Strange to say, the anger of the Raturans was not assuaged by the rebuff
which they received at that time. They took counsel again, and resolved
to wait till the suspicions of the Mountain-men had been allayed, and
then attack them when off their guard.
Meanwhile Zeppa, who did not at all concern himself with these matters,
took it into his head one day that he would teach his little favourite,
Lippy, to sing. Being a religious man he naturally selected hymns as
the foundation of his teaching. At first he found it rather up-hill
work, for Lippy happened to be gifted with a strong sense of the
ludicrous, so that when he took her on his knee--the day on which the
idea occurred to him--opened his mouth, and gave forth the first notes
of a hymn in a fine sonorous bass voice, the child gazed at him for a
few moments in open-eyed wonder, and then burst into an uncontrollable
fit of open-mouthed laughter.
Poor Zeppa! till that day, since his mental break-down, the idea of
singing had never once occurred to him, and this reception of his first
attempt to teach disconcerted him. He stopped abruptly and gazed at the
child with a perplexed expression. This gaze was evidently regarded by
Lippy as an additional touch of humour, for she went off into renewed
explosions of delight and the lesson had to be given up for that time.
Zeppa was gifted, however, with patient perseverance in a remarkable
degree. He renewed his efforts, but changed his plan. From that time
forward he took to humming hymns in a low, sweet voice, as if for his
own amusement. In a short time he had the satisfaction of hearing Lippy
attempt, of her own accord, to sing one of the hymns that had taken her
fancy. She went wrong in one or two notes, however, which gave Zeppa
the opportunity of putting her right. He took her on his knee, and told
her, in her own tongue, to try it again.
"Listen, this is the way," he said, opening his mouth to give an
example; but the first note had scarcely begun to sound when Lippy
thrust her brown fist into his mouth, and told him to stop. She would
sing it herself!
Accordingly, she began in a sweet, tiny little voice, and her teacher
gazed at her with intense pleasure depicted on his handsome face until
she reached the note where she had formerly gone wrong.
"No--not so; sing thus," he said, giving the right notes.
The pupil took it up at once, and thus the singing lessons were fairly
begun.
But the matter did not rest here, for Lippy, proud of her new
acquirement soon began to exhibit her powers to her little companions,
and ere long a few of the smallest of these ventured to creep into
Zeppa's hut while the daily lesson was going on. Gradually they grew
bolder, and joined in the exercise. Zeppa took pleasure in helping
them, and at last permitted as many as could crowd into his hut to do
so. Those who could not get inside sat on the ground outside, and, as
the hut was open in front, the gathering soon increased. Thus,
insensibly, without a well-defined intention or effort on the part of
any one, the praise of God and the sweet name of Jesus ascended to
heaven from that heathen village.
The assembling of these children for their lesson brought powerfully to
Zeppa's mind, one day, the meetings of the Ratinga people for worship,
and the appropriateness of beginning with prayer occurred to him.
Accordingly, that morning, just as he was about to commence the hymns,
he clasped his hands, raised his eyes, and briefly asked God's blessing
on the work.
Profound astonishment kept the little ones quiet, and before they had
time to recover the prayer was over.
Zeppa's mode of terminating the assembly was characteristic. He did not
like to order the children away, much less to put them out of his hut,
and the little creatures, being fond of the teacher, were prone to
remain too long. When, therefore, he thought it time to close, he
simply rose up and took himself off, leaving his congregation to
disperse when and how it pleased! Sometimes on these occasions he would
remain away for, perhaps, two or three days, having totally forgotten
the singing class, to the great disappointment of the children.
One night, while he was thus absent, the men of Ratura delivered the
attack which they had long meditated.
It was an unusually dark and still night; such a night as tends almost
irresistibly to quiet and subdue wayward spirits, and induces man to
think of his Creator. Such a night as is apt to fill the guilty
conscience with unresting fears, as though it felt the near approach of
that avenging sword which sooner or later it must meet.
Nevertheless, unmoved by its influences--except in so far as it suited
their dark designs--the Raturans chose it for the fell purpose of
invading their neighbours' lands, and exterminating their ancient foes;
for, driven to desperation by the taunts and scorn of the Mountain-men,
they felt that nothing short of extermination would suffice. And they
were right. Extermination of the sinners, or the sins, was indeed their
only chance of peace! Not knowing the Gospel method of blotting out the
latter, their one resource lay in obliterating the former.
In the dead of night--that darkest hour when deeds of villainy and
violence are usually done--the Raturan chief once more assembled his men
from all quarters of the rolling plains and the dismal swamps, until the
entire force of the tribe was under his command.
Leaving the aged men and boys to protect the women and children, those
dark-skinned warriors marched away to battle--not with the flaunting
banners and martial music of civilised man, but with the profound
silence and the stealthy tread of the savage. Though the work in hand
was the same, the means to the end were different; we will therefore
describe them.
Had it been a daylight battle to which they went forth, their women and
boys would have followed with reserve ammunition in the shape of baskets
full of stones, and spare javelins; but, being a night attack, the
fighting men went alone--each armed with a heavy club, a light spear,
and a stone knife or hatchet.
Arrived at the pass where they had met with such a singular repulse on a
former occasion, the main body was halted, and scouts were sent out in
advance to see that all was clear. Then the plan of attack was formed.
One detachment was to approach the enemy's village on the right; another
was to go round to the left; while the main body was to advance in
front.
There is a proverb relating to the plans of men as well as mice, which
receives verification in every land and time. Its truth received
corroboration at this time on Sugar-loaf Island. On that same night it
chanced that the chief Ongoloo was unable to sleep. He sent for his
prime-ministerial-jester and one of his chiefs, to whom he proposed a
ramble. The chief and jester professed themselves charmed with the
proposal, although each had been roused from a pleasant slumber.
In the course of the ramble they came unexpectedly on one of the Raturan
scouts, whom they temporarily extinguished with a club. Ongoloo became
at once alive to the situation, and took instant action.
"Wapoota!" he said in an excited whisper, "run to the rear of the foe.
Go swiftly, like the sea bird. When you get there, yell, shriek--like--
like--you know how! As you did last time! Change your ground at each
yell--so they will think you a host. Fear not to be captured. Your
death is nothing. Away!"
A kick facilitated Wapoota's flight, and the two chiefs returned at
speed to rouse the sleeping camp.
Wapoota performed his part nobly--and without being captured, for he did
not agree with Ongoloo as to the unimportance of his own death! At the
unexpected outcry in the rear the Raturans halted, and held a hasty
council of war.
"Let us go back and fight them," said one.
"No use, they are evil spirits--not men," said another.
Some agreed with the former--some with the latter.
"While we waste time here," said the leading chief, "the mountain dogs
will get ready for us. Come! Forward!"
The chief was right. Ongoloo's ruse caused delay, so that when the
Raturans reached the village they found armed men ready to receive them.
These they attacked with great courage, and waged a somewhat scrambling
fight until daylight enabled each party to concentrate its forces.
Meanwhile, at the first alarm, the women and children of the village had
been sent off to the mountains for safety. Among the fugitives were
Lippy and her mother. These happened to meet with the enemy's
detachment which had been sent to assault the village on the left. The
women scattered and fled. The savage warriors pursued, and several were
taken, among them Lippy and her mother, who were promptly despatched to
the rear. Those of the broken band that escaped continued their flight
to the hills.
They had not gone far when they met Zeppa returning from one of his
rambles. His surprise on hearing that the village had been attacked was
great and his anxiety considerable. Although he had refused to go out
to war with his entertainers, he felt no disposition to stand idly by
when they were attacked. Disordered though his mind was, he could make
a clear distinction between aggressive war and self-defence.
"And where is Lippy?" he asked, glancing round on the terrified faces.
"She is caught and carried away--with her mother."
"What!" exclaimed Zeppa, with a flash of his bright eyes that told of
natural rage mingling with the fires of insanity.
The women did not wait for more. They ran away from him in terror.
But Zeppa had heard enough. Turning his face towards the village he
sped over the ground at a pace that soon brought him in sight of the
combatants, who seemed to be swaying to and fro--now here, now there--as
the tide of battle flowed and victory leaned sometimes to one side
sometimes to the other.
Zeppa was unarmed. As he drew near he was observed by both parties to
stop abruptly in his career, and wrench out of the ground a stake that
had been meant for the corner-post of a newly-begun hut. It resembled
the great club of Hercules rather than a weapon of modern man.
Whirling it like a feather round his head, the maniac rushed on. He was
thoroughly roused. A feeling of desperate anxiety coupled with a sense
of horrible injustice had set his spirit in a blaze. His great size,
which became more apparent as he advanced, his flashing eyes, compressed
lips, and the wild flowing of his uncut hair and beard, gave him
altogether an aspect so terrible that his foes trembled, while his
friends rejoiced, and when at last he uttered a roar like a mad bull,
and launched himself into the thickest of the fight the Raturans could
not stand it, but turned and fled in a body under the impression that he
was more than human. He was too fleet for them, however. Overtaking a
flying knot, he brought the the corner-post down on the mass, and three
warriors were levelled with the ground. Then, hurling the mighty club
away as if it were a mere hindrance to him, he ran straight at the
leader of the Raturans, who, being head and shoulders above his fellows,
seemed a suitable foe to single out.
Before reaching him, however, his attention was arrested by a cry from
some one in the midst of the enemy in front. It was the voice of
Wapoota, who was trying to break his way through the flying foe to his
own people.
Fortunately Zeppa recognised the voice, and darted towards his friend,
who was hard pressed at the time by a crowd of opponents.
One roar from the maniac sent these flying like chaff before the wind.
It must be added, however, for the credit of the men of Ratura, that
Ongoloo and his warriors had backed up their new leader gallantly.