could be no better time to make his start than now. He had
drawn the thongs more closely around his waist, wrists, and ankles, so
that his work on them would not be noticed, but here he shook them all
loose again, and gathered his legs partly under him.
His face was still turned away from the hill, but just then his ears
caught something new, and it surprised him into a pause. Big-axe, his
powerful voice raised to a shout, was speaking.
Cheered a little, though he hardly knew why, Sure-dart lifted his head
and listened. He could hear the words plainly now.
The chief was challenging Long-spear and Strong-back to single combat,
and he said he would fight them one at a time, but with no resting
spell between; and if he won, Sure-dart was to be released. If he lost
and was killed, of course they would get rid of their most dangerous
enemy; if he was disabled, the conqueror could of course kill or take
him. For weapons they could have axes, swords, or spears; he would have
his axe alone. No shields were to be used. The fighting ground was
to be a few spears’ lengths in front of the barricade, the allies to
retire, during the fight, to a distance equal to that from the wall to
the fighting spot.
“It is all he can do for me,” thought Sure-dart, “and he takes a great
risk at that. Only they won’t accept it, for they don’t dare, and so I
must still rely on myself.”
But it did not at once appear whether he was right or not. The two
chiefs affected to be ready to accept, but wished to think it over a
little, especially as the interests of their men, as well as their own,
were involved. The two turned back, and another one of their jabbering
times began.
Nearly every man was now back to the prisoner, and they were now in
truth, what they had pretended to be before, for the moment unmindful
of him.
“If I let this chance go by,” Sure-dart said to himself once more, “I
sha’n’t get such another. I won’t wait. Here’s for it!”
A quick shuffling with the thongs, another drawing up of the legs, a
shooting up to his feet, and down the slope he was rushing. For the
space of time it would take one of our old-fashioned clocks to tick
twice, there was hardly a sign of stir from behind, and not a loud cry.
Clearly the surprise was so complete as to be almost bewildering.
Then--and it was well-nigh a relief to the strained senses of the
flying boy--the din broke out, and the low bushes crackled, and the
hard ground gave back the slapping of naked feet.
Sure-dart put out almost a savage effort, but the long bundling up
and inaction had stiffened his legs, and, in spite of his roused and
tingling nerves, he could not limber up, and strike his usual gait. He
was going heavily, and as it seemed to him, no faster than an ordinary
runner.
A dart hissed close by his head. One pursuer, at least, was probably
out of the race. The dart must have been thrown from a standstill, and
the thrower could hardly hope to make up the lost ground.
The faces on the wall grew plainer. He could see that some were almost
puckered with scowls of suspense, and that some, like Big-axe’s, were
set, and yet, in a grim way, smiling. Big-axe himself stood quietly in
his place, but the most of those nearest him were flinging up arms or
hands, or even jumping up and down. It was a race to appeal even to a
stoical savage!
Not very many paces more! The most of the gang must have stopped, for
the slapping of the feet sounded lighter. It was time to expect Big-axe
to take a hand in the game, and Sure-dart, slackening the merest
trifle, looked up at him.
Yes, the chief was already putting his foot down on a rock in the
outside of the wall, and was preparing to jump. Bull-head and four
or five others were stooping at other places, and were making ready
to follow. But here came a little jar against his right leg, and a
stinging pain. He gave a kind of hop and skip, and started anew, but
now the leg was almost numb. Must he fail, and only this to gain?
Staggering now, and going from that to a limp, he forced himself over a
few more yards.
He saw, yet hardly knew that he saw, Big-axe wildly swing his arms. The
chief was yelling something, too, but close as he was it sounded far
off. Bits of blackness, followed by flashes of light, passed before his
eyes. But somehow, some way, there wormed itself into his darkening
consciousness that the chief wanted him to drop--to lie down. It was at
least an easy thing to do. He did it. He stooped a little, put out his
hands, and let himself go.
After all, even a slow thought is quicker than a swift arm. Little
whizzing things flew over him, as he went down, and knocked harmlessly
against the wall. The boy did not know it. He did not know, either,
that the throwers, turning, as they saw what had happened, ran back,
and did not stop till they were up with the slower runners.
And still more, he did not know when Big-axe, Bull-head, and three or
four others, springing down from the wall, rushed him up to the top of
it, and from there carried him gently down to the path, and put him on
a lizard skin. The long strain, following days of other strain, and
that both mental and physical, the hot sun, the shock and pain of the
wound--these were enough to strike down, for the moment, even this
hardy young fighter.
The little that the old men and women, who were now left in charge
of him, knew how to do was done, and it was not long before he was
sufficiently himself to open his eyes, and move his lips. He did not
talk, however, and soon dropped off in a heavy sleep. It was over an
hour before he came out of this.
Meanwhile, the chief and the other principal fighters were on the wall,
waiting for what looked like another attack. It did not come, and
instead, the besiegers, sullen and silent, went slowly back to their
camping place. Bull-head, sure not to let such an opportunity slip,
sent his roar of derision after them, and called them some decidedly
uncivil names.
Sure-dart, when he opened his eyes again, was much better, but weak and
dull-headed. He asked whether the enemy had gone back to camp again,
and whether there had been any more fighting; and when these questions
had been answered, he was content to lie still and close his eyes. His
wound, which was more disabling than serious, had been dressed, and was
not as yet very painful. There were no signs of poison, and nothing
more than time, and a little further home doctoring, seemed to be
needed to make him as good as new.
In an hour or so more his head felt much better, and he roused, and
wanted to talk. He said he had first something to say to Big-axe. The
chief was sent for, and Sure-dart told him what he had picked up in
the camp--the allies’ plans and what they had finally decided on.
This was by far the most important as well as the most cheering news
yet, and Big-axe, usually so self-contained, now broke out in a mighty
grunt of joy and relief. Yet, as cautious and far-seeing as ever,
he then restrained himself, and whispered to Sure-dart that for the
present they had better keep the news to themselves. They would wait,
the chief said, till the thing itself had happened, for then there
would be no chance of a disappointment. He should fear the effect of so
great a one on his tired and almost worn-out men.
A few more things were said, and after that they spoke of the chief’s
proposal and challenge, and of the very sudden way the matter had ended.
“I wouldn’t risk waiting,” said Sure-dart, with a little grin, “for I
was pretty sure that if I did I should soon be turned to a dinner. They
wouldn’t have agreed to anything. Yes, I am sure the two were glad when
they saw me cut for it, and so get them out of the hole. You say that
Long-spear, who is one of the fastest runners in the gang, didn’t get a
good start after me, and soon turned back. I am guessing he had all the
start he wanted.”
“Whether he did or not,” said the chief, with a drawing together of his
heavy black brows, “I think it was well for him that he did not come
on. I should have risked something, as things stood, to get to close
quarters with him.”
At this point some of the other fighting men came up, and Sure-dart
told the substance of his story over again.
“If I hadn’t been careless,” he wound up, “I shouldn’t have had all the
trouble.”
A little later they moved him to a shadier place, and finally into his
old nest, or rock-bunk. Later in the day his wound pained him, and
he was somewhat feverish, but the chief did not spare the water, and
before morning he was better. Soon after light he heard a commotion on
the path, and in a minute or two one of the women ran up.
“They’ve gone! they’ve gone!” she almost screamed. “Yes, the men-beasts
have gone! They stole away in the night. They were ashamed to let us
see them go!”
And this good news was soon confirmed by some of the men. There was not
a Fisher nor an Islander in sight.